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THE PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
PUBLISHED BV 
 
 JAMES MACLEHOSE AND SONS, GLASGOW 
 $ttbUeh£r£E to the Snibcrstt^. 
 
 MACMILLAN AND Cfi., LTD., LONDON. 
 
 NeTX) York, • The Macmillan Co. 
 
 Toronto^ - • The Macmillan Co. of Canada 
 
 London, • • Simpkin, Hamilton and Co. 
 
 Cambridge^ - Bowes and Bowes, 
 
 Edinburgh, - • Douglas and Foulis, 
 
 Sydney, - Angus and Robertson, 
 
THE 
 
 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS 
 
 OF RELIGION 
 
 A SERIES OF LECTURESWVA \ \ 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN WATSON, M.A., LL.D. 
 
 PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN QUEEN'S UNIVERSITY 
 KINGSTON, CANADA 
 
 GLASGOW 
 JAMES MACLEHOSE AND SONS 
 
 PUBLISHERS TO THE UNIVERSITY 
 1907 
 
■"^l, 
 
 In 
 
 7 3 \ -y^^ ^i 
 
 / 
 
 ^ 
 
 GLASGOW : PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 BY ROBERT MACLEHOSE AND CO. LTD. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Six of the lectures contained in this volume — the 
 third, fourth, fifth, seventh, sixteenth and seventeenth — 
 were delivered in April of this year before the Brooklyn 
 Institute of Arts and Sciences, Brooklyn, U.S.A.; the 
 two first were composed at the same time, and were 
 intended to be introductory to the course; while the 
 substance of the sixth, together with the eighth, 
 ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth 
 and fifteenth were read some years ago to the 
 Theological Alumni Association of the University 
 with which 1 have the honour to be connected. 
 
 The lectures which constitute the body of this 
 work are mainly essays in the reconstruction and 
 history of religious belief. The importance of 
 the problem and the pressing need of its solution 
 will hardly be denied by any one who realizes the 
 significance of the unrest and confusion of ideas 
 which have invaded our modern life. The appeal 
 to external authority in any form does not in our 
 day carry conviction even to those who make it. 
 Nothing short of a complete revision of current theo- 
 logical ideas, as I am convinced, can bring permanent 
 satisfaction to our highly reflective age. I have 
 
vi PREFACE 
 
 therefore endeavoured to set forth, as simply and clearly 
 as I could, the conception of life which commends 
 itself to my own mind after the most careful thought 
 
 The conditions under which the lectures were 
 delivered made it necessary that I should avoid as 
 far as possible all merely technical terms, and at 
 the same time should not assume intimate familiarity 
 on the part of the audience with the history and 
 problems of philosophy. Convinced as I was that 
 the theology of the future must take the form of a 
 philosophy of religion, it was therefore impossible, 
 in writing the lectures, to avoid a certain amount 
 of philosophical exposition ; while, on the other hand, 
 I should have defeated the object I had at heart, 
 if I had burdened my pages with an excess of 
 historical detail. I have therefore tried to combine 
 freedom of movement with definiteness of thought. 
 
 The development of the religious consciousness in the 
 past has been partly aided, and partly hindered, by its 
 inevitable dependence upon external authority ; and, 
 though the whole principle of authority was virtually 
 overthrown at the beginning of the modern world 
 with the Reformation and the Renaissance, there is 
 now, as there always has been, a tendency to revive 
 it, whenever a new movement of the secular conscious- 
 ness seems to threaten the enfeeblement or extinction 
 of traditional religious beliefs. In this way we may 
 explain such ineffectual attempts to defend an 
 obsolete point of view as that of Cardinal Newman, 
 and in our own day of Mr. Balfour in his Foundations 
 
PREFACE vii 
 
 of Belief, Therefore, in the two first lectures I 
 have stated my reasons for dissatisfaction with the 
 various attempts which have been made to base 
 religion upon authority. 
 
 Granting that religion can find no real support in 
 external authority, we are obviously under compulsion 
 either to abandon all systematic thought in this 
 region, or to rebuild our theological beliefs on the 
 basis of reason. I have therefore attempted to deal 
 with this question, in a general way, in the third and 
 fourth lectures, which consist of an exposition of the 
 Critical solution of the problem and the outline of 
 an Idealism developed out of it by a firm application 
 of the principle that the world is rational and is capable 
 of being comprehended by us in virtue of the rationality 
 which is our deepest and truest nature. 
 
 Having reached this point, we are met by two 
 opposite philosophical schools of thought, which refuse 
 to accept the solution of the problem thus advanced, 
 or perhaps rather of what they mistakenly regard as 
 that solution. In the fourth lecture will be found my 
 reasons for rejecting both of these views, — the former 
 because it virtually abolishes the rationality of the 
 whole, the latter because it ignores the rationality 
 of the parts. 
 
 So far the discussion has proceeded on the principle 
 that a philosophy of religion is possible. There is, how- 
 ever, a very active school of thinkers who are averse 
 to any philosophy of religion, or at least to any that 
 claims to provide more than a working conception of life. 
 
viii PREFACE 
 
 This is the topic dealt with in the sixth and seventh 
 lectures, which endeavour to show that Professor 
 James is led by his method to over-accentuate the per- 
 sonal aspect of religion and to fall back upon an empty 
 " subliminal consciousness/' while Professor Harnack 
 misinterprets the history of Christianity by a mistaken 
 identification of thought with abstract reflection, an 
 identification which results in the exclusion of religious 
 experience from the universal law of all experience. 
 
 The lectures which immediately follow, from the 
 eighth to the fifteenth inclusive, are critical studies 
 in the historical evolution of religious thought, intended 
 to cover its main movements, and to show, in a 
 concrete way, the process by which the religious 
 consciousness has been gradually purified and enriched. 
 Incidentally these studies may be taken to confirm 
 the view, tacitly or expressly maintained in the whole 
 course of lectures, that philosophy is a systematic 
 formulation of the rational principles underlying all 
 experience, and the philosophy of religion a systematic 
 formulation of the single rational principle which 
 differentiates itself in all experience and makes it a 
 coherent whole, not a thing of shreds and patches. 
 
 This idea of a self-differentiating principle, which is 
 the central thought of the whole course of lectures, 
 is the special topic of the two last, in which an 
 attempt is made to contrast the concrete idea of 
 God, as the culmination of the whole enquiry, with the 
 one-sided determination of His nature characteristic 
 of Agnosticism, Mysticism and Pantheism, and to 
 
PREFACE ix 
 
 show the bearing of the idea thus reached upon the 
 interpretation of nature and of human life. 
 
 My obligations to Dr. Edward Caird, late Master 
 of Balliol, I shall not attempt to estimate or express. 
 In the two last lectures especially I am very greatly 
 indebted to his Evolution of Theology in the Greek 
 Philosophers^ and, in a less degree, to his Evolution of 
 Religion. For the use made of the material which 
 he has supplied I am of course alone responsible. 
 I have also found an article by Professor J. S. 
 Mackenzie, in Mind for July, 1906, on "The New 
 Realism and the Old Idealism," of great assistance 
 in the preparation of Lecture Fifth. Of the books 
 on Philo, mentioned in the Appendix, I owe most 
 to Dr. Drummond's Philo-Judaeus, Maier's Des 
 Juden Philo Buch von der Weltschopfung, and Jowett's 
 St PauVs Epistles. Professor Harnack's Lehrbuch 
 der Dogmengeschichte^ Flugel's Maniy seine Lehre und 
 seine Schriften, Dorner's Augustinus, and Nourrisson's 
 La Philosophie de Saint Augustin have been of great 
 service to me in dealing with Augustine and his 
 relations to Manichaeism and Neoplatonism. In the 
 statement of the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas I 
 have found Stockl's Geschichte der Philosophie des 
 Mittelalters an invaluable guide. To my colleague, 
 Professor John Macnaughton, recent Croall Lecturer 
 I owe the improvement of several passages in the 
 translations from Philo, Irenaeus and Hippolytus. 
 By the courtesy of Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 
 I am enabled to include the lecture on " Leibnitz 
 
X PREFACE 
 
 and Protestant Theology," which originally appeared 
 in the New World, To the other works cited in 
 the Notes I am more or less indebted, while various 
 articles in the Hibbert Journal have served as an 
 index of current theological thought. I hope that the 
 somewhat full analysis of the Contents may be useful. 
 
 Queen's University, 
 
 Canada, ibth October^ 1907. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 LECTURE FIRST 
 RELIGION AND AUTHORITY 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Importance and difficulty of the Philosophy of Religion. 
 Method followed is to examine typical ways of con- 
 ceiving the world with a view to a higher synthesis, . i 
 
 Religion at once a life, a creed and a ritual ; but, as any 
 one of these constituents may be accentuated, there are 
 three main types of religious philosophy. The lectures 
 first consider that sub-division of the second type which 
 bases religion on Authority, 3 
 
 Christian dogma inevitable, because Christianity had to 
 satisfy men nourished on Greek philosophy, and was 
 required as the unifying bond of the Church ; just as, 
 conversely, the Church was needed to guarantee dogma. 
 Hence the early view of Authority, which must now 
 be modified to seem even plausible. Cardinal Newman 
 the first to propound the modern view, ... 6 
 
 Newman's theory of development right in holding that 
 there is an intellectual element in faith, and in denying 
 that the religious consciousness is created by dogma ; 
 wrong in not recognizing that reflection enriches faith ; 
 as -also in viewing doctrine as a "symbol" of faith, 
 and faith as a " symbol " of truth, .... 9 
 
 The problem of the comprehension of the Infinite must be 
 faced. The solution does away with Newman^s plea 
 for the Authority, of t)ie Church, ig 
 
xu CONTENTS 
 
 LECTURE SECOND 
 THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Summary of Lecture First, . 22 
 
 Dr. Wilfrid Ward's new defence of Authority : (i) we 
 recognize the authority of experts in science and 
 history ; (2) the intuitions and reflections of men of 
 religious genius have a peculiar authority ; (3) the 
 Church does not originate, but merely sanctions, true 
 ideas ; (4) as organic the human race requires a 
 special organ of religion, 24 
 
 Weakness of the defence: (i) the authority of experts 
 rests upon the rationality of the universe and the 
 identity of reason in all men ; (2) the man of genius 
 has no authority other than deeper insight ; (3) the 
 authority of the Church is ultimately the authority 
 of reason ; (4) the same principle is present in all 
 . members of the human race, not confined to religious 
 "experts"; hence the true Church is the ideal Church, 
 not a special organisation, 26 
 
 Ahb6 Loisy, applying the results of modern science to 
 scripture and dogma, opposes Harnack's reduction of 
 Christianity to a few simple truths, but, ultimately, he 
 falls back on Authority, on the ground that by reason 
 man cannot attain to a knowledge of God, . . 40 
 
 Untenability of this view, 42 
 
 LECTURE THIRD 
 
 SCIENCE. MORALITY AND RELIGION 
 
 Summary of Lecture Second, . . . . . . 46 
 
 The rejection of Authority throws us back on Reason as 
 
 the only basis of morality and reHgion, ... 48 
 
 Sketch of the development of thought from the Sixteenth 
 
 Century till the age of Kant, 50 
 
CONTENTS xiii 
 
 Kant accepts . the inviolability of natural law, but seeks *'age 
 to defend God, Freedom and Immortality. As the 
 method of the sciences is constructive, so the mind 
 constitutes the system of nature, and therefore is not 
 subject to it. Nor is that system self-complete, as is^ 
 proved by the contradictions which arise when nature 
 is confused with ultimate reality. As our experience 
 is only of phenomena, there is a possibility that in 
 our inner or noumenal nature we may be free ; a 
 possibility which is converted into certainty by our 
 consciousness of moral law, which compels us to 
 postulate freedom, immortality and God, ... 54 
 
 LECTURE FOURTH 
 
 IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 
 
 Summary of Lecture Third, 72 
 
 Kant has refuted the old dualism of subject and object, 
 but has given occasion for a new dualism. His 
 problem not psychological but speculative. He rightly 
 holds the identity of intelligence, but destroys the 
 force of his contention by opposing experience to 
 reality. Origin and untenability of the opposition. 
 The system of nature but a partial determination of a 
 rational self-determinant and spiritual universe. The 
 opposition of faith and knowledge not necessary in 
 the defence of man's higher interests, and disappears 
 when the higher side of the Critical Philosophy is 
 developed, y^ 
 
 LECTURE FIFTH 
 
 PERSONAL IDEALISM AND THE NEW REALISM 
 
 Summary of Lecture Fourth, . .... 100 
 
 Herbert Spencer's Philosophy of Religion unsatisfactory, . loi 
 
 Personal Idealism opposes Monism, and insists upon Per- 
 sonality as distinctive of man and God. In meeting 
 objections, it admits God to be hmited in power, . 102 
 
xiv CONTENTS 
 
 Contrast of Personal and Speculative Idealism. The page 
 former is self-contradictory in identifying knowledge 
 with "ideas" in an individual mind and yet affirming 
 the existence of other minds. The distinction of "idea" 
 and "content" does not avoid the contradiction. God, 
 as confined to his own "ideas," can neither know nor 
 will anything, io8 
 
 The New Realism a protest against Personal Idealism. 
 It maintains that "ideas" and "objects" are funda- 
 mentally different: (i) the "idea'' of a sensible thing 
 is not the thing itself ; (2) the feeling of hunger is 
 not the state of hunger ; (3) the thought that 2 + 2=4 
 is not the truth that 2 + 2=4, 113 
 
 The New Realism right in opposing the reduction of >^-' 
 reality to "ideas," wrong in opposing "ideas" and 
 *■' objects " and thus endorsing the mistake of its 
 opponent. Speculative Idealism maintains : (i) that 
 the conditions of the existence of an external object 
 are the same as the conditions of knowledge ; (2) 
 that the feeling of hunger differs from the state of 
 hunger as the sensitive to the non-sensitive ; (3) that 
 mathematical judgments are not based on "ideas" as 
 "images" but on " universals," which express true 
 though limited aspects of reality. The realist over- 
 looks the spiritual character of the universe. Answer 
 to the difficulty that prior to life and intelligence 
 inorganic nature existed. The absolute not a mere 
 "ideal," 115 
 
 LECTURE SIXTH 
 THE INTERPRETATION OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 
 Summary Statement of Speculative Idealism, . . .136 
 
 First Type of religious theory that which accentuates the 
 personal aspect of religion. Professor James as the 
 representative of the "psychological" subdivision of it. 
 Great value of his "Varieties of Religious Experience" 
 as a collection of psychological data, . . . . i37 
 
CONTENTS XV 
 
 Development of Philosophy since Kant in England : ^^^^ 
 Herbert Spencer, T. H. Green, F. H. Bradley, . . 138 
 
 "Pragmatism" as a method of defending religion. It rests 
 upon two untenable assumptions: (i) that nothing is 
 verifiable except "scientific" fact; (2) that there is an 
 absolute opposition of faith and knowledge, . . 141 
 
 James, in his philosophy of religion, falls back on the 
 "subliminal consciousness," and reduces the object of 
 religion to " something larger than ourselves," or 
 perhaps a " collection " of finite selves. This concep- 
 tion of religion results in an abstraction, and ignores 
 the higher elements of religious experience. Thus 
 St, Paul is admitted to be a rehgious genius because 
 of his " visions " instead of his " prophecy." The 
 "sub-conscious" life really lower than the conscious. 
 The sense in which "experience" is the basis of 
 religion, 149 
 
 Note on the Pragmatic conception of Truth, . . .158 
 
 LECTURE SEVENTH 
 
 CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY 
 
 First Type of religion, second subdivision : Professor 
 Harnack the representative of the "historical" view. 
 His kinship with Professor James. His doctrine con- 
 nected with that of Ritschl, himself a follower of 
 Schleiermacher, 165 
 
 The history of dogma is for Harnack an obscuration and 
 "secularization" of the essence of religion, as found 
 in Jesus Christ and his Gospel. Religion is a life, 
 not a doctrine. Aim of the historian is to discover 
 the kernel of religion by an examination of the facts 
 of history. This kernel consists in the " Kingdom of 
 God" as present here and now: of God the Father 
 and the infinite value of the human soul ; of the 
 higher righteousness and the New Commandment of 
 love, 167 
 
xvi CONTENTS 
 
 While religion may exist without abstract conceptions, ^^^^ 
 Harnack is wrong in assuming that it excludes all 
 conceptions. Thought is only an element in the 
 religious consciousness, but so also are feeling and 
 will. Harnack virtually admits the function of thought 
 when he makes religion imply "the reality of God the 
 Father/* A purely historical investigation will not 
 reveal the "essence'' of Christianityj but only a philo- 
 sophical enquiry. Religion not an unchanging "kernel," 
 but a living principle ; hence religious experience grows 
 ever richer. Illustration from early, as compared with 
 modem, Christianity, i68 
 
 LECTURE EIGHTH 
 
 PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 
 Summary of Lecture Seventh, 190 
 
 Philo an eclectic in philosophy. Difficulty of determining 
 
 his influence on New Testament writers, . . . 193 
 
 In his De Mundi Opificio Philo assumes that the Penta- 
 teuch is a final revelation of truth, and contains a 
 complete philosophy. By his use of the allegorical 
 method he reconciles Moses and Plato. Origin and 
 temporary value of the method, 196 
 
 Philo's theory of creation a transformation of the Jewish 
 conception under the influence of Greek thought. He 
 denies the eternity of the world, while maintaining 
 the eternity of formless matter. He has a clear idea 
 of the limits of the "design/' argument, but virtually 
 assumes two opposite principles, God and "matter." 
 Employs the " cosmological " argument. Interprets the 
 Mosaic account of creation as implying a distinction 
 between the ideal or archetypal world and the visible 
 universe. The divine powers, ideas and reason are 
 inseparable, but the visible universe only partially 
 manifests God's goodness, not his whole nature. Philo 
 extracts from scripture a theory of the order of rank 
 in the parts of the ideal world, 200 
 
CONTENTS xvii 
 
 Three main ideas in Philo : (i) the absoluteness of God ; pa^e 
 (2) the divine Logos ; (3) the visible creation, including 
 man. God in his inner nature held to be for us 
 incomprehensible, inexpressible and without qualities, 
 because Finite and Infinite are incommensurable. 
 Self-contradictory character of this doctrine, . . 215 
 
 LECTURE NINTH 
 
 PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT (CONCLUDED) 
 
 Summary of Lecture Eighth, . . . . .217 
 
 The Logos in Philo : its two-fold meaning. The macro- 
 cosm and the microcosm. How Philo would reconcile 
 the inscrutability of God with man's knowledge of 
 Him. The Logos is (i) the Word, (2) the instrument 
 of God in the creation of the world, (3) eternally 
 begotten, not made, (4) the first-born Son, (5) the man 
 of God, (6) the heavenly man, (7) the second God, (8) 
 the Mediator, (9) the Intercessor, (10) the High Priest, 
 (11) the bread from heaven, (12) the Hving stream, 
 (13) the flaming sword, or "cutter," (14) the cloud at 
 the Red Sea, (15) the Rock; all of which appear in 
 the New Testament. The Logos in Philo is not a 
 Person. It is identified with the Law, subjection to 
 which is freedom, and which is the convincer of sin, 221 
 
 Philo holds the pre-existence and independence of the soul, 
 and regards the body as the source of evil, though 
 not in itself evil. As the soul has two parts, so there 
 are men who live in the flesh and men who live in 
 the spirit. Man being by nature corrupt, a virtuous 
 life is of no avail without the grace of God. Besides 
 the four cardinal virtues, there are the three graces 
 of faith, hope and love. The Jewish ceremonial law 
 is of perpetual obligation, 230 
 
 Philo, St, Paul and the author of the Epistle to the 
 Hebrews partly agree in their method. There are 
 also similarities of expression. But there seems to 
 be no borrowing, and the whole spirit and outlook 
 on life are different. Comparison of Philo with St. 
 
 Paul and St. John, 233 
 
 h 
 
xviii CONTENTS 
 
 LECTURE TENTH 
 GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Summary of Lecture Ninth, . . ... 248 
 
 Irenaeus' characterisation of the Gnostics. They are less 
 unchristian and irrational than he supposes : nor did 
 they pervert the accepted doctrine, but made an honest 
 attempt to defend Christianity. Encratites, Docetists 
 and Carpocratians may be neglected, . . . .251 
 
 L Judaic Gnosticism claimed hidden wisdom, exclusive 
 mysteries and special illumination ; attributed the 
 work of creation to angels ; and advocated asceticism. 
 How Cerinthus differs from the Ebionites, . . 258 
 
 IL Hellenic Gnosticism, under the influence of Greek 
 ideas and the allegorical method, transformed Chris- 
 tianity into a mystical philosophy. Starting from the 
 preconception that God is absolutely complete in Him- 
 self apart from the world, its results are unsatisfactory, . 264 
 
 Valentinus holds that before all created being there existed 
 the Father or Depth ; alone, uncreated, without place 
 or time, unrelated to any other being, at once indeter- 
 minate and infinitely determinate, . . . 269 
 
 Basilides maintained that " the God that was not " willed 
 to make a world ; at least so we must express 
 ourselves, though no human language can really 
 express the truth. How Basilides is led to deny 
 thought, perception and will of God. Logical result 
 of that denial, ... . ... 270 
 
 LECTURE ELEVENTH 
 GNOSTIC THEOLOGY (Concluded) 
 
 Hellenic Gnosticism solves the problem of evil by inter- 
 posing a series of "aeons" or "powers" between God 
 and the world. Valentinus makes them dual, Basilides 
 single, and both distinguish the Pleroma from the 
 visible universe, the latter being the product of the 
 
CONTENTS xix 
 
 Demiurge. Basilides combines the two ideas of creation p*g^ 
 and development in his doctrine of the " cosmical seed." 
 He holds a threefold Sonship. His view of the relation 
 between Judaism and Christianity. Evil he traces back 
 to the spiritual Powers, and salvation he conceives as a 
 special illumination or Gnosis. Jesus not the heavenly- 
 Christ. The Church rightly rejected the separation of 
 the human and divine. The ethics of Hellenic Gnosti- 
 cism either ascetic or antinomian, .... 278 
 
 in. Syriac Gnosticism was unaffected by Greek philosophy 
 
 and was of a practical character, 294 
 
 The Acts of Thomas unspeculative both in form and in 
 content : it indicates a belief in angels, devils and 
 demoniac possession, and in the magical virtue of the 
 dust of St. Thomas ; inculcates asceticism on the 
 ground of the evil nature of matter ; is infected with 
 mysticism ; and denies the knowability of the spiritual 
 world, 295 
 
 The treatise of Philip, a disciple of Bardaisan, though it 
 is infected with dualism, shows some speculative 
 power in its reconciliation of nature, fate and free- 
 will, 297 
 
 LECTURE TWELFTH 
 
 AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH ^- 
 
 Augustine's influence partly due to the process of religious 
 
 experience through which he passed, .... 299 
 
 Cicero's Hortensius awakened him to a higher view of 
 life, though it disappointed him by the absence* of 
 Christian ideas, 300 
 
 Turning to Scripture, he was repelled by its anthropo- 
 morphism, not having as yet found a solvent in the 
 allegorical method, 300 
 
 His next phase was faith in Manichaeism. Relation of 
 
 Manichaeism, Neoplatonism and Catholic Christianity. 
 
 Source of the popularity of Manichaeism. It confuses 
 
 &2 
 
XX CONTENTS 
 
 the natural and the spiritual, and sets up two page 
 antagonistic kingdoms of good and evil, placing 
 Satan at the head of the latter. Though he is made 
 in the image of Satan man has elements of good in 
 him. The prophets, including Jesus, St. Paul and 
 Mani himself, descended into the world to save man. 
 Manichaeism ascetic in its ethics. Orders of the 
 Manichaean community. Augustine attracted by its 
 denial of anthropomorphism, its apparent solution of 
 the problem of evil and free will, its high estimate 
 of reason, and its asceticism, 301 
 
 Augustine's misapplication of Aristotle's Categories the 
 
 beginning of Scholasticism, 308 
 
 In an aesthetic treatise Augustine characterizes the beautiful 
 as involving the contrast of opposites, and applies the 
 distinction to the universe at large, .... 308 
 
 By his study of astronomy Augustine's belief in Mani- 
 chaeism was weakened, and he fell back on a dogmatic 
 scepticism, ......... 310 
 
 Influenced by Ambrose, he rejected Manichaeism, and 
 
 adopted Neoplatonism, 311 
 
 Neoplatonism the euthanasia of Greek philosophy. Its 
 historical phases. Plotinus seeks to answer two 
 questions: (i) How does the Absolute reveal itself? 
 
 (2) How does man apprehend the Absolute? To the 
 first he answers, " through emanations" ; to the 
 second, "in a divine ecstasy," 315 
 
 His five-fold division of Being. The Absolute indefinable. 
 As a pure energy it produces that which is distinct 
 from itself, but an "image" of itself. Grades of being 
 determined by the degree of remoteness from it. The 
 emanations are : (i) The Notjs, (2) the world soul, 
 
 (3) the phenomenal world, (4) matter. Spiritual life 
 the ascent to the Absolute, its ultimate stage consisting 
 in absorption in it. Adaptation of Neoplatonism to 
 popular religion ; especially by Amelius, Porphyry, and 
 lamblichus, I 317 
 
CONTENTS xxi 
 
 Augustine attracted by the Neoplatonic idea of God as page 
 spirit, by its doctrine of the Logos, by its high concep- 
 tion of the soul, and by its apparent reconciHation of 
 evil with the perfection of God, 3^3 
 
 Learning from experience that Neoplatonism did not 
 destroy the power of the passions, Augustine turned 
 to Scripture, and found in the doctrine of the Incar- 
 nation the revelation of the inner nature of God and 
 the desiderated means of transforming the whole 
 nature, 326 
 
 Summary of Augustine's phases of faith, .... 327 
 
 LECTURE THIRTEENTH 
 
 AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 
 
 Augustine gave Christian Theology a Neoplatonic colour- 
 ing. His two main ideas are God and sin. . . 330 
 
 God essentially self-manifesting. Defence of the Trinity : 
 each "person" expresses a special "function," just as the 
 mind of man is one and yet has the three "functions" 
 of memory, intelligence and will. God rather appre- 
 hended by intuition, than comprehended by thought. 
 Augustine insists upon the unity of God, as an answer 
 to Manichaeism, almost at the expense of the distinction 
 of the three " persons," 332 
 
 Creation according to a divine plan. Difficulty of Augus- 
 tine's view. His defence of the idea of "creation out 
 of nothing." No succession in the divine will, for 
 God is unchangeable, and only the changeable is 
 subject to time. Nor is God extended, for space is 
 relative to body, 336 
 
 The creation and preservation of the world identical in 
 essence. Two different views of providence in 
 Augustine, 340 
 
 Relation of man to God : Adam originally good, but 
 capable of sin, since he had the power to refuse 
 the aid of God. Self-assertion connected with the 
 
xxii CONTENTS 
 
 negative element in man. Adam's sin at once privatio page 
 boni and superbia. Augustine's doctrine contrasted 
 with that of Pelagius. The consequences of Adam's 
 sin are : (i) that his posterity have lost the power 
 to will the divine aid, and (2) participate in his guilt. 
 Augustine's attempts to reconcile his view of human 
 freedom with the divine sovereignty by the idea of 
 harmony, 341 
 
 Augustine's doctrine of divine grace. The essence of faith 
 is the consciousness of sin and grace. Christ frees 
 man from sin, guilt and punishment, and restores him 
 to his original state of purity, by giving His own 
 blood as a ransom to the devil for man's guilt, . . 345 
 
 Augustine's doctrine of Predestination the logical result 
 of his view of the Fall. He tries to reconcile it with 
 human activity by saying that there are means of 
 grace which are necessary to the realization of the 
 divine will, though not from the divine point of 
 view, 347 
 
 Great influence of Augustine on his age, especially through 
 his conception of sin and grace. He first formulated 
 the doctrine of the authority of the Church, but he 
 also insisted upon the necessity of direct communion 
 with God, 348 
 
 (i) In his doctrine of the Trinity Augustine expresses the 
 fundamental principle of Christianity, but he fails to 
 grasp the unity-in-distinction of God, .... 353 
 
 (2) In his doctrine of the divine purpose, Augustine does 
 
 not succeed in reconciling the completeness of God's 
 knowledge, apart from the idea of the world, with 
 the necessity of the idea of the world to its complete- 
 ness, 355 
 
 (3) Nor does his theory of creation explain how God can 
 be complete prior to the existence of the world, while 
 
 yet the world has its own reality, .... 356 
 
 His view of time and space leads to a similar difficulty, . 357 
 
CONTENTS xxiii 
 
 (4) Augustine's doctrine of Sin unsatisfactory, because ^''^^ 
 it gives man the power to will evil but not good, and 
 
 thus destroys moral responsibility, .... 35^ 
 
 (5) Truth and error in the Augustinian doctrine of Pre- 
 
 destination, ... 360 
 
 LECTURE FOURTEENTH 
 
 MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 
 
 Medieval Christianity unfavourable to independent specula- 
 tion. In its first stage largely devoted to the logical 
 problem of universals ; in its second stage to the 
 formulation of the medieval ideal of the universal 
 sovereignty of the Church, 362 
 
 Thomas Aquinas seeks to reconcile faith in authority 
 with reason. He opposes Reason and Revelation, 
 Knowledge and Faith, Philosophy and Theology ; 
 attempting to maintain their independence, while 
 affirming their harmony. In explaining the grades of 
 being he employs the Aristotelian distinction of " form " 
 and " matter." He affirms the primacy of the intellect, 
 and holds that the good is commanded by God because 
 it is good, 367 
 
 The theology of Thomas follows the articles of faith. 
 Intuition, Faith and Knowledge are different modes 
 of apprehending God, whose existence is a truth at 
 once of reason and of revelation. Thomas rejects the 
 ontological argument, but employs the cosmological 
 and physico-theological. The doctrine of the Trinity 
 is a truth of revelation, not of reason ; but in the world, 
 and especially in man, there are traces of the divine 
 nature, which yield analogies to it ; the Son being the 
 "procession" of God's thought of Himself, the Holy 
 Spirit the "procession" of His love of Himself,. . 375 
 
 The fact of creation Thomas holds to be demonstrable, 
 but the creation of the world out of nothing is an 
 article of faith, though it admits of " probable " proof. 
 He defends the providence of God, but denies that 
 
xxiv CONTENTS 
 
 infinite goodness demands the creation of a perfect ^^ge 
 world. He tries to reconcile evil and free-will with 
 providence. His doctrine of the Fall and of redemp- 
 tion, 380 
 
 Thomas' doctrine, that the Sacraments are the instruments 
 of grace, is the strongest support of the Church, which 
 he identifies with the mystical person of Christ, . . 389 
 
 The Papacy essential to the preservation of the unity of 
 the faith, on which the unity of the Church depends. 
 The Church may punish heretics and apostates with 
 death, 390 
 
 Contrast of medieval and modern thought, . . . 395 
 
 LECTURE FIFTEENTH 
 
 LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 
 
 Luther and Descartes as representatives of the modern 
 spirit. Spinoza substitutes Philosophy for Theology. 
 Leibnitz seeks to reconcile them, ..... 398 
 
 The post-Reformation Theology : the Augsburg Confession, 
 
 Socinus, Melanchthon and Calvin, .... 400 
 
 The Cartesian and Spinozistic conceptions of God, . . 402 
 
 The TModicSe of Leibnitz : Relations of Paganism, Judaism 
 and Christianity. Truths of faith and truths of reason. 
 The latter divide into necessary and contingent truths. 
 Answer to Bayle's difficulties, 404 
 
 Natural Theology : Human freedom and divine sovereignty 
 reconciled in the doctrine that God has created the best 
 of all possible worlds. Distinction between permitting 
 and willing evil. The principles of Contradiction and 
 Determinant Reason. The pre-established harmony 
 as reconciling freedom and providence. Physical evil 
 the condition of greater good, 413 
 
 Untenability of the Leibnitzian oppositions of natural and 
 revealed religion, necessary and contingent truth, 
 possibility and actuality, 424 
 
CONTENTS XXV 
 
 LECTURE SIXTEENTH 
 GOD AND THE WORLD ' 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Short summary of the idealistic view of the world. Result 
 
 of the historical enquiry, 430 
 
 How Speculative Idealism is distinguished from Agnosti- 
 cism and Personal Idealism,. . . . . .431 
 
 Mysticism separates God from the world and from man's 
 ordinary consciousness, with the result that all positive 
 knowledge of God is denied. Contrast of Mysticism 
 and Agnosticism. Agreement and contrast of Mysticism 
 and Idealism, . . 434 
 
 Pantheism essentially different from the ideahstic concep- 
 tion of God, . 440 
 
 LECTURE SEVENTEENTH 
 
 GOD AND MAN 
 
 Mysticism, in separating the Finite from the Infinite, leads 
 to a false conception of good and evil. PlotinUs 
 regards evil as a perversion of the craving for unity 
 with the Absolute, due to the animal appetites. 
 Regeneration is possible by liberation from self, and 
 the ascent, through the practice of virtue, first to pure 
 contemplation and finally to "ecstasy," . , . 448 
 
 Logical consequences of Mysticism : degradation of the 
 Infinite and an insuperable conflict of morality and 
 religion. Plotinus wrongly identifies self-will with the 
 pursuit of definite ends, and is therefore led to conceive 
 of the highest life as immersion in an indefinable 
 Absolute. Augustine perceived the fundamental defect 
 of Neo-platonism, 44^ 
 
 Pantheism denies the existence of evil, explaining it to be 
 due to the illusory influence of imagination, which 
 represents the part as if it were the whole. This 
 doctrine is self-contradictory and untenable, . . 454 
 
xxvi CONTENTS ^ 
 
 Idealism maintains that evil is real, but is not absolute. ^^°^ 
 The perfection of the whole is not incompatible with 
 the freedom and imperfection of the parts. The 
 process of evil is necessary in a spiritual universe. 
 The regeneration of man implies the immanence of the 
 divine spirit in him, together with the free response 
 of his own spirit to its intimations ; which means, that 
 evil is overcome in so far as the individual makes 
 the guilt of all his own, and so appropriates the good 
 of all. Christianity is the reconciliation of morality 
 and religion, 457 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 I. Books on Philo, 467 
 
 II. Extracts from Philo, 468 
 
 III. Extract from the Septuagint, Gen. I. . . . 479 
 
 Index, 480 
 
THE PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
LECTURE FIRST 
 
 RELIGION AND AUTHORITY 
 
 The attempt to deal in a short course of lectures 
 with a problem so difficult and comprehensive as the 
 philosophy of religion will appear, I am afraid, bold 
 to the verge of rashness. Not only is there much 
 dispute as to what constitutes religion, and an equally 
 great variety of opinion in regard to the nature and 
 the claims of philosophy, but these divergencies concern 
 what the disputants feel to be so vital and funda- 
 mental, that they find it almost impossible to maintain 
 that attitude of impartiality which is necessary to the 
 solution of the problem. We shall probably all agree 
 that a man's religion, as the expression of his total 
 attitude to life, is that which gives meaning and 
 direction to all that he thinks and feels and does ; 
 and that his philosophy, whether it assumes an 
 articulate and systematic form or simply constitutes 
 the spiritual atmosphere in which he lives, expresses 
 his deepest and most cherished convictions. There is, 
 therefore, always a danger that one may inadvertently 
 stir up the ashes of former controversy and liberate 
 the fierce fires which glow beneath. I can hardly 
 expect to be so fortunate as not to say something 
 which runs counter to some heartfelt conviction of 
 
2 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 those who hear me, and my only defence must be 
 that which Aristotle urged in explanation of his attack 
 upon Plato, that truth must be held dearer than 
 friendship. "If only we are resolved to know the truth, 
 even if that should compel us to abandon or modify 
 opinions that we have long held to be beyond dispute, 
 it does not seem unreasonable to hope that we may 
 at least come to a general agreement in regard to 
 the greatest of all interests, the interest of our religious 
 life. Though the problems dealt with in the philo- 
 sophy of religion are in one sense harder of solution 
 than ever before, in another sense their solution was 
 never more simple. Their solution is harder, because 
 of the very intensity with which men now throw 
 themselves into some special pursuit, and the con- 
 sequent difficulty they experience in estimating the 
 claims of other pursuits ; it is easier, because, by the 
 inevitable progress of science and historical criticism, 
 the dogmatic attitude of an earlier age has been 
 superseded, or at least modified, and thus the com- 
 batants are in a better frame of mind for the 
 construction of a more comprehensive doctrine. I 
 propose, then, to ask what conclusions may be 
 reached by a careful and impartial interpretation of 
 the facts of religious experience. In attempting to 
 carry out this programme, it will be advisable to 
 pass in review various typical ways of conceiving the 
 world, with the object of determining how far they 
 can be regarded as satisfactory. In examining these 
 views I hope to avoid the merely polemical spirit, a 
 spirit which is fatal to the discovery of truth, and to 
 have a single eye for whatever of permanent value 
 they contain. No doubt I might have ignored all 
 the views which I am unable to accept in their 
 integrity, and simply set forth what I conceive to be 
 
RELIGION AND AUTHORITY 3 
 
 a true philosophy of religion. But, though much may- 
 be said in favour of this method, it seems to me to 
 have two main defects : in the first place, it does 
 not sufficiently come home to those who have been 
 accustomed to hold a different set of beliefs ; and, 
 in the second place, it ignores the important truth, 
 that the value of philosophy in all cases, and especi- 
 ally the value of the philosophy of religion, lies to 
 a large extent, on the one hand, in giving to the 
 various elements of truth their due weight, and, on 
 the other hand, in bringing them together in a more 
 comprehensive whole. 
 
 What is religion? However this question may be 
 answered, it will hardly be denied that religion 
 contains three elements, which may be distinguished 
 from one another, but which yet are inseparable. In 
 the first place, religion is not a mere theory, but a 
 Ijfe : it is a living personal expression of what is 
 believed to be the highest form of activity of which 
 a man is capable. It must not be assumed that 
 this distinctive note of the religious consciousness is 
 necessarily in contradiction with the co-existence in 
 the same individual of a theory or system of religion ; 
 all that need be held is, that, whether such a theory 
 is constructed or not, at least there must be a direct 
 and effective consciousness which in some way trans- 
 forms a man's whole nature. In the second place, 
 religion implies a belief in something higher than any 
 given object of sense, and higher than any finite 
 subject. Whether this belief is ultimately justifiable, 
 or has no higher guarantee than its power of lifting 
 the life of the individual to a higher plane, I do not 
 at present enquire ; but it will hardly be denied that, 
 with the elimination of the belief in something that 
 may be called divine, the whole influence of religion 
 
4 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 would be gone. No man can look on the world with 
 " other larger eyes/' or preserve his enthusiasm for 
 higher things, after his faith in the divine has been 
 destroyed. Lastly, religion expresses itself in certain 
 peculiar acts, sometimes called religious, and these 
 acts, as it may perhaps be fairly claimed, are at 
 least of service as the external signs or symbols of 
 religious emotion, even if they are not, as some 
 contend, essential to the very existence and vitality 
 of the religious life. Religion, then, to sum up, is 
 at once a life, a creed, and a ritual. 
 
 Now, while it will be generally, if not universally, 
 conceded, that all three elements are essential to 
 religion in its completeness, there may be very great 
 variation in the degree of importance attached to 
 each. To one who regards religion mainly as a life, 
 creed and ritual will naturally seem of very subordinate 
 value ; and he may even go so far as to say that 
 any definitely formulated creed is not only unessential, 
 but is positively prejudicial to the fulness and vitality 
 of the religious life ; while to ritual he will either 
 be indifferent, or will seek to reduce it to its barest 
 and simplest form. The dislike of system is shown 
 in many ways, ranging from the contention that the 
 truths of religion may be all summed up in the 
 Fatherhood of God and the Sonship of man, to the 
 denial of all objective truth and the substitution of 
 any belief that gives satisfaction to the individual 
 who holds it ; but, whatever form it assumes, it is 
 characteristic of this mode of thought, that it views 
 religion almost entirely as the direct and spontaneous 
 expression of the spirit. 
 
 Very different is the conception of religion held by 
 those who attach most importance to the content of 
 faith. For them religion is no doubt a life, but it 
 
RELIGION AND AUTHORITY 5 
 
 is a life nourished and sustained by beliefs which are 
 fundamentally true. No belief, as they contend, can 
 have a permanent influence upon a rational being 
 which does not correspond to the actual nature of 
 things. The bare suggestion that its value is based 
 upon, or at least is to be decided purely by, its 
 influence upon the life and character of the individual, 
 seems to them preposterous and immoral. What 
 right, they ask, has any one to believe what cannot 
 in some way be proved to be in harmony with the 
 ultimate nature of things? and how can the belief 
 in what is false by any possibility minister to the 
 higher life, unless truth and goodness are in hopeless 
 disharmony with each other ? To minds of this type, 
 therefore, a clearly formulated system of ideas is a 
 necessity. They do not deny that religion is personal, 
 but they maintain that unless the beliefs of 'the 
 individual are true, his life will not be that to which 
 man is fitted, and was meant, to attain. Agreeing 
 in this general contention, representatives of this view 
 of religion may yet differ fundamentally in regard to 
 the foundation of religious belief; some appealing 
 to the authority of a church, or of scripture, others to 
 the self-evidencing power of reason. In the one case, 
 religious truth is conceived to be formulated in a 
 definite creed or collection of dogmas, in the other 
 to consist in a science or philosophy of religion. 
 
 Still another attitude towards religion is assumed 
 by those who lay great stress upon the rites and 
 ceremonies in which religion is outwardly expressed. 
 The representatives of this view do not deny that 
 their tendency is to identify the religious life with 
 the performance of so-called " religious " acts, and to 
 value the creed less in itself than as the authoritative 
 constitution imposed by the Church. 
 
6 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 In these lectures I do not propose to deal with 
 this last type of thought. It seems enough to say, 
 that whatever value may be ascribed to ritual, there 
 can be no vital religion which does not express itself 
 in a life, or which cannot be formulated in a definite 
 system of ideas. Nor would any high-minded sacer- 
 dotalist deny the truth of the statement that " pure 
 ritual and undefiled is to visit the fatherless and 
 widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself un- 
 spotted from the world," though he might add that 
 it also included the performance of the religious acts 
 enjoined by the Church. There remain to be con- 
 sidered the other two types of thought : that which 
 attaches predominant importance to religion as a life, 
 and tends to minimize the value of doctrine, and 
 that which insists upon the supreme importance of 
 true belief as the indispensable condition of the re- 
 ligious life. It will be convenient to begin with the 
 latter, and first of all with the view which bases the 
 truth of religious beliefs upon the authority of a 
 particular Church. The special form of this doctrine 
 which I propose to consider is that which was first 
 clearly expressed by Cardinal Newman, and has since 
 been endorsed by some of the most distinguished and 
 enlightened exponents of the Roman Church ; but it 
 is practically accepted by all those representatives of 
 other churches, who seek to base the doctrines of 
 religion on authority. I shall therefore endeavour to 
 determine the element of truth which is contained 
 in the appeal to an authority other than that of 
 the individual consciousness. 
 
 The Christian religion, as it finds expression in the 
 New Testament, is not as yet a system of doctrine, 
 though no doubt in the epistles of St Paul and in 
 the fourth Gospel the beginning of the reflective 
 
RELIGION AND AUTHORITY 7 
 
 process is already apparent. When we consider, how- 
 ever, that this reflective process was essential to the 
 liberation of the principle of Christianity from the 
 accidents of its Jewish origin and to its triumph 
 over the pagan conception of life to which it was 
 opposed, we can hardly accept the view of Renan 
 and others, that the transition from its first intuitive 
 form to its later reflective form was an inevitable 
 but melancholy degradation. What leads these writers 
 to look at all systematic thought about religion as 
 doing violence to its original simplicity and power 
 is mainly a confusion between dogma, in the sense 
 of a number of propositions based upon external 
 authority, and a reasoned doctrine which claims no 
 other support than its own inherent truth. But these 
 two forms of reflection are widely different from each 
 other. In the former, the assumption is virtually 
 made that truth is not self-evidencing, but depends for 
 its validity upon the attestation of an external witness ; 
 while the latter claims to be but the explicit formu- 
 lation of the rational system already implicit in the 
 intuition of its founder. That the rise of dogma 
 was inevitable becomes apparent when we consider 
 the antagonists that Christianity had to meet and 
 overcome. The early community of Christians soon 
 contained among its members men whose minds had 
 been nourished on Greek philosophy ; and for such men 
 it was a simple necessity to reconcile their faith with 
 their intelligence. The fourth Gospel, by representing 
 Christ as the Eternal Word, which yet manifested 
 itself in an ordinary human life, gave rise to a problem 
 which could only be solved for the intellect by the 
 adaptation of ideas borrowed from Greek philosophy 
 to the content of Christian faith ; and there was a 
 certain want of harmony between the form and the 
 
8 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 matter to which it was applied, that resulted in the 
 conversion of the large intuitions of primitive Chris- 
 tianity into " mysteries " ; which no doubt preserved 
 the various elements of the original intuition, but at 
 the same time held them together in a more or less 
 arbitrary and mechanical way. Moreover, a certain 
 amount of dogma was required to serve as the 
 unifying principle of a society which found itself in 
 an alien world, and which yet claimed to regulate 
 the lives of men in their whole compass ; and, on 
 the other hand, such a society was necessary to give 
 authority to the dogmas. As a natural result we 
 find in the fourth century a complete system of 
 doctrine, implicit belief in which was held by the 
 Church to be essential to salvation. The dogma, 
 as it was held, expressed mainly what was contained 
 in scripture, but the truth of scripture had itself to 
 be guaranteed by the authority of the Church. " Ego 
 vero evangelio non crederem" says Augustine, " nisi 
 me catholicae ecclesiae cominoveret auctoritas!' And 
 indeed this view was inevitable, for when the original 
 intuition was no longer experienced in its over- 
 whelming power and vividness, and as yet an indirect 
 path back to it had not been found through free 
 and untrammelled speculation, the truth half hidden 
 in dogma must for the time either get its support 
 from external authority or be lost to the world. 
 
 This glance at the origin of Christian dogma may 
 perhaps enable us to realize the form in which the 
 principle of authority first presents itself That form 
 is as yet naive and unsophisticated. It is assumed 
 that the Church is but the divinely appointed 
 instrument for the simple transmission of " the faith 
 once delivered to the saints." No doubt conceptions 
 borrowed from Greek philosophy are freely used, 
 
RELIGION AND AUTHORITY 9 
 
 but it is assumed that their apph'cation to the truths 
 of religion in no way affects their sense. The 
 principle of authority, however, obviously requires 
 modification, if it is still to be maintained after 
 nineteen centuries of progress. More particularly, it 
 must be brought into harmony with the fact, that 
 not only secular knowledge, but the dogmas of the 
 Church themselves, have undergone development. The 
 first thinker to recognize the necessity of reconciling 
 the progress of theology with the principle of authority 
 was Cardinal Newman, who, in his famous " Essay on 
 the Development of Christian Doctrine,'' advanced a 
 view which with a certain modification is still relied 
 upon by the most advanced thinkers of the Romish 
 Church, and indeed by all theologians who believe 
 at once in authority and progress. 
 
 The Bible, as Newman points out, is neither the 
 repository of a definite system of doctrines, nor does it 
 contain a single unchanging set of ideas. The former 
 supposition is due to the natural but indefensible 
 tendency to read into the words of scripture a meaning 
 which they do not really bear, and the latter to 
 ignorance of development within the Bible itself 
 through the prophets to Jesus, whose words are in 
 their turn developed by the Apostles. No doubt 
 " the whole truth, or large portions of it, are told, 
 yet only in their rudiments, or in miniature ; ' and 
 they are expanded and finished in their parts as the 
 course of revelation proceeds." Nor can it be held 
 that this process of expansion and completion ends 
 with the apostles ; for " in the apostolic teaching, no 
 historical point can be found at which the growth 
 of doctrine ceased."^ 
 
 What, then, is dogma? (i) It is the reflective 
 
 ^Cf. Mellone's Leaders of Religious Thought, pp. 64-67. 
 
10 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 formulation of faith. Certainly dogma does not pro- 
 duce faith, but the content of faith is expressed in 
 dogma. And by "faith" must be understood, not merely 
 an emotion, but also an intellectual comprehension 
 of the object to which it is directed. Faith, as we 
 may say, is a passionate belief that Christianity is a 
 true revelation of the nature of God. (2) As dogma 
 is merely the intellectual formulation of what is 
 contained in faith, " the formulated dogmas are not 
 essential to the genuineness or perfection of religion 
 or religious belief." (3) There is another characteristic 
 of dogma upon which Newman insists : it is not a 
 complete expression of faith, but only a " symbol " 
 or " sign " of it. (4) But, while dogma is merely 
 the abstract formulation of faith — while it is, therefore, 
 neither essential to the perfection of faith nor a 
 complete expression of all that is contained in faith — 
 it yet is a means, and indeed an indispensable means, 
 of preserving and perpetuating faith. On the other 
 hand, it would be a mistake to contrast faith as 
 perfect with dogma as imperfect ; for, just as dogma 
 is an inadequate expression of faith, so faith itself 
 is an imperfect substitute for ultimate truth. A 
 religious idea corresponds to its object as ectype to 
 archetype. Faith holds God to be eternal, omnipotent, 
 omniscient, omnipresent ; but all these predicates are 
 but our poor human substitutes for the Divine verities — 
 "metaphors" or "symbols'* employed to express the 
 inexpressible, and indeed incomprehensible, approxima- 
 tions to a truth which is for ever beyond our reach.^ 
 The bare outline just given of Newman's theory 
 of Development is sufficient to show the originality, 
 and in a certain sense the comprehensiveness, of his 
 
 ^Cf. Dr. Wilfrid Ward's article on "Newman and Sabatier,*' in the 
 Fortnightly Review for May, 1901. 
 
RELIGION AND AUTHORITY ii 
 
 thought Like all the higher minds of the nineteenth 
 century, he instinctively seeks for a principle of 
 reconciliation which shall lift us above such abstract 
 opposites as faith and doctrine, revelation and reason, 
 eternal truth and human fallibility ; and the lever 
 which he employs is that distinctive idea of the 
 nineteenth century, the idea of development. How 
 far, then, can it be said that he has given us a 
 solution that we can accept without reservation ? 
 
 The conception of development which Newman 
 applies in explanation of the relation between the 
 original " deposit of faith," as he calls it, and the 
 process by which it has been gradually transformed, 
 seems to me to be inadequate. What he means by 
 " development " is something analogous to its older 
 biological use, in which it was employed to designate 
 a theory of preformation, according to which the 
 growth of a living being is " simply a process 
 of enlarging and filling out a miniature organism, 
 actual but invisible, because too inconspicuous," ^ as 
 distinguished from a genuine evolution of new organic 
 forms. Such a view is no more tenable in the realm 
 of ideas than in the sphere of organic nature. The 
 transition from the original intuition to dogma is 
 not a mere expansion of what already exists " in 
 miniature," to use Newman's own phrase ; it is the 
 transformation of a principle into a form which is, 
 at least reflectively, more specific and more complex 
 than the germ from which it is developed. This 
 defect in Newman's conception of development would 
 now, as I think, be admitted by his recent followers, 
 who maintain that there is a genuine development 
 in the ideas of the Divine, as recorded in the Bible 
 itself, and in the history of doctrine, as evolved from 
 
 ^Wallace's Logic of Hegel, p. 424. 
 
12 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 the apostolic teaching, that teaching being itself a 
 development of the teaching of Jesus. And not only 
 does Newman's contention, that there is no break in 
 the continuity of religious life and thought, anticipate 
 in a way the course of the best recent thought, but 
 his assertion that faith includes an intellectual, as 
 well as an emotional element, is of great importance 
 at the present time, when there is a strong tendency 
 to regard religion as purely subjective, and to deny 
 that it is based upon universal principles which can 
 be justified at the bar of reason. In protesting by 
 anticipation against this view — a view which is at 
 bottom sceptical of all truth — Newman did valuable 
 service in the cause of a rational faith. When religion 
 is emptied of its intellectual element, and reduced to 
 an inarticulate feeling, nothing can save it from final 
 extinction. For, feeling as such — feeling conceived 
 in separation from every object — is a pure fiction, 
 to which no real experience corresponds, and which 
 only seems to exist because it is unwittingly invested 
 with a rational element to which it has no rightful 
 claim. Even Schleiermacher, who tended to eliminate 
 its intellectual constituent, after defining religion as 
 a " feeling of absolute dependence,*' goes on to identify 
 this " feeling " with " the consciousness of God." In 
 truth, if we eliminate the reference to a Being higher 
 than self, all that is characteristic of religion vanishes 
 away ; for a feeling which admits of no further 
 definition has no meaning for human life, and in 
 fact no habitation anywhere but in the confused 
 imagination of the theorist. Religion, as Newman 
 rightly maintains, involves more than mere feeling. 
 If we speak of it as feeling at all, we must add that 
 it is the feeling of a rational being, who recognizes 
 his own finitude in contrast and relation to an Infinite 
 
RELIGION AND AUTHORITY 13 
 
 Being. What has led to the supposition that religion 
 is purely a matter of feeling is the familiar experience 
 that it exists, and not infrequently exists in great 
 strength and purity, in those who are unable to 
 analyze their belief, and set forth its constituent 
 elements in reflective form. But the absence of 
 reflection is not the same thing as the undivided 
 sway of feeling. The religious consciousness involves 
 the idea of the Infinite, though that idea may not 
 be made an explicit and separate object of abstract 
 thought ; and if that idea were not present as an 
 informing spirit, giving meaning and direction to 
 faith, the feeling of absolute rest in the Eternal, which 
 is one of its marks, would be inexplicable. 
 
 Newman is therefore right, as I believe, in main- 
 taining that the religious consciousness contains an 
 intellectual or rational element. And he is also right, 
 I think, in affirming that this consciousness is not 
 created by dogma. More hesitation will be felt in 
 admitting that the genuineness and perfection of religion 
 is entirely independent of formulated dogmas. Since 
 faith precedes and is the condition of dogma, obviously 
 it cannot depend for its existence upon dogma ; but 
 it hardly follows that the development of faith into 
 doctrine in no way contributes to the perfection of 
 faith. The formulation by reason of what is implicit 
 in religious intuition is not a work of supererogation ; 
 it is an instance of a universal law of the human 
 mind, and plays an important part in the development 
 of the religious consciousness. Only by formulating 
 his faith, and setting its contents clearly before his 
 mind, does man come to understand what it really 
 involves ; only thus does he learn to eliminate the 
 accidental and self-contradictory ingredients that 
 weaken its power, and to liberate it from its 
 
14 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 sensuous and unspiritual setting. In this way- 
 Christianity, at first swathed in the garments of 
 the Jewish ceremonial law, was purified and univer- 
 salized ; and a similar process has been going on 
 in modern times, by which it has been stripped of 
 the limitations imposed upon it by the application 
 to it of forms of thought borrowed from the later 
 Greek philosophy and by the confinement of its free 
 spirit in the bonds of medieval dualism. Thus the 
 primitive faith, though it contained a principle that, 
 as I believe, can never die — the principle that only 
 in unity with the Infinite can man realize himself — 
 has come to an ever clearer comprehension of its 
 true self By disengaging the principle which operates 
 in simple faith, it is seen to have a wider and more 
 intimate application, as when, to borrow the imagery 
 of Goethe's fairy-tale, the shepherd's hut has expanded 
 into the temple of humanity by the ever clearer realiza- 
 tion of what is meant by love of one's neighbour. It 
 cannot therefore be said that the process of formulating 
 faith has nothing to do with its perfection ; for that 
 process does minister to its perfection by revealing it 
 to itself We may say of it what Shakespeare says 
 of the eye : 
 
 " Nor doth the eye itself, 
 That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself, 
 Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed 
 Salutes each other with each other's form. 
 For speculation turns not to itself. 
 Till it hath travelled and is mirrored there, 
 Where it may see itself."^ 
 
 No doubt the development of faith comes largely 
 through the influence of men of religious genius, who 
 raise it to a higher potency ; but even here the 
 
 ^ Troiius and CressidUy act Hi., scene iii., U. 107-111. 
 
RELIGION AND AUTHORITY jS 
 
 reformulation of faith is an indispensable element in 
 its development. What Newman was mainly thinking 
 of, when he declared that faith is independent of 
 dogma, was no doubt the undeniable fact, that the 
 individual man does not cease to be religious because 
 he does not, and perhaps cannot, express his faith 
 in definite propositions. But, true as this is, it by- 
 no means shows that faith is not enriched by the 
 process in which it is brought to a reflective conscious- 
 ness of its own principle. " No man liveth to himself, 
 no man dieth to himself"; and, though this or that 
 man may live in a faith which he cannot make 
 articulate, it must be remembered that he habitually 
 dwells in an atmosphere of ideas prepared for him 
 by the toil of his fellows, not excluding those who 
 have provided him, without effort on his part, with 
 an instrument of reason in the very words he uses 
 to express what otherwise would be inexpressible. 
 
 Newman, however, tells us that after all dogma is 
 not really an expression of faith, but merely a " symbol" 
 of what cannot be expressed. What he seems to mean 
 is, that there is a fulness and concreteness in the imme- 
 diate religious consciousness which defies all attempts 
 at embodiment in abstract propositions. And no doubt 
 we must admit that it is fatal to identify religion and 
 theology, for such an identification will either destroy 
 the warm and breathing intensity of faith, substituting 
 a creed for a life, or it will convert a system of con- 
 :eptions into a vague and ill-defined mass of feelings, 
 impulses, and images. Religion and theology have 
 sach their own form and their own law, and nothing 
 3Ut confusion can result from fusing together things 
 >o disparate in their nature. The perfection of religion 
 ;onsists in complete immersion of the whole man in 
 ;he Eternal, the perfection of theology in the complete 
 
i6 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 comprehension of the Eternal by the intellect ; and, 
 although, in the wide sense, religion is the source from 
 which theology must draw its content, it is nevertheless 
 true that a religion which never rises to self-conscious- 
 ness in a theology will soon have no content from 
 which theology can draw. Nor do I think that 
 theology is merely the symbol of a reality contained 
 only in religion, if this means that religion has a wealth 
 of content which escapes formulation. In the sense 
 already stated, theology cannot comprehend religion 
 without becoming identical with it, and that would 
 mean the destruction of both ; but this is in no way 
 inconsistent with the view, that theology may bring 
 to explicit consciousness ^^ principle of which religion 
 is the personal consciousness. The notion that theology 
 is merely symbolic seems to me to rest upon the false 
 assumption that thought operates with mere abstrac- 
 tions, whereas it really works with conceptions, which 
 are ultimately distinctions within a single principle that 
 admits of infinite applications. 
 
 So far from taking this view of thought, Newman 
 goes on to maintain that, just as dogma is an inade- 
 quate expression of faith, so faith is itself an imperfect 
 substitute for the apprehension of ultimate truth. And 
 here, perhaps, we come clearly in sight of the funda- 
 mental assumption which underlies the whole of New- 
 man's reasoning, and indeed of the reasoning of all who 
 ultimately fall back upon authority. If the faith of the 
 individual is veritably life in the Eternal, there is no 
 reason to seek for any tertium quid to unite man and 
 God ; for they are, on that supposition, already united. 
 But if faith is after all merely the aspirations of a weak 
 and fallible mortal after an Infinite to which he can 
 never reach, it is necessary to find some external 
 medium by which the finite and. infinite may be 
 
RELIGION AND AUTHORITY 17 
 
 Drought together. That medium Newman finds in 
 the authority of the Church, just as others have found 
 It in a mystical intuition, or in some form of mind 
 different from our ordinary consciousness. In referring 
 the view of Newman to his hidden assumption of the 
 Church as an external authority necessary to help out 
 the weakness of faith, I do not mean that he in any 
 way tampered with the facts as he read them ; but only 
 that, seeing them as he did, no other solution seemed 
 to him open. Newman saw, as every devout mind 
 must see, that it is impossible to comprehend the 
 Infinite in all its fulness and perfection, while we yet 
 must in some sense know the Infinite, or we are for 
 ever shut out from reality and truth. " Who can by 
 searching find out God, who can find out the Almighty 
 unto perfection ? " This difficulty he tried to solve by 
 distinguishing between the " symbols " we employ to 
 express the truth, and the " truth " they are meant to 
 express. Now, there is great plausibility in the idea, 
 that all our conceptions of the Divine are " symbols " 
 of a Reality that we do not grasp in itself ; but, when 
 it is pressed to its logical consequences, it results in the 
 denial of all knowledge of any kind. Let us suppose, 
 with Newman, that our highest ideas of the Divine 
 are merely symbolic. Then, what we call our know- 
 ledge of God cannot be the comprehension of God as 
 He is, but must be merely the presentation of a mental 
 construction of our own, which stands to us for God, 
 but is in reality only a convenient fiction, which we 
 assume to be in some way representative of a God 
 whom in any proper sense we do not know. But, 
 if, in thinking of God, we do not really comprehend 
 Him, by what process is He brought within the range 
 of our experience ? It is no answer to fall back upon 
 the " imbecility of the human intelligence," for it is the 
 
 6 
 
i8 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 religious consciousness as a personal experience whiclT 
 is here in question, and if that consciousness does not 
 bring us into the presence of God, we have no other 
 organ by which to apprehend Him. And if Newman 
 is precluded from urging the limitation of the intellect in 
 this case, he cannot take refuge in a mystical intuition, 
 for he does not admit that we possess any higher form 
 of apprehension than that of the ordinary conscious- 
 ness. Nor, again, can he urge that the religious 
 consciousness is a form of feeling ; for he contends, 
 and, as I think, rightly contends, that faith must have 
 an object to which it is directed, and this object, as he 
 admits, exists only for thought Now, if God is 
 present neither in pure feeling, nor in pure thought, 
 nor in the unity of the two, how can the human mind 
 possibly come into contact with Him ? As Newman 
 rejects the via negativa of a mystical union with God, 
 maintaining that a rational faith is the highest form of 
 human experience, we are forced to conclude that there 
 is in his doctrine a fundamental discrepancy which 
 vitiates his main conclusion. If we cannot compre- 
 hend the nature of God, it is obvious that we cannot 
 even comprehend that we cannot comprehend Him. 
 A symbol is meaningless except in relation to that 
 which it symbolizes, and if we are unable to reach out 
 beyond the symbol, we can never know that it is a 
 symbol of anything, much less the symbol of an Infinite 
 which by hypothesis is hidden from us by the very 
 constitution of our minds. We cannot, then, as I 
 think, admit that the Divine lies beyond the reach 
 of our consciousness. 
 
 But, if we deny Newman's view of the symbolical 
 character of our religious ideas, we are forced to face 
 the problem of how a finite being can comprehend the 
 Infinite. Can we know God without being God ? 
 
RELIGION AND AUTHORITY 19 
 
 This is a problem with which every philosophy of 
 religion must grapple on pain of annihilation. I hope 
 to do something in the sequel to solve it. Meantime, 
 it may be pointed out that to claim knowledge of the 
 Infinite is not to claim infinite knowledge. To say 
 that 3 + 2 = 5 is certainly not to assume complete y 
 knowledge, and yet, if the judgment is true at all, it 
 is true for all intelligences and at all moments, and 
 in that sense is a knowledge of the Infinite. So if 
 I say that " God is one," I express what is true 
 absolutely, if it is true at all, no matter what the 
 character of the " oneness " may be. The judgment 
 means, that whatever else God is, He is one. Now, if 
 this is true, we reach a conception which no possible 
 extension of experience can possibly overthrow, though, 
 with the increase of knowledge, it will no doubt receive 
 further definition and interpretation. If God is " one," 
 He may still be " one " in many senses ; we may con- 
 ceivably define His unity as the unity of a Substance, 
 the unity of a Person, or the unity of Spirit ; but, 
 whichever of these determinations we may ultimately 
 adopt, our original proposition, that He is one and not 
 many, will remain intact ; and, indeed, one test of the 
 truth of different attempts to characterize His nature, 
 will be, whether they are, or are not, consistent with 
 the fundamental characterization of Him as one. No 
 doubt, if we are challenged to prove the oneness of 
 God, we shall have some difficulty in doing so ; a 
 difficulty, however, which will not seem insuperable 
 to any one who sees that, by its denial, the whole of 
 our experience is made inexplicable. Starting, then, 
 from the comprehension of God as one, we may pro- 
 ceed to ask what further determinations are essential to 
 the explanation of the facts of our experience. In this 
 way we may, as I think, proceed step by step to define 
 
20 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 God, ue, to state the fundamental determinations implied 
 in the reality of the world we know. And if in the 
 end we admit, as we must, that we cannot fully deter- 
 mine God, that will in no way invalidate our claim to 
 know what God in His essential nature truly is. Thus 
 every step in our thought of God may be a real com- 
 prehension of what He is, while yet our knowledge of 
 Him is no doubt but poor and barren as compared with 
 the unsearchable riches of His being. 
 
 Why, then, does Newman deny our knowledge of 
 God ? Why does he set up an impassable barrier 
 between the consciousness of man and the reality of 
 God ? Partly at least because, in his view, the human 
 mind is not only incapable of itself of discovering 
 ultimate reality, but even of really comprehending it 
 when it is supernaturally revealed. The Church, as 
 divinely appointed, must guarantee what reason can 
 neither originate nor understand. But this doctrine 
 cuts both ways. If the mind cannot comprehend God 
 even when He is revealed to it, how can He be revealed 
 at all ? To say that the Church stands sponsor for the 
 existence and nature of God does not do away with 
 the fundamental difficulty, that man, as a being who is 
 unable to transcend his own limited consciousness, 
 cannot be the recipient of even the certainty that 
 God is, because he cannot form any idea of what this 
 God of whom the Church speaks really is. Nor 
 indeed can he have real knowledge of anything else, 
 and therefore not even of the Church, nor of what the 
 Church means. Nothing, in short, can be revealed to 
 a being who is incapable of grasping reality. You 
 cannot make a dog or a child understand a proposition 
 in Euclid, because the faculty of working with universals 
 is absent in the one and undeveloped in the other; and, 
 similarly, if my so-called knowledge of God is never 
 
RELIGION AND AUTHORITY 21 
 
 really of God, but only of " symbols " that are inter- 
 posed between my consciousness and reality, anything 
 pretending to be a revelation of God will be to me as 
 incomprehensible as the pons asinorum to the dog or 
 the child. The fundamental weakness of this whole 
 mode of thought was clearly brought to light, subse- 
 quent to the time of Newman, by ManseFs self-contra- 
 dictory attempt, in his Limits of Religious Thought^ 
 to show that the Infinite is a self-contradictory concep- 
 tion, being inconceivable by us because of the imbecility 
 of our intelligence. As Newman urged the feebleness 
 of our minds to attain to union with God, in order to 
 force the admission of the divine authority of the 
 Church, so Mansel, by an argument at bottom identical, 
 sought to establish the authority of Scripture on the 
 basis of the insuperable limitations of the human 
 intellect. The logical result of both doctrines was 
 soon seen in the philosophy of Herbert Spencer, 
 who drew the inference that the term " God " is but 
 a name for that ultimate Reality, the nature of which 
 is by us unknowable and indefinable. When the idea 
 of God has thus been emptied of all content, it cannot 
 matter very much whether it stands for something or 
 nothing ; one thing at least is certain, that it cannot 
 serve as the foundation either of religion or of 
 theology. 
 
LECTURE SECOND 
 
 THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 
 
 At our last meeting we were occupied in considering 
 the general nature of religion, the different elements 
 which enter into it, and the relation of these elements 
 to one another. Religion we agreed to regard as 
 the consciousness of the divine, and its constituents 
 as the response to the divine of the individual, its 
 comprehension by his intelligence, and the outward 
 expression of this rational emotion in certain acts of 
 ritual. We further discovered that, in the attempt to 
 understand the religious consciousness, different thinkers 
 attach pre-eminent importance to one or other of these 
 constituents, and thus reach widely different conclusions: 
 some forcing the personal aspect into the foreground, 
 while others attach almost exclusive importance to 
 its intellectual or conceptual aspect To the latter 
 class belong those theologians, whether Roman Catholic 
 or Protestant, who hold that the truth of the Christian 
 religion cannot be established by the exercise of private 
 judgment, but requires for its security the authority of 
 a church. A distinguished representative of this mode 
 of thought we found in Cardinal Newman, whose 
 " Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine" 
 struck the key-note with which the speculations of 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 23 
 
 more recent thinkers are in substantial harmony. 
 That Essay we found to be so far in agreement with 
 the reconciliatory spirit of the nineteenth century as to 
 apply the idea of development in explanation of the 
 permanence in change which has marked the history of 
 religion, but to be defective to this extent, that 
 development is conceived rather as a mere enlargement 
 of features present from the first than as a genuine 
 evolution. Newman, however, as we saw, rightly 
 insists upon the presence in the religious consciousness 
 of an intellectual as well as an emotional element, 
 though he hardly does justice to the value of the 
 explicit formulation of that element as a means of 
 enriching faith by bringing to clear consciousness its 
 permanent essence as distinguished from its evanescent 
 form, and enabling it to gain a mastery over all 
 the manifestations of the human spirit. Conceiving 
 of dogma as merely a symbol of faith, Newman is 
 forced to fall back on the external authority of the 
 Church, a conclusion which seems to be confirmed 
 by his view of faith, as itself but the " symbol " of 
 a truth with which the individual mind, because of 
 the limitations of human thought, never comes in direct 
 contact. This whole mode of conception we ventured 
 to reject, together with the corollary that religion 
 must ultimately rest upon external authority ; main- 
 taining that, if pressed to its logical conclusion, it 
 results in absolute scepticism ; and in place of it we 
 sought to commend what seemed the self-consistent 
 doctrine, that in virtue of his rational nature man 
 is not only capable of comprehending the Infinite 
 and Eternal, but in truth only requires to bring into 
 clear consciousness what is implied in his experience 
 of the world and of himself to see that, as his true 
 life consists in union with the Divine, so it is the 
 
24 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 conception of the Divine which gives meaning to the 
 whole of his experience. With this conclusion we 
 might pass from the theory which appeals to external 
 authority in support of faith, but it seems advisable 
 first to consider what more recent exponents of it 
 have to say in its favour. 
 
 It is customary, as we are told by Dr. Wilfrid 
 Ward,^ for those who attack the principle of Authority 
 to give a false and misleading account of what it 
 means, representing it as a claim upon men to accept 
 certain religious dogmas as true, not because they 
 admit of demonstration, but because they are vouched 
 for by an infallible Church. No intelligent man would 
 advance or submit to so preposterous a demand. 
 What is really contended is that the living Church 
 embodies the intuitions of the great saints, and the 
 reflections of the great theologians, as exercised by 
 them in the consideration and analysis of the Christian 
 revelation. The function of the Church has been to 
 proclaim formally through its official organs the 
 conclusions derived in this way from scripture and 
 tradition. St. Augustine, and not any infallible teacher, 
 formed the theological intellect of Western Christen- 
 dom, as Cardinal Newman reminds us, just as St. 
 Thomas Aquinas was the master spirit in the age 
 of Dante. It is individual genius within the Church 
 which has for the most part suggested the successive 
 developments of the primitive revelation and its 
 intellectual illustration and setting. It is further 
 contended that, not merely in matters of religious 
 belief, but in the case of all beliefs, Authority plays 
 an important and a necessary part. ( I ) No one would 
 now press the right of private judgment to the extreme 
 of claiming for it the privilege of holding any opinion, 
 
 "^ Hibbert Journal^ i. 678 ff. 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 25 
 
 however absurd or immoral. We all recognize the 
 corporate authority of experts in history, physical 
 science, and other departments of knowledge; and we 
 have no hesitation in saying that the mere layman 
 should defer to their authority, devoting his own 
 reasoning powers mainly to the correction and develop- 
 ment of the corporate reason. The human race has 
 justly been compared to a living organism, and if there 
 is any force in the analogy there must be not only 
 the same division of labour in the one as in the 
 other, but also growth and development. The long 
 experience of the race, in fact, is to a great extent 
 the ground of the Authority exercised by the educated 
 over the uneducated. (2) Besides the Authority of 
 experts, a peculiar Authority is rightly claimed for 
 those whose perceptions are either absolutely new or at 
 least abnormally clear and distinct. These are the 
 great spiritual pioneers of the race, whose conscience is 
 supremely sensitive to the direct influence of the 
 Divine. Here is a new Authority, whose intimations 
 should be acted upon, tested, and developed. Of this 
 nature is the Authority of Christ, the highest of all 
 Authority because based upon an experience absolutely 
 unique, in which the Unknown God, dimly present in 
 the conscience of prophet and sage, is openly and 
 unambiguously proclaimed. (3) Lastly comes the 
 Authority of the Christian Church, which, resting upon 
 the revelations of conscience and its development by 
 Christ, may fairly be held to embody the highest 
 spiritual perceptions known to man. And not only so, 
 but it is the custodian of the conceptions elaborated by 
 Christian theologians from conscience and revelation. 
 Thus it contains at once the highest intuitions and the 
 most comprehensive conceptions of Christendom, while 
 the blending of spiritual perception and rational 
 
26 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 analysis is secured by the rulers who preserve the 
 organic unity of the Church, protect the revelation from 
 rationalistic assaults, and seek to keep theology 
 spiritual as well as rational. 
 
 No one can fail to be struck by the moderate and 
 reasonable tone of the modern exponents of Authority, 
 as indicated by the theory of which a hasty summary 
 has just been given. It is of good augury for the 
 future of theology that the older idea of an absolutely 
 fixed and unchanging body of doctrine has come to 
 seem incredible to the more enlightened minds in the 
 Romish Church, just as the view held for so long by 
 Protestant theologians, that " all the books of the Bible 
 contain the same rigid system of ideas with unessential 
 variations," has been modified by recent advances in 
 historical criticism. But, while we cannot but rejoice 
 in the new and more sympathetic attitude of liberal 
 theologians, we must ask whether, having gone so far, 
 they are not in consistency under compulsion to go 
 further. If there is no infallible system of doctrine, 
 can we still retain the conception of an infallible 
 Church? Is it possible to admit that dogma has 
 undergone continual evolution, without granting that 
 the Church has not always stood for the highest 
 truth ? And if the Church has in some cases opposed 
 what afterwards she accepted, are we not forced to 
 say that the authority which she has exercised has 
 sometimes been an obstacle to the truth, instead of 
 being the condition of its development? These 
 questions cannot be summarily dismissed, but must 
 be candidly considered, and answered either positively 
 or negatively. 
 
 The Church, as it is claimed, has been the custodian 
 of the intuitions of the great saints and the ratiocina- 
 tions of the great theologians ; so that the revelations 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 27 
 
 of men of religious genius have been the main factor 
 in determining the theology which official authority 
 guards. Now, it is of course true that Christianity has 
 developed under the influence of the new experiences 
 and the reflections of men whose ideas have received 
 the official sanction of the Church. But, while this is 
 admitted, it does not follow that there was no truth in 
 the intuitions and reflections of those who have not 
 only failed to receive authoritative recognition, but who 
 have even been condemned as heretics. There are, 
 indeed, thinkers within the Church who are candid 
 enough to admit, what in any case is undeniable, that 
 there have been occasions in which the heretic was 
 right and the official authority wrong; as when 
 Marcion protested against the acceptance of the Old 
 Testament as an absolute standard of Christian morals. 
 It is hardly possible to reconcile such a lapse with the 
 contention that the Church has always guarded the 
 truth, except on the principle that even her mistakes 
 have been advantageous in the long run ; a principle 
 which may indeed be defended if we take a sufficiently 
 comprehensive view, but only by a method which 
 would equally establish the rationality of the wildest 
 deviations from truth and the most atrocious crimes. 
 Without entering into this subtle and difficult problem, 
 I think we may fairly say, with a recent defender of 
 the Romish Church, that by the condemnation of 
 Marcion, the difficulty, which he sought to have solved, 
 was "thereafter thrust into the background under the 
 aegis of Church authority, only to become more 
 prominent than ever when . . . Luther used the Old 
 Testament to defend the polygamy of a Christian King 
 and the Puritans to defend the murder of enemies 
 whom the Lord had delivered into their hands." ^ 
 
 "^ Hibbert Journal, ii. 218. 
 
28 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 In the condemnation of Marcion, then, we have 
 an instance in which the authority of the Church 
 was admittedly exercised in withstanding the truth. 
 Is it not evident from such a fact alone, that the 
 progress of truth cannot be confined within any 
 prescribed limits ? Beyond the sphere of ideas which 
 official authority guards, lies a wider realm of truth, 
 which it ignores or condemns, and this fact is in no 
 way invalidated by the consideration that the Church 
 has been enriched by the intuitions and the reasonings 
 of her favoured sons. It is not denied that on the 
 whole the Church for many centuries preserved truth 
 which would otherwise have been lost to the world ; 
 but this cannot be taken to mean that it never resisted 
 the progress of truth, and certainly it does not entitle 
 us to assert that, in these days when many organs, 
 all working together and contributing towards the 
 good of the whole, are essential to perfection, all truth 
 is shut up within a single branch of the Christian 
 Church, or even within all its branches in their totality. 
 
 While the development of theology, as it is held, 
 has been determined mainly by the intuitions and 
 reflections of men of original genius, the Church is 
 claimed to have exercised a controlling and selective 
 influence, guarding the truth from the aberrations of 
 an unsanctified reason. Obviously, therefore, a certain 
 critical process, involving the exercise of reason, falls 
 to be discharged by the Church. Its various councils 
 weighed and adjudicated upon competing doctrines, 
 determining how far the ideas suggested by men of 
 genius were compatible with the essence of Christianity. 
 And it must be admitted that, on the whole, the Church 
 has shown a true instinct in refusing to endorse one- 
 sided views of the divine nature. In this way it 
 discharged an inestimable service in its earlier history, 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 29 
 
 rejecting dualistic views, which involved the absolute 
 opposition of divine and human ; refusing to break 
 with the past by discarding the Old Testament scrip- 
 tures, which contain the records of a religious experience, 
 of which Christianity is not the abrogation but the 
 fulfilment; absorbing Greek Philosophy and employ- 
 ing its categories in the construction of a Theology ; 
 and, in our own day, using the discoveries of science 
 and the fuller comprehension of philosophy to deepen 
 and expand its conception of God, the world, and man. 
 But, in all this process, we must discern the operation 
 of that higher reason, which in other forms gives mean- 
 ing to the intuitions of men of religious genius, informs 
 the speculations of philosophy, and determines the 
 discoveries of science. What gives force to the 
 decisions of the Church is the reason immanent in it. 
 Its authority springs from no external transmission 
 of power, nor does it possess any special means of 
 insight not open to the universal spirit of humanity; 
 and its decrees have precisely that degree of value and 
 no more that is imparted to them by their harmony 
 with the truth. That the Church has in general stood 
 for the truth, and has been thfe indispensable instrument 
 in the preservation of a spiritual view of life, is but an 
 instance of that fundamental reasonableness which lies 
 deep in human nature. Nor can she claim to have 
 been invariably free from aberration and error, for 
 which humanity has had to suffer, and in some 
 cases to suffer terribly. The Church, in short, like all 
 human institutions, is neither infallible nor devoid of 
 reason : she has undoubtedly been a witness for the 
 truth, but it is an utterly untenable position that no 
 truth has been developed beyond her pale. 
 
 What, then, is the ultimate court of appeal ? There 
 Is no ultimate court of appeal but reason, as interpreting 
 
30 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 the growing experience of the race. Anything short 
 of this must be more or less a distortion of the true 
 nature of things. And reason can only do its perfect 
 work, if it is left free and untrammelled. This does not 
 mean that there are no eternal principles of truth and 
 righteousness. The notion that the denial of all 
 authority but reason is equivalent to the assertion 
 that everyone has a right to raise his private judgment 
 and his conscience to the rank of an absolute authority, 
 irresponsible to any other tribunal, is a mere travesty 
 of the so-called " right of private judgment." There is 
 no right divine to reason wrong, any more than to 
 govern wrong. Nothing absolves a man from the 
 obligation to accept nothing but the truth. The justifi- 
 cation of the right, or rather the duty, of private 
 judgment is that, as truth is not revealed to man 
 once for all, but is slowly evolved by immense patience 
 and toil, any foreclosing of the pathway to truth — 
 any assumption of an ultimate and intranscendible 
 limit — puts an arbitrary stop to that free movement 
 of the spirit, without which a new and deeper insight 
 into reality is impossible. As Cardinal Newman 
 pointed out, the theology of a given age is the 
 expression of the stage of truth at which man has 
 so far arrived, but it is not to be identified with absolute 
 truth, truth in its full-orbed completeness. Nevertheless, 
 as I believe, the truth of any age contains absolute 
 truth within it, as the germ contains the developed 
 organism ; for, at no time, not even in his primitive 
 half-blind imaginings, is man entirely destitute of the 
 consciousness of the divine, just as in his latest stage 
 he cannot hope to find the universe absolutely trans- 
 parent to his spiritual vision. 
 
 The element of truth, then, in the contention that 
 theology rests upon the authority of the Church, seems 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 31 
 
 to me to be this, that the Church has on the whole 
 endorsed that higher view of life which is the most 
 precious possession of the race, a view which has been 
 mainly determined by the insight of its saints and 
 thinkers ; i.e. by reason as interpreting the deepest 
 experiences of the heart and coming to the conscious- 
 ness of itself in the comprehension of a rational 
 universe. What is called the authority of the Church 
 is really the authority of reason or truth, and where the 
 Church has been misled, or has been contented with 
 a half-truth, to that extent it has no authority what- 
 ever. Let us, however, consider the special reasons 
 which are usually put forward in support of the con- 
 tention that the authority of the Church is in all cases 
 absolute and unquestionable. 
 
 An argument is based, for one thing, on the analogy 
 of science and religion. As the layman must acknow- 
 ledge the authority of the expert in history, physical 
 science, and other departments of thought, devoting his 
 own reasoning powers to the correction and develop- 
 ment of the corporate reason ; so, it is said, the 
 individual ought to submit to the authority of the 
 Church, reserving his independent activity for the 
 enrichment of the truth announced by the Church. 
 And of course no one is likely to deny that we shall 
 all show our wisdom by deferring to the conclusions 
 reached by those whose lives are devoted to the 
 solution of a special problem. But we must not 
 lightly assume that an acceptance of the conclusions 
 reached by a body of experts is identical in principle 
 with submission to an external authority. Why do we 
 hesitate to dispute the statements of scientific men, 
 especially if there is substantial agreement among 
 them ? We do so, or should do so, because we have 
 good grounds for believing that they have gone through 
 
32 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 a process, and reached a result, which is identical with 
 the process and result that we should ourselves have 
 experienced had it been possible for us to devote our- 
 selves with equal energy and ability to the same problem. 
 Our assent, in fact, rests upon the tacit conviction that 
 the human mind is in all men of the same fundamental 
 texture, and that, however men may differ in the degree 
 of their intelligence, all will ultimately draw the same 
 conclusions from the same premises. Such a conviction 
 is justifiable only on the supposition that the world in 
 which we live is a rational world, and that in our own 
 intelligence is to be found the principle by which it 
 may be comprehended. Were the universe funda- 
 mentally irrational, or were our intelligence incapable 
 of comprehending it — and either supposition leads to 
 the other — there would be no basis for our faith in the 
 conclusions of science, and therefore no reason for 
 ascribing to experts any more '' authority " than to 
 others. In a company of the blind, it has been 
 said, even the one-eyed man is king. But where 
 all are equally blind there is no king. The so-called 
 " authority " of the expert, then, is really conceived 
 by us to flow from his greater power of rational insight 
 Whenever we have reason to believe that he is swayed 
 by prejudice or passion, we lose faith in his judgment, 
 and he ceases to have " authority " over us. Nor can 
 it be admitted without reserve that it is our duty to 
 devote ourselves solely to the correction and develop- 
 ment of the corporate reason. No doubt even genius 
 of the highest order does not entitle its possessor 
 to set aside the long toil of ages, as if it had borne 
 no fruit ; but, true as this is, it in no way justifies 
 blind submission to current ideas as if they were 
 ultimate. What is the function of genius but to draw 
 aside the veil of tradition which half-conceals and half- 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 33 
 
 eveals the fair form of Truth ? Whether a man is to 
 ►ccupy himself with the application of ideas already 
 istablished, or to transmute the whole mass of ideas 
 :haracteristic of his age into a higher truth, must 
 iepend upon his rank in the scale of intelligence. 
 ?rom whatever point of view we look at it, we thus 
 ind that no one is called upon to submit to any 
 luthority but the authority of reason itself, a reason 
 vhich is immanent in all men, and of which therefore 
 10 man or body of men can claim to be the privileged 
 possessors. The scientific expert who should claim 
 juperhuman powers of insight would only draw down 
 apon himself a well-merited suspicion of intellectual 
 irrogance or charlatanry. His real strength lies in his 
 ippeal to the universal intelligence. If, therefore, 
 the analogy suggested by the relation of the plain man 
 to the scientific expert is to be valid, the authority 
 :laimed for the Church must be placed in its superior 
 rationality. The man of religious genius, like the man 
 Df scientific, artistic, or philosophical genius, is endowed 
 mth a free and penetrative vision which lifts him above 
 :he confused and perplexed consciousness of the 
 ordinary man ; but he is no dweller in a strange 
 aniverse to which others are denied access ; what he 
 sees, those of duller perception can be brought to see 
 under his guidance and inspiration. Just as the poet 
 3r painter, by stripping off the accidents which hide it 
 from us, directs our attention to a beauty, which we 
 too may come to see, so the man of religious genius, 
 dwelling habitually in the Eternal, of which we catch 
 Dnly fitful glimpses, enables us in some measure to see 
 with his purer and clearer eyes. The real analogy 
 ivould therefore seem to be between the scientific expert 
 ind the man of religious genius, while the plain man 
 ivill be related to the former very much as the Church 
 
 c 
 
34 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 is held to be related to the latter. And just as the 
 ordinary man can have no valid ground either for 
 accepting or for rejecting the results of science but 
 their harmony or their disharmony with reason, so the 
 Church which endorses or disapproves of the intuitions 
 of the religious genius can have no defensible ground 
 for its deliverances other than their agreement with 
 reason and truth. 
 
 And obviously the comparison of the human race 
 to an organism in no way invalidates this conclusion. 
 It is perfectly true that there is, and must be, a division 
 of labour. We cannot all be experts, any more than 
 there can be a human organism which is all brain ; 
 but it is just as true that the same life must permeate 
 and vitalize every one of the organs, or there will be, 
 not a single organic unity, but a mere assemblage of 
 heterogeneous parts. The analogy will therefore lead 
 us to maintain, that, diverse as are the functions of 
 the layman and the expert in the social organism, it is 
 the same universal reason which is present in both ; the 
 only difference being, that in the former it is developed, 
 while in the latter it is to a large extent only implicit. 
 And similarly, when it is argued that, as organic, the 
 human race grows in experience, and that " the long 
 experience of the race is to a great extent the 
 basis of the authority of the educated over the unedu- 
 cated," we gladly assent ; only adding, that the 
 " authority " thus resulting is due to the gradual 
 development in the race of that rationality which 
 constitutes in its self-conscious form the distinctive 
 characteristic of man among all the beings known 
 to us. We have " experience " at all, only because 
 through the whole history of our race the same 
 identical principle has been at work, embodying itself 
 in language, customs, laws, and institutions, and in the 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 35 
 
 creation of knowledge, art, and religion ; and wherever 
 we discover the inadequacy of the conceptions by 
 means of which order and system have been partially 
 introduced into human life, the impulse to accept 
 nothing that is not perfectly rational compels us to 
 seek for more adequate conceptions. The exponents 
 of " authority " may paint in the most vivid colours the 
 danger of spiritual shipwreck from the disintegrating 
 power of unchecked reason, but the process of transmu- 
 tation goes on. As Dante tells us : 
 
 " Well I perceive that never sated is 
 Our intellect unless the Truth illumine it. 
 Beyond which nothing true expands itself. 
 
 Therefore springs up, in fashion of a shoot, 
 Doubt at the foot of truth ; and this is nature 
 Which to the top from height to height impels us." ^ 
 
 The principle that only the Truth can permanently 
 satisfy a rational being is especially apparent in the 
 sphere of religion. Men of religious genius, we are 
 told, are endowed with a super-sensitive " conscience," 
 which reveals to them in an intuitive or direct way the 
 reality of God. Without stopping to enquire whether 
 *' conscience " is the only guarantee of the divine, we 
 may admit that at least a complete idea of God is 
 impossible without the aid of the moral consciousness. 
 And it is true that there are men whose spiritual insight 
 is so swift and sure that it seems like a gift of nature. 
 They do not slowly and laboriously move from point to 
 point, making their footing secure as they advance, but 
 seem rather to rise by a bound into the empyrean, and 
 to dwell permanently in an atmosphere so rare that 
 others can only breathe it in their best moments. But, 
 while only the finer spirits of our race habitually live 
 
 ^ Divina Commedia, Paradiso^ 123-132 (Longfellow's translation). 
 
36 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 consciously in the Eternal, all men are capable of the 
 same experience, and without it they would not be 
 the self-conscious and rational beings that they are. 
 Men of religious genius, therefore, but express in a 
 vivid and convincing way what others only discern 
 when the leaden weight of custom is lifted, and for a 
 moment they " see things clear as Gods do." The 
 " authority " of the man of genius flows purely from 
 his higher insight, and is recognized by others in whom 
 it is repeated in a less intense form. The ordinary 
 man is not a blind follower of the religious pioneer ; or, 
 at least so far as he is so, he does not participate in the 
 spirit of religion. The truth of Christianity cannot be 
 established by an appeal to any authority other than 
 the response of man's spirit, and if it is not in its 
 essence a revelation of the very nature of the Infinite, 
 all attempts to perpetuate it must end in failure. So 
 far, therefore, as the Church embodies this revelation in 
 her teaching, she may confidently count on the response 
 of the rational spirit of man to it ; but that response 
 would be not less certain were the Church to discard it 
 and teach the exact opposite. No authority can make 
 falsehood truth or evil good. That which contradicts 
 ■the eternal nature of things cannot be made true, that 
 which is in opposition to morality cannot be made 
 obligatory, even by the fiat of omnipotence, much less 
 by the imprimatur of a fallible organization. There is, 
 therefore, nothing in the so-called " authority " of the 
 religious reformer to sanction the inference that the 
 Church, or any other body of men, is the sole guide 
 and guardian of the spiritual interests of humanity. 
 The individual may indeed enter into the heritage won 
 for him by the choice religious spirits of the race, but 
 only because in himself he can verify the truth which 
 they have first brought to clear consciousness. The 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 37 
 
 whole world may join together in a conspiracy to call 
 truth falsehood, and evil good, and the individual may 
 yet withstand its " authority," conscious that in himself 
 he has a witness that cannot be silenced. But, in truth, 
 except in the mouth of the rhetorician, there never has 
 been a case of " Athanasius against the world." The 
 new principle advocated by the religious reformer is 
 never an absolute negation of the old, but rather the 
 old freed from its obscurity and limitations, and become 
 clearly conscious of itself. Christianity effected a revo- 
 lution in the whole conception of the world, but, as its 
 Founder Himself has told us, it is not the destruction of 
 what it superseded, but its fulfilment ; it did not break 
 up the spiritual organism in which man had dwelt for 
 centuries, but merely poured into it new streams of life 
 and energy. 
 
 From what has been said, the true view of the 
 authority of the Church may be readily inferred. In 
 the technical sense " The Church " has come to mean 
 a particular organization which claims to be based 
 upon the acceptance of the Christian revelation. This 
 organization, as is held by the exponents of "authority," 
 blends the perceptions of men of religious genius with 
 the reflections of theologians, and " protects the revela- 
 tion from rationalistic assaults." Now, as we have 
 already seen, it is undoubtedly true that on the whole 
 the Church has been the consistent guardian of the 
 higher interests of man. It is also true that for the 
 discharge of this function an external organization, and 
 during the tutelage of humanity even an authoritative 
 body of doctrine, was a necessity. But these facts 
 by no means entitle us to say that the intuitions 
 and doctrines safeguarded by the Church derive their 
 authority from the Church. They are, as I have 
 contended, authoritative because they are true, not 
 
38 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 true because they are authoritative. And when the 
 claim to unique and absolute authority is made, not 
 merely for the Church as a whole — including all its 
 branches, Greek, Roman, and Protestant — but for a 
 single branch of it, we can only answer that it is 
 not given to any body of men to possess a monopoly 
 of truth. This is partly admitted by a Romish writer 
 whom I have already quoted, who, in a remarkable 
 essay, protests against " the idea long held in the 
 Catholic world, and still held by some, that Pro- 
 testantism and all heathen religions are the work 
 of the devil " ; adding, that " the good work of 
 Protestantism is self-evident, and all positive religious 
 conceptions, not only of Protestantism but of Heathen- 
 ism, have a relative value." No doubt the writer 
 implies that " the good work " of his own Church is 
 not "relative" but ^'absolute"; but it is hardly necessary 
 to say that this is but an amiable preconception, and 
 that the legitimate conclusion from his admissions is 
 that the whole truth can only be obtained by taking 
 into account the elements contributed by all sections 
 of the Christian Church. But, having gone so far, 
 we are logicc^lly compelled to go farther. If the 
 " authority " of the Church universal lies solely and 
 entirely in the truth which it contains, we must be 
 prepared to admit that the ideal Church has a far 
 wider sweep than the whole visible Church of our 
 day, or even the whole visible Church in the com- 
 pleteness of its historical evolution. Whatever makes 
 for the higher life, whether it is sheltered by the 
 visible Church or not, has the self-evidencing authority 
 of Truth. Moreover, the true Church is the Church 
 as in idea it is, the Church in the plenitude of its 
 spiritual power, or as it will be " when the years 
 have passed away " ; in other words, it is the divine 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 39 
 
 spirit immanent in humanity and progressively working 
 itself out to completion. In this sense of the term, 
 the Church is the vicegerent of God, but only because 
 it is the conscious realization of God in the soul of 
 man. It is therefore s, mistake to think of the 
 Church as externally controlling the free movement 
 of humanity, and prescribing fixed limits within which 
 the mind of man must move. There are no limits 
 but those which the divine spirit working in man 
 imposes upon itself No man, and no body of men, 
 is wise enough to tell in advance by what strange 
 and apparently devious paths reason will work out 
 its own salvation. Such movements as Gnosticism and 
 Neoplatonism in the early centuries of the Christian 
 era, Dualism and Mysticism in the middle ages, and 
 Agnosticism in our own day, are really indispensable 
 steps in the process by which the mind of man rises 
 to a comprehension of the world, the self, and God. 
 It would not be difficult to show that these and 
 other movements, antagonistic to truth as they ap- 
 parently are, have really contributed to its fuller 
 comprehension. As Emerson says : 
 
 One accent of the Holy Ghost 
 A careless world hath never lost. 
 
 If it is asked how such a view can be reconciled 
 with the fact that, but for the protecting care of the 
 Church, the Christian religion must long ago have 
 succumbed to the assaults of rationalism, my answer 
 is, that not even the protection of the Church would 
 have saved Christianity from destruction had it not been 
 based on the Truth, and that, if it does rest upon this 
 eternal foundation, we may apply to it in a much truer 
 than its original sense, the great word of Stoicism : 
 
 Si fractus illabatur orbis 
 impavidum ferient ruinae : 
 
40 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 it will retain its serenity in the shock and ruin of 
 a world. 
 
 If we follow out the implications of the theory 
 of development on the basis of authority, as held 
 by Newman and his recent followers, it is obvious 
 that it provides a way of escape from the older view 
 of the literal accuracy of the sacred writings. These 
 are held to be but the records of early religious 
 experience or belief, and though there is '* a deposit 
 of faith," as Newman calls it, the form in which 
 Christianity originally appeared belongs to the transient 
 element, while its essence is eternal, and receives con- 
 tinuous definition in the development of Christian faith 
 and doctrine. Obviously, anyone who adopts this 
 attitude will have no difficulty in accepting the most 
 drastic results of modern biblical criticism, confident 
 at once in the absolute truth of the primitive revelation 
 and in the certainty with which it is preserved from 
 pollution by the fostering care of an infallible Church. 
 By no writer of our day has this doctrine been more 
 boldly and persuasively advocated than by Abbe Loisy 
 in his UEvangile et VEglise. 
 
 Religion, our author tells us, is subject to the 
 universal law of all things — the law of growth, 
 development, change. The Monotheism of the Old 
 Testament, while it is in essence identical with that 
 of the New, differs in being less developed. And, 
 just as the Jahveh of the old canticles and legends 
 differs very widely from the God of Justice revealed 
 by the Prophets, so the formulas of our day are 
 not in all points identical with those of St. Paul 
 or St. Augustine. As a matter of fact, Jesus 
 announced the immediate approach of " The Kingdom 
 of Heaven," which must not be conceived merely as 
 a state of holiness or union with God, but as a 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 41 
 
 joyous and happy life on earth, in which the physical 
 and moral nature of mar# should be developed to the 
 full. In this apocalyptic sense it was understood by 
 His immediate followers. Now, men who are looking 
 forward to an awful and universal catastrophe, to 
 come upon the world in their own day, cannot stop 
 to lay down rules for the guidance of the ages 
 which in their belief will never follow. Hence, to 
 attribute to Jesus a deliberate system of social 
 organization is as false historically as it would be 
 to assign to Solomon the authorship of the Proverbs. 
 The truth is, that the New Testament, like the Old, 
 is permeated by a conception of the universe and 
 of history which has little in common with ours. 
 And this is true not only of the teachings which 
 fall within the intellectual sphere, but of those which 
 pertain to the religious domain as well. Our notion 
 of God and His goodness, our view of the Atone- 
 ment, and in general the whole body of doctrine 
 dealing with Christology, Man, and the Church, are 
 not truths dropped from heaven and hoarded up by 
 religious tradition in the exact form in which they 
 first appeared. No limit can be set to the process 
 by which the traditional formulas are subjected to 
 a never-ending interpretation, in which the letter which 
 killeth is regulated by the spirit that giveth life. 
 Nor is rigid unchangeability at all essential to the 
 authority of belief, or compatible with the nature of 
 the human intellect. For no everlasting edifice can 
 be built up with the elements of human thought. 
 Truth is changeless, but not its image as reflected 
 in the uneven mirror of our minds. Often the 
 formation and growth of dogma has been ruled by 
 the most halting logic, as when the Fathers and 
 theologians of the Church sought to prove the 
 
42 PHILOSOPHIGAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 doctrine of the Trinity by an untenable interpretation 
 of the words of Genesis : " Let us make man in our 
 image, after our likeness." But, to the historian who 
 looks upon the reasons assigned in support of a belief as 
 a sign of its vitality, rather than as the veritable ground 
 of its origin, such a self-mockery of logic is irrelevant. 
 In the domain of things religious and moral, the 
 striving towards the better outruns the arguments 
 adduced in favour of it. What alone is important 
 is that living faith which mocks at the logic 
 employed in its defence, and turns towards the 
 unchangeable Truth athwart the inadequate and 
 therefore perpetually changing formulas in which it 
 is sought to be confined.^ 
 
 In this remarkable correction and application of 
 Newman's theory of development, we can see the 
 doctrine of authority in process of accomplishing its 
 own euthanasia. It is true that the contrast is still 
 retained between the Truth as it is for us, and Truth 
 as it is in itself; between the unchangeability of the 
 original revelation and the varying forms in which it 
 is intellectually formulated from age to age; but, apart 
 from this saving reservation, there is nothing to dis- 
 tinguish the position of Abb6 Loisy from that of the 
 most pronounced advocate of a rational Christianity. 
 Development is for him a real evolution, and not, as 
 with Newman, the mere enlargement of a primitive 
 germ ; though, no doubt, he conceives of it as in no way 
 affecting the essence or validity of the original revelation. 
 On the other hand, he expresses the strongest objection 
 to the view of such writers as Harnack and Sabatier, 
 who seek to reduce religion to its simplest elements by 
 
 ^C/. the article on "The Abb^ Loisy and the Catholic Reform Move- 
 ment" in the Contemporary R&view for March, 1903, signed "Voces 
 Catholicae." 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 43 
 
 maintaining that the whole history of dogma, however 
 necessary it may be to the practical triumph of Christi- 
 anity over opposing forces, is a perversion of its original 
 simplicity. Such a view, discarding as it does the 
 regulative function of the Church, and conceiving of 
 religion purely as a condition of the individual soul, 
 Abbe Loisy could not possibly accept. The " primitive 
 Christianity " of these writers is, in his view, a fiction of 
 their own creation, invented as a support for their 
 subjective view of religion, but in palpable contradiction 
 to the Christianity of Jesus and His immediate followers. 
 A candid examination of the records proves beyond 
 doubt, as he contends, that the Founder of Christianity, 
 though He did not put forward a system of doctrine, 
 had perfectly definite beliefs, not merely in regard to 
 the Fatherhood of God, but in regard to men's duty, in 
 prospect of the approaching end of the world, and to 
 many other things besides ; and it is the primary task 
 of the historian to set forth the ideas of the Saviour 
 as they were manifested in words and deeds, not to 
 recast them in view of a modern theory of religion. 
 Starting with the facts as we find them in the New 
 Testament, it cannot be doubted, as he contends, that 
 the whole process by which Christian doctrine has been 
 developed is essential to the life and energy of the 
 Christian religion. Step by step that religion has 
 shown its power of incorporating all the elements of 
 truth contained in ancient philosophy and modern 
 science, and of informing them with its own spirit. 
 
 The contention of Abb6 Loisy, that the history of 
 dogma is essential to the unfolding of all that is 
 contained in the original principle of Christianity, 
 must be regarded as an important truth to which 
 the views of Harnack and Sabatier fail to do justice; 
 though Abb^ Loisy, on his part, can hardly be said 
 
44 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 to distinguish sufficiently between the " winged words " 
 in which the Master expresses the very soul of all 
 religion, and those sayings which are obviously of 
 only temporary interest ; and, as is only natural in 
 a son of the Church, he fails to allow due weight to 
 that aspect of religion to which Harnack and Sabatier, 
 with a kind of exaggerated Protestantism, tend to 
 attach exclusive value.^ In a complete view of religion, 
 as I have already suggested, the personal and the 
 universal aspects must each receive due weight ; for, if 
 it is true that a religion which is not founded upon 
 truth is a contradiction in terms, it is not the less true, 
 and for the individual man of much greater importance, 
 that it is also a life. The truth, however, seems to me 
 to be that the exaggerated emphasis placed by Abb6 
 Loisy on doctrine, results in the end in the same defect 
 as that of which he accuses his opponents. For, though 
 Harnack seeks to reduce Christianity to a simple faith 
 in the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man, 
 while his critic insists that it was from the first a 
 complex body of truth, if not of doctrine; the former 
 removes the rational basis of faith by denying that it 
 admits of intellectual comprehension, while the latter, 
 though he affirms that it can be grasped by the 
 intelligence, denies that the forms of intelligence are 
 competent to comprehend Truth as it is in itself. 
 Thus both thinkers in the end agree in holding that 
 faith is something inexplicable, or at least something 
 so simple as to be beyond the reach of clear definition. 
 Nor is the reason for this meeting of extremes far to 
 seek. Like other Ritschlians, Harnack denies that the 
 Infinite is comprehensible in itself, and therefore he is 
 forced to deny the absolute value of all reflection upon 
 the content of religion, and to fall back upon an 
 
 ^ Harnack's view is discussed more fully in Lecture Seventh. 
 
THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA 45 
 
 immediate faith in God and goodness as the be-all and 
 end-all of religion ; while Abb6 Loisy, like Newman, 
 refuses to admit that man by the exercise of his reason 
 can rise to the knowledge of God, and, therefore, falling 
 back upon the authority of the Church to guarantee 
 what is beyond the reach of reason, he is ultimately 
 driven to the conception of faith as a belief in that 
 which is for reason incomprehensible. There is no 
 escape, as I believe, from the opposite inadequacies 
 of these two exponents of the inconceivable but the 
 clear recognition, that the only valid defence of the 
 Christian religion must consist in showing that, while 
 its history is not a merely superficial process which 
 leaves its primitive germ untouched, but a genuine 
 development, in which a living faith has come to ever 
 clearer self-consciousness, its principle is indestructible, 
 because it is the only rational interpretation of the 
 facts of our experience in their totality. A great 
 writer has said that " in the religious consciousness all 
 nations realize that they possess the truth ; and they 
 have therefore always found in their religion the secret 
 of true dignity and peace. ... In this pure aether 
 man beholds his own existence in a transfigured 
 reflection, in which all the harsh lights and colours 
 and shadows of the everyday world are softened into 
 eternal peace under the beams of a spiritual sun."^ 
 Such a peace, as I believe, can be found neither by 
 falling back upon a simple nucleus of faith, which does 
 little to satisfy the obstinate questionings of the 
 intellect, nor in the elusive attempt to find rest in an 
 external authority, but only by the exhaustion of 
 scepticism and pessimism. 
 
 ^ Hegel's Geschichte der Religion^ i. 5. 
 
LECTURE THIRD 
 
 SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 
 
 In my last lecture I finished the consideration of the 
 principle of authority, as the supposed basis of 
 doctrine. Recent writers, as we saw, follow the lead 
 of Newman in endeavouring to reconcile the claims 
 of an infallible Church with the changes through 
 which its creed has undoubtedly passed ; maintaining 
 that the function of authority is, not to originate or 
 even to develop religious truths, but to select, among 
 the new ideas advanced by men of religious genius, 
 those which are in accordance with the original 
 revelation. Admitting that there has been a real 
 evolution of doctrine, and in this respect occupying a 
 more tenable position than Newman, these thinkers 
 employ the idea of the organic unity of man in 
 support of their view of authority ; arguing (i) that 
 no one can claim the right to set up his individual 
 opinion against the collective experience of the race 
 in the region of science and history ; (2) that the 
 intuitions and reflections of men of religious genius 
 carry with them a peculiar authority; and (3) that 
 the Church combines the perceptions of its saints 
 with the conceptions of its theologians, and protects 
 the truth from rationalistic assaults. While admitting 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 47 
 
 « 
 
 that the Church has done an invaluable service in 
 the past, it was pointed out that it has also at times 
 retarded progress, and therefore cannot be fairly- 
 claimed as the only custodian of truth. No doubt 
 it has on the whole resisted one-sided views ; but the 
 real explanation of this fact is, that, like all the 
 institutions in which man expresses himself, the Church 
 is an embodiment, though not a perfect embodiment, 
 of reason, and only in so far as this is the case has 
 it any authority. Nor does the assimilation of man- 
 kind to an organism lend any countenance to the 
 doctrine of authority ; the analogy rather confirms 
 the view, that, just as we accept the conclusions of 
 the scientific expert because we believe them to have 
 a rational foundation, and endorse the higher intui- 
 tions of the religious genius because they appeal to 
 our own awakened consciousness ; so the only claim 
 of the Church to our allegiance is the degree in 
 which it stands for the truth. It follows that no 
 Church can justly claim to be the only guardian of 
 the spiritual interests of humanity ; and, in fact, that 
 the ideal Church cannot be confined within any 
 given organization, but operates through all the 
 channels by which the divine spirit immanent in man 
 diffuses itself This is almost explicitly recognized by 
 Abbd Loisy, who has no difficulty in accepting the 
 results of recent science, including its application to 
 the historical criticism of the sacred writings ; main- 
 taining that, while truth is changeless, human beliefs 
 undergo continual metamorphosis. In thus insisting 
 upon the development of doctrine as essential to the 
 comprehension of the principle of Christianity, Abb6 
 Loisy accentuates an important aspect of truth ; but 
 he fails to allow proper weight to that aspect of truth 
 to which thinkers like Harnack and Sabatier attach 
 
48 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 almost exaggerated importance, namely, the response 
 of the individual soul. A complete view of religion 
 involves the due recognition of both aspects ; main- 
 taining that, as reason informs the religious life of 
 the individual, so it is capable of being embodied in 
 an articulated system. 
 
 The conclusion to which we have been led obviously 
 compels us, while doing justice to the long experience 
 of the race, to discard all appeals to external authority, 
 and to claim assent for nothing that cannot be shown 
 to be a valid interpretation of that experience. Now, 
 it cannot be denied that the burden thus thrust upon 
 us is a heavy one ; so heavy, indeed, that many 
 thinkers of repute tell us that it is beyond the limited 
 strength of man to bear. " Never before," says Mr. 
 Goldwin Smith, " has there been such a crisis in the 
 history of belief. Never before has man, enlightened 
 as he now is by science, faced with a free mind the 
 problem of his origin and destiny." Nor does the 
 writer think that any aid can come from philosophy. 
 " A metaphysical book, it seems, has reached its eighth 
 edition. This shows that a number of inquirers are 
 still upon that track. Is there any hope in that 
 direction ? Is it possible that mental introspection 
 should lead us to objective truth ? Might we not as 
 well look for scientific fact in the structure of a 
 scientific instrument, as for objective truth in the 
 structure of the mind ? Intellects of the highest 
 order have been devoted to metaphysic ; and with 
 what result? From the Greek philosophers to the 
 schoolmen, from the schoolmen to the Germans, 
 system succeeds system, without progress or practical 
 outcome. Even the reputed discoveries of Berkeley 
 have borne no practical fruit, and Hegel is already 
 as dead as Pythagoras. Meantime, genuine science 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 49 
 
 wins a series of practical triumphs and is advanced 
 even by practical errors. The datum assumed by 
 metaphysic throughout is that reality must correspond 
 to conception. No such assumption is involved in 
 our belief in moral responsibility, or other spiritual 
 phenomena of human nature, which are facts of 
 mental experience and observation, though not of 
 bodily sense." ^ 
 
 We have here the forcible expression of a view 
 that is current in some form or other among many 
 representatives of literature, art, and science ; a view 
 which, as I hope to show, is at bottom superficial 
 and self-contradictory. Its significance lies mainly in 
 the fact that, with the collapse of traditional ideas, 
 the whole edifice of religion, within which for cen- 
 turies men have dwelt secure, seems to have crashed 
 down, and they can only sit sadly among the ruins, 
 vainly trying to comfort themselves with the belief 
 that at least morality is safe. I say "vainly," for 
 once persuade men that " objective truth " is beyond 
 their reach, and it will not be long before they draw 
 the only logical inference, that even " moral respon- 
 sibility" is a fiction. Had the distinguished writer 
 from whom I have quoted clearly seen the conse- 
 quences of his rejection of all aid from philosophy — 
 which, after all, is but reflection made systematic and 
 comprehensive — perhaps he would have hesitated to 
 condemn it so unreservedly. Of this, however, I am not 
 sure, for his condemnation seems to be based upon the 
 false opposition of introspection and observation — an 
 opposition which no metaphysician would now admit 
 to be valid, any more than he would accept the view 
 of George Henry Lewes, which the writer endorses, 
 that the history of philosophy is but a record of the 
 
 ^ Goldwin Smith, In Quest of Light, p. 46. 
 D 
 
so PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 abortive efforts of men of the first rank to solve an 
 insoluble problem — a view which, among other defects, 
 involves the incredible hypothesis that rational beings 
 have persistently wasted their strength on an intrin- 
 sically irrational task. That a writer who has made for 
 himself a name as a historian and publicist should 
 labour under such extraordinary misconceptions is a 
 sufficient justification, if any were needed, of the 
 attempt to show that the reconstruction of religious 
 belief on the basis of reason is not an insoluble pro- 
 blem. As the first step towards the solution of that 
 problem, I shall begin with a short statement and 
 criticism of the philosophy of Immanuel Kant, who, 
 more than any other thinker, has determined the course 
 of speculation for over a century. This was largely 
 due to the courage with which he faced the apparently 
 irreconcilable claims of the head and the heart, doing 
 full justice to the inviolability of natural law, and 
 yet refusing to surrender that inextinguishable belief 
 in a spiritual world which has survived the heaviest 
 onslaughts. 
 
 From the sixteenth century till the age of Kant, 
 there had been very marked progress in the region of 
 physical science as well as in the wider movements of 
 philosophy and theology. The progress in science had 
 consisted in the ever clearer apprehension of the reign 
 of law, as exhibited in instance after instance, and the 
 consequent denial of all breaks in the continuity of 
 natural processes, by the intrusion into the realm of 
 nature of any supernatural agency. The growth of this 
 conviction, the conviction of the inviolability of natural 
 law, raised a peculiar difficulty when men came to con- 
 sider its bearing upon their own life. If all other 
 things are under the dominion of natural law, is it 
 not an arbitrary proceeding, showing prejudice rather 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 51 
 
 than clear thought, to exempt man from the sway of 
 law as if he were a sort of lusus naturae ? The diffi- 
 culty had been increased by the change in the general 
 poir^t of view produced by the Copernican astronomy, 
 the revival of learning, and the discovery of the new 
 world. The Ptolemaic cosmogony had for centuries 
 ruled the minds of men, for reasons that are not. diffi- 
 cult to understand. It could apparently appeal to the 
 testimony of facts : it agreed with the biblical cosmo- 
 logy: it cohered with the tendency of thought in all 
 ages to conceive of the Divine as raised above the 
 world, with its perpetual process of birth and death, its 
 struggle between evil and good, its strange admixture 
 of beauty and ugliness. We must also remember that, 
 while the mind of man is ever seeking for complete 
 unity, and therefore can never be satisfied with any- 
 thing short of a perfect reconciliation of his higher 
 beliefs with his scientific knowledge, there is at certain 
 periods, and in certain persons, a tendency to place 
 exaggerated emphasis on one or other of these aspects. 
 Now, the long struggle of the middle ages was a period 
 when the barbarism of the Teutonic, and the worldli- 
 ness of the Latin, races had to be modified by the 
 higher impulse of religious faith ; and it was only 
 natural that an antagonism, which still survives in a 
 modified way— the antagonism between the secular and 
 the sacred — should then assume an acute form, and that 
 whatever seemed to be inconsistent with the letter of 
 religion should be branded as impious. Neverthe- 
 less, reason was not entirely without a witness. The 
 scholastic philosophy, though it was primarily employed 
 in the service of an authoritative creed, unconsciously 
 prepared the way for the new cosmogony of Copernicus. 
 The human mind cannot be long employed even upon 
 dogmas, the truth of which it does not venture to doubt 
 
52 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 without finding itself confronted with difficulties which 
 it is unable to solve. By accustoming the mind to see 
 the objections which might be raised to what at first 
 sight seemed beyond doubt, Scholasticism prepared the 
 way for the rejection of that sensuous view of the 
 cosmos on which ancient and mediaeval astronomy was 
 based. And men's minds were more ready to accept 
 the new cosmogony, because such thinkers as Nicolaus 
 Cusanus and Bernardino Telesio had already suggested 
 doubts of the traditional view on general philosophical 
 grounds. The former argued that "the world can 
 have neither centre nor circumference, for it could only 
 have these in relation to something external, by which 
 it is limited, and would thus not be the whole world." 
 The cosmos has, therefore, no definite figure. " Every 
 point in the world may, with equal right, be called the 
 centre, or be set in the periphery. And since the earth 
 does not stand at the absolute centre of the world, it 
 cannot be at rest." ^ Cusanus thus denied on general 
 grounds that the earth is the central point of the world, 
 though he did not teach that the earth moved round 
 the sun. In doing so he had dealt a severe blow to 
 the mediaeval cosmogony ; for, not only was the world 
 set spinning in space, but the sharp contrast between 
 the heavens and the earth was obliterated. Bernardino 
 Telesio, again, was the representative of a philosophy 
 that made a direct appeal to experience. His main 
 contention was, that there are two forces at work in 
 nature, which manifest themselves in two different 
 modes of motion. " These two principles work on 
 matter, which is never increased or decreased, but 
 which under their influence assumes the most widely 
 different forms, and which is everywhere uniform. 
 There is, therefore, no need to assume a distinction 
 
 ^ Hoffding's History of Modern Philosophy^ i. 90. 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 53 
 
 between heavenly and terrestrial matter."^ By the 
 labours of these two thinkers the traditional concep- 
 tion of the world was shaken ; but it was only by 
 the promulgation of the new cosmogony of Copernicus 
 that it fell into complete ruin. The earth was now 
 seen to have no claim to be at the centre of the 
 universe ; the exceptional character of the heavenly 
 bodies had disappeared ; an infinite horizon was dis- 
 closed; and henceforth the limited universe of mediaeval 
 thought had vanished away for ever. The modern 
 mind, pondering over these things, was forced to ask 
 how this new view of the universe affects the old faith. 
 If our earth is an infinitesimal speck in the universe, 
 can we any longer attribute to man that perfection 
 which the Hebrew psalmist expressed by saying that 
 he " is made a little lower than God " ? If, so far as 
 experience can tell us, all finite beings, from the lowest 
 to the highest, are continually losing their individuality 
 and giving place to new individuals — a law which 
 applies to man as well as to other beings — and if 
 there is no reason for supposing that, granting the 
 existence of other conscious beings, in other parts of 
 the universe, they are exempt from the same principle 
 of decay — since so far as we know all bodies in space 
 have the same fundamental constitution — must we not 
 conclude that the immortality of man is a fairy dream, 
 natural in the infancy of society, but now incredible ? 
 Nay, is there any longer reason to suppose that the 
 existence of God will withstand the shock of modern 
 mechanical explanations? When Laplace said that 
 the idea of God was a " hypothesis " for which he had 
 no need, did he not express the only logical result of 
 the new cosmogony ? Thus it would seem that if the 
 new conception of the universe has vastly enlarged our 
 
 '^IHd, i. 94. 
 
54 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 ideas-^if it has, in Mr. Balfour's phrase, " glutted our 
 imaginations with material infinities " — it has at the 
 same time given a tremendous shock to those beliefs 
 which we are so unwilling as men to surrender. 
 
 Now, Kant accepted the new cosmogony in its 
 entirety, and even made a further contribution to it 
 by propounding the nebular hypothesis ; and yet he 
 believed that he had discovered a way by which the 
 higher interests of man may be conserved. He first 
 asks whether the method and the principles of the 
 physical sciences, the validity of which, at least within 
 their own sphere, seems to be firmly established by 
 their success in explaining the facts of experience, are 
 the only method and principles by which truth can be 
 discovered. The method of the physical sciences is 
 observation and experiment, its results being reached 
 by a careful consideration of particular facts and by 
 inferences drawn from them. No doubt these sciences 
 tacitly assume certain conceptions, the truth of which 
 they make no attempt to prove ; but this is not 
 evident to the scientific man as such, and therefore he 
 naturally supposes that any other method of investiga- 
 tion than that which in his special region has yielded 
 such brilliant results, must be a false or a defective 
 method. He is therefore disposed to protest, and even 
 to sneer at, any a priori method, as he calls it, 
 z>, any method which goes beyond the interpretation 
 of particular facts. And if this is the method of the 
 special, sciences, its fundamental principle is that of 
 natural causation. The sole object of these sciences 
 is to discover the causal connections of particular 
 facts. It was therefore but natural, in the age of 
 Kant, when the physical sciences had achieved such 
 triumphant results, especially at the hands of Newton, 
 that there should be a strong tendency to interpret all 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 55 
 
 things in the light of the law of natural causation. 
 Now, when this law is extended to the life of man, it 
 seems as if there were no room for freedom. If man, 
 like other beings, is under the dominion of natural law, 
 how can we suppose that his acts proceed from himself 
 in any other sense than that in which we may speak of 
 the movements of an animal or even the fall of a stone 
 as spontaneous ? And if there is no law but natural 
 causation : if the whole sphere of reality is limited to 
 particular phenomena and their connection with one 
 another : is it not obvious that the ideas of God or of 
 any other supernatural being, together with the immor- 
 tality of man, must be mere fictions ? But when, by 
 what Carlyle calls " victorious analysis/' we have got 
 rid of human freedom and immortality, and of God, we 
 shall be forced to throw duty and morality after them. 
 If there is no real agency in man : if his acts are just 
 as much the result of certain external causes as any 
 other phenomenon in nature : then it is obviously absurd 
 to speak of what he ought or ought not to do, since 
 what in any given case he does is what he must do, and 
 cannot possibly help doing. With the disappearance 
 of the belief in moral obligation will also disappear the 
 belief in moral responsibility, at least for anyone who 
 thinks consistently. What a man does not do, what 
 does not proceed from himself, for that he cannot be 
 held responsible. Hence those who attempt to apply 
 to human action the same law as that which they apply 
 to other phenomena, when they are consistent (which 
 they seldom are), tell us that the whole question in 
 i-egard to human conduct is simply a question, not of 
 what men ought to do, but of what as a matter of fact 
 we find them doing. We may enquire, eg,^ into the 
 manner in which men behave under certain forms of 
 society, and we may trace the growth of what are called 
 
56 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 moral ideas from age to age ; but all this, while it 
 enables us to understand the natural history of man, 
 does not entitle us to speak of absolute right and 
 wrong, or in any strict sense of moral responsibility. 
 No doubt society, for its own protection, lays down 
 certain laws, and punishes those who violate them ; 
 but this does not mean that those laws are absolutely 
 right ; it only means that they are the necessary 
 instruments for the preservation of social order, and for 
 the security of life and property. 
 
 This whole mode of thought obviously raises a 
 problem of a most difficult character. It implies that 
 there is a fundamental antagonism between two ruling 
 ideas, which in a certain sense have made their influence 
 felt from the dawn of human history. On the one 
 hand, knowledge seems to be based on particular 
 experiences, and particular experiences seem to be 
 limited to the sensible and phenomenal ; while, on the 
 other hand, there is in man an aspiration after a higher 
 and better life, an aspiration which for centuries has 
 been bound up with the belief in human freedom, duty, 
 and moral responsibility. With the lucidity of philoso- 
 phical genius Kant saw, that unless the antagonism of 
 the natural and spiritual could be overcome, the whole 
 life of man was threatened with destruction. The 
 desire for definite knowledge is as strong in man as his 
 belief in the supersensible. He can surrender neither, 
 and yet his life must be in perpetual conflict and dis- 
 harmony with itself, unless he can find some means of 
 reconciling the one with the other. 
 
 This apparent opposition of necessity and freedom has 
 sometimes been sought to be solved by making the 
 things of nature absolutely different in kind from 
 spiritual beings. Thus it may be said that, while 
 inorganic things, and even the highest of the animals. 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 57 
 
 are absolutely subject to the law of mechanical causa- 
 tion, all their movements taking place in response to the 
 action upon them of the environment, man, on the 
 other hand, as a spiritual, self-conscious, and moral 
 being, is the originator of his own acts, and is therefore 
 free. This solution of the problem Kant refused to 
 accept To remove man in this way from the sphere 
 of natural law seemed to him to be a defiance of the 
 facts and to lead to the denial of all knowledge. So 
 far as we know ourselves, we do not find that our 
 desires and volitions are withdrawn from the influence 
 of external causes. When a man seeks to satisfy any 
 of his desires, is it not the case that the desire is excited 
 by the idea of some object, which presents itself to his 
 imagination as pleasurable ? Given the man's natural 
 susceptibility for certain objects rather than for others, 
 and the response which he makes, when placed mentally 
 in the presence of a given object, is just as fixed as the 
 movement of a stone under the influence of external 
 forces. Therefore, Kant maintains that, so far at least 
 as his whole sensitive nature is concerned, it cannot be 
 shown that man is peculiar in being exempted from the 
 law of mechanical causation. If you examine the series 
 of conscious states which occur in the case of any action, 
 you will find, as he contends, that every member of that 
 series follows in as unalterable a way as any series of 
 movements in an unconscious being. It would thus 
 seem that man, like every other being, acts simply as he 
 must act under the given conditions. But, if the desires 
 which act upon a man operate in the same fixed and 
 unchanging way as any other force of nature, how can 
 it possibly be shown that he is free ? For many years 
 this problem perplexed Kant, but at length he seemed 
 to himself to have found a way of solving it which 
 allowed the fullest weight to the laws of nature and yet 
 
58 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 preserved the independence and freedom of man. From 
 what has been said, it is plain that any attempt to weaken 
 or overthrow the inviolability of natural law could not 
 be endorsed by Kant ; and indeed it was his acceptance 
 of that law, as established by the discoveries of science, 
 and especially by the discoveries of Newton, that first 
 impressed upon him the importance of the problem. 
 But how can it be held, in any sense, that every change 
 in the world, including our own actions, takes place in 
 accordance with the law of mechanical causation, while 
 yet it is affirmed that man is free and self-determined ? 
 Perhaps, Kant answers, we shall be able to get at the 
 root of the matter, if we begin by asking why it is that 
 mathematics and physics have made such remarkable 
 progress, and are now universally regarded as estab- 
 lished sciences, while the systems which deal with the 
 supersensible, including the spiritual nature of man, are 
 apparently still as far as ever from the discovery of a 
 solid foundation. No doubt the representatives of these 
 sciences, when they have any theory at all, usually 
 describe their method as one of simple observation ; 
 but if we look more closely, we shall see that mathe- 
 matics and physics have not advanced by allowing 
 nature to act upon the mind, and Simply registering 
 the impressions thus received; on the contrary, progress 
 has been made by anticipating in the mind the meaning 
 of nature and then going to her and asking questions. 
 The mathematician does not simply find his triangles 
 and circles, but constructs them ; and the strange thing 
 is that these constructions, which seem to be made in 
 entire independence of nature, yet somehow or other 
 apply to nature ; so that the mathematician confidently 
 affirms, that his conclusions hold good always and 
 necessarily, no matter how sensible objects may 
 otherwise differ. Similarly, the physicist has made 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 59 
 
 advances by putting questions to nature, as when 
 Galileo proceeded to interrogate her by causing elastic 
 balls to roll down an inclined plane. All this suggests 
 to us that in some sense nature is the creation of the 
 human mind. This no doubt must seem at first sight 
 a preposterous view to take. How, it may be said, can 
 any man in his senses say that his mind makes nature ? 
 Does not all knowledge consist in apprehending things 
 as they are, not as we imagine them, or would like them 
 to be ? Kant's answer is to point out that it is a great 
 mistake to assume that nature exists, and would be 
 what it is, even if the whole activity of the intelligence 
 which grasps it were absent. If that were so, nature 
 for us would be npthing but the impressions arising 
 in us from moment to moment, and these would 
 never present to our minds even the appearance of 
 an orderly system of objects and events, spread 
 out in space, following one another in time, and 
 connected in fixed and unchanging ways. It is quite 
 true that the earliest phase of our experience as 
 individuals may be described as a mere chaos of 
 impressions of sense ; but anyone may see that a chaos 
 of impressions of sense is not what we mean by 
 " nature." Those impressions we do not " make " : they 
 are "given" to us ; but their interpretation as " objects," 
 or, what is the same thing, our knowledge of nature as 
 a system of " experiences," is due to the character of 
 our perceptive and intellectual faculties, which compel 
 us to present our perceptions as objects in space and 
 time, as belonging to a single system, and as connected 
 together in the unity of a single self-consciousness. 
 
 Perhaps we shall best understand what Kant means 
 by contrasting this new view of knowledge with 
 that of Hume. The explanation of causality given 
 by Hume reduces it to a mere habitual sequence 
 
6o PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 of impressions and copies of impressions. This 
 doctrine seemed to Kant to show that Hume had 
 not grasped the true principle of knowledge. If 
 Hume is right, it is obvious that there can be for 
 us no system of nature, because there are no universal 
 and necessary judgments. The result of Hume's theory 
 therefore is, not to explain knowledge, but to explain 
 it away. But to Kant it seemed perfectly certain 
 that the pure sciences at least, viz., pure mathematics 
 and pure physics, contain universal and necessary 
 judgments : judgments therefore which are true, not 
 merely at a particular time and in a particular place, 
 but at all times and in all places. What, then, he 
 asks, must be the character of our knowledge, if we 
 are to account for the fact that there are such 
 judgments? Mathematics obviously rests upon the 
 ideas of space and time, and these again are not 
 something which we can perceive by our senses. 
 From moment to moment there arise in us different 
 sensations, but the perception of external objects or 
 of internal events is not possible apart from space 
 and time, and these are not given in sensation, but 
 are pre-supposed as conditions without which we 
 should have no consciousness of sensible objects. 
 As permanent elements pre-supposed in all our 
 experience, they are involved in all our experience 
 of objects, and they could not be so involved, as 
 Kant argues, were they not the inalienable forms 
 bound up with the very existence of our perceptive 
 faculty. That being so, the objects of our experience 
 can have no existence except within our experience. 
 No doubt our impressions of sense are due to things 
 that exist independently of our knowledge, but these 
 must not be identified with the objects of our 
 experience. The objects of our perception exist 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 6i 
 
 nowhere but for the percipient subject. And the 
 same thing is true of these objects, viewed as 
 connected together in the system of experience. The 
 work of so connecting them is done by the under- 
 standing ; which, like perception, has its own fixed 
 and unchanging constitution, — a constitution which is 
 expressed in the forms of thought that Kant calls the 
 "categories." To the existence of " nature" — understand- 
 ing by this " the cosmos of experience " — our faculties of 
 knowledge are therefore indispensable, for " nature " is 
 no independent thing — no reality existing apart from us 
 — but that system of experiences which is constituted 
 by our minds as combining the elements of perception 
 into an ordered whole. It is thus made clear to us 
 why the man of science assumes that nature is subject 
 to inviolable law. It is so subject, because nature 
 is itself constituted by our minds, which by their 
 very character order all our experiences under those 
 forms of perception and thought which belong to us 
 as men. 
 
 But, having thus confirmed the preconception of 
 the sciences, that nature is an unchanging > system, 
 it seems as if we had only made any solution of 
 the problem of freedom more hopeless than ever. 
 At this point Kant gives the discussion a subtle 
 and unexpected turn. What is this inviolable system 
 of nature, but the product of our own activity as 
 conscious beings? As such is it not obvious that 
 it cannot be used as an engine for the destruction 
 of a being without which it would not exist at all ? 
 If the system of nature existed apart from any 
 activity on our part, no doubt it would be impossible 
 to make room for any self-activity in knowledge ; 
 but as it has no existence anywhere but in our 
 consciousness, it cannot destroy the very activity 
 
62 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 without which it would have no existence. Our 
 minds, it is true, do not contribute the sensible differ- 
 ences of things, but they do supply the bonds which con- 
 nect those differences into the unity of self-consciousness. 
 Thus it is at once suggested to us, that for the mind 
 which imposes them they cannot be really bonds. 
 Necessity can only mean dependence upon something 
 foreign, whereas the law of natural causation is no 
 foreign yoke to which the human mind must submit, 
 but its own law. And this idea receives strong 
 confirmation when we see the relation of the system 
 of nature to the idea of absolute reality. If the 
 objects of our experience were things in themselves, 
 no doubt it would be impossible for us to maintain 
 that man in his true nature is free from the law 
 of external necessity. For, if things as they really 
 exist are what we are compelled to represent them 
 as being, all things, including our own actions, must 
 be subject to the law of natural causation, and 
 therefore we can by no possibility be free. But 
 ultimate reality on the one hand, and nature, or 
 the system of our experience on the other hand, 
 are by no means the same, as may readily be seen 
 when we contrast what we know with what reason 
 demands. Whatever else may be said of it, ultimate 
 reality must be a whole, a unity ; for beyond 
 it there can be nothing. That is the plain and 
 simple demand which reason makes upon anything 
 that claims to be absolutely real. Is the system 
 of nature, then, a whole ? Is it a closed sphere, 
 beyond which nothing else can be? or does it bear 
 on its face the marks of finitude and limitation ? 
 That it is not a whole is at once apparent the 
 moment we compare it with our idea of a whole. 
 Take it, e.g.y from the point of view of Time. If 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 63 
 
 the world-events constitute an absolute totality, then 
 we must hold, either that the world has existed from 
 all eternity, or that it began to be at a certain moment 
 of time. Now, no matter which of these suppositions we 
 adopt, it may at once be shown that it is incompatible 
 with the nature of our experience. If the world never 
 began to be, then an eternity must have elapsed up to 
 any given point of time — say, the present moment ; 
 and, by the very form of our experience, we can only 
 present before our minds events in time by passing in 
 imaginatidn from the one event back to the other, But, 
 obviously, an infinite series of moments of time will 
 require an eternity to sum them up. Hence, an 
 infinite series of moments of time is an impossible 
 experience ; and, consequently, the supposition that 
 the world is eternal is incompatible with the condi- 
 tions of our experience. Now, if the world is not 
 eternal, we are thrown back on the other horn of the 
 dilemma, viz., that the world began at a certain point of 
 time. But this alternative is just as incompatible with 
 experience as the other. If the world began to be at 
 a certain moment of time, then prior to that moment 
 there was nothing but blank, empty time. Now, 
 nothing can begin to be unless there is some reason 
 for its beginning to be. But there is nothing in empty 
 time to explain why anything should begin to be. 
 Consequently, the supposition that the world began 
 to be at a certain moment of time conflicts with the 
 very conditions of our experience. We can experience 
 nothing which absolutely begins to be : all the things 
 that we experience are changes which presuppose some- 
 thing prior on which they depend. Now, what is to 
 be inferred from this peculiar fact, that we can neither 
 experience, or rather can neither conceive the possibility 
 of experiencing, the eternity of the world, nor the 
 
64 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 absolute beginning of the world? Surely our reason 
 cannot compel us to adopt either of two contradictory 
 propositions. We cannot say that the world is eternal, 
 because that seems incompatible with the conditions of 
 our knowledge : we cannot say that the world abso- 
 lutely began to be, for that contradicts the principle of 
 causality. But, on the other hand, we cannot accept 
 a flat contradiction. How, then, are we to escape from 
 the dilemma? Kant's answer is: we escape from it 
 the moment we perceive that Time is merely a form of 
 our experience. When we speak of absolute reality, 
 there is no question as to whether it absolutely began 
 to be or never began to be, because there is no ques- 
 tion of Time at all. The reason that our experience 
 is never a complete whole arises from the peculiar 
 character of Time. Time is an unending series, and 
 there is no possibility of summing up an unending 
 series. Whatever, then, is represented as in time is 
 thereby precluded from being a whole. And as the 
 same thing is true of space, the conclusion we had 
 already reached, that space and time are merely the 
 forms of our perception, is confirmed by the insoluble 
 contradictions into which we fall when we assume space 
 and time to be characteristics of ultimate reality. And 
 the same thing applies to the principle of causality itself. 
 Causality as a principle of experience we have already 
 seen to involve a reference to time. What it asserts is, 
 that all successive events as in time imply a fixed order 
 of connection, such that A must precede and B follow. 
 Now this principle will clearly never give us totality : 
 for, since it implies that an effect had a precedent 
 cause, while this cause again is itself an effect having 
 another prior cause, and so on to infinity, it follows 
 that a totality as a series of causes is an impossible 
 experience. In short, the fact that the principle of 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 65 
 
 causality is specified or limited to time, involves that it 
 can never give us a completely rounded system of 
 reality ; the most that it can do is to suggest the 
 existence of a reality which it is itself unable to 
 characterize. 
 
 We are now in a better position to understand how 
 Kant solves the apparent contradiction of necessity and 
 freedom. Man seems to be bound in the chains of 
 necessity, because, like other objects of experience, 
 his acts seem to proceed from a cause external to 
 himself But Kant has shown, as he believes, that 
 the principle of causality is itself in a sense the crea- 
 tion of the human mind, and hence that there must 
 be a point of view from which man can be shown to be 
 free from the bonds of merely external causation. For, 
 the totality of the objects of experience, or the system 
 of nature, is after all phenomenal. The phenomenal 
 character of all the objects of our knowledge is clearly 
 indicated by the fact that our experience can never be 
 an absolute whole. Even the category of causality, so 
 far as it is specified and thereby limited by its relation 
 to events in time, does not enable us to determine the 
 world as a complete whole. The process by which we 
 characterize and connect events in time is unending; 
 which shows that the pure conception of causality Is 
 not really satisfied by the objects that fall within the 
 range of our knowledge. The truth is, that, by follow- 
 ing events back along the chain of temporal causation, 
 we do not even in the end reach what can in the strict 
 sense be called a cause ; for a cause, if it is to be com- 
 pletely explanatory of an effect, cannot itself be an 
 effect dependent upon a prior cause. Our intelligence 
 demands a cause that is not itself an effect, or, in 
 other words, a self-cause or a self-active being. Does 
 such a cause actually exist ? Obviously we shall never 
 
66 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 find a cause of this kind — a cause that absolutely origi- 
 nates or initiates effects — within the region of sensible 
 experience ; for, as we have seen, the conditions of 
 sensible experience are such that no object is known 
 to undergo any change without being acted upon by 
 an object external to it. But a self-active cause must 
 be acted upon purely by itself, not by any other being. 
 It follows that a self-active cause existing in time is a 
 contradiction in terms. This conclusion has been 
 forced upon us by the abortive character of the 
 attempt to find a real cause within the realm of sen- 
 sible experience. We can pass from effect to cause, 
 from this cause to a prior cause, in our search for 
 an unconditioned cause ; but so long as we are limited 
 by the conditions of our experience, such a cause we 
 shall never find. But why should there not be a self- 
 active cause, which is free from the conditions of time? 
 This at least is obvious, that unless there is such a 
 cause there is no free cause. Let us, then, admit the 
 possibility of there being, not merely a phenomenal 
 cause of events, but a real or ideal, or, as Kant calls it, 
 a " noumenal " cause of those events. By this supposi- 
 tion we provide for the possibility that we are ourselves 
 in our true nature such self-active causes, while admitting 
 that our inner being can never be brought within the 
 circle of our knowledge. As we have proved know- 
 ledge or experience to be a limited sphere, there is 
 nothing impossible in the supposition that our true 
 being is hidden behind the veil of our phenomenal 
 being, and that every act we do is self-originated, 
 though from the point of view of our knowledge we 
 must figure it as. falling within the system of nature, 
 and therefore as subject to natural causation. 
 
 Now, is there anything in our own nature which 
 would lead us to affirm at least the possibility that we are 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 67 
 
 self-active or self-determinant beings ? Kant's answer 
 is, that we have undoubted grounds for this idea. 
 The whole system of experience is constituted by the 
 activity of our minds as acting upon the sensible by 
 means of the universal forms of space and time. No 
 element can enter into the system of experience unless 
 there is a single self-conscious subject, which combines 
 it with other elements in one system. In other words, 
 we are for ourselves not merely objects of experience ; 
 we are also the subjects^ for which alone those objects 
 exist. It is true that as objects for ourselves we must 
 regard ourselves as we regard other objects, and so far 
 we have no reason to believe in our own self-activity. 
 But there is this fundamental difference between man 
 and all other beings of which he has experience ; that, 
 while they are exhaustively characterized when they 
 are affirmed to be objects, man, in virtue of his intelli- 
 gence, is conscious of himself as the subject for which 
 all objects are, including himself as a phenomenon. 
 This pure self-consciousness points beyond the phe- 
 nomenal world, and so far is in harmony with the idea 
 that man in his true self or inner nature is self- 
 determinant or free. Now, suppose for a moment that 
 this free subject actually exists : what would be its 
 relation to the phenomenal self? in other words, how 
 would man as subject be related to man as object? 
 The relation would be somewhat of this character : — 
 Every act which a man ascribes to himself would 
 proceed from his own initiative ; no other being in the 
 universe could, on this supposition, interfere with his 
 freedom or self-activity. But, though as a matter of 
 fact his acts would all flow from his own will, it would 
 nevertheless be true that to himself, as a knowing 
 being, they would appear to be necessitated. We can 
 thus see how it is possible that an act which proceeds 
 
6S PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 purely from the self-conscious subject, may yet present 
 itself to that subject under the form of time, and there- 
 fore as in conformity with the law of natural causality. 
 So far freedom has not been proved, but has only 
 been shown to be possible. Is there any way by which 
 its reality may be established? Kant affirms that there 
 is such a way. It is true that so far as theoretical 
 reason is concerned, we can never get beyond the mere 
 idea that freedom is possible, because of the limitations 
 under which it operates. But it is different when we 
 come to consider man, not as a knowing, but as an 
 acting being ; in other words, when we consider him 
 from the point of view of his practical reason or will. 
 For man cannot act at all except under the idea of 
 freedom ; in other words, action in a self-conscious being 
 presupposes the power of rising in idea above the 
 phenomenal. If man were nothing but a link in 
 the chain of phenomena, he would obviously never 
 have the idea of any reality higher than the phe- 
 nomenal. But in every act that he does he holds 
 more or less clearly before himself the idea of himself 
 as capable of a higher form of existence than that 
 in which he finds himself. Thus man can act at all 
 only under the presupposition that he is not a mere 
 object like other objects, but is a self-conscious subject. 
 Even this, however, does not prove freedom. It no 
 doubt shows us how highly probable it is that man 
 is free ; but what it actually proves is only that man 
 has the idea or thinks of himself as free. We must 
 therefore have a more solid basis for freedom before we 
 can regard it as established beyond cavil. Is there 
 such a basis ? Again Kant answers in the affirmative : 
 there is the immovable basis of the moral law. That 
 law cannot for a moment be identified with merely 
 natural law ; for the peculiarity of moral law is, that it 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 69 
 
 is essentially an ideal, expressing not what is or has 
 been or will be, but what ought to be. There is no 
 meaning in speaking of ought when we refer to a 
 merely natural object. We cannot say that a stone 
 ought to ■ fall to the ground, or that a dog ought to 
 bark ; what we must say is that stones do fall to 
 the ground ; dogs do bark. But a being who can 
 say to himself, " I ought to do this," " I ought not 
 to do that," lives in a world of pure ideas, a " world 
 not realized," which can never have a local habitation, 
 but exists only as an intelligible or spiritual or ideal 
 realm. A man does not judge himself by what he has 
 been or is or will be, but by what he ought to be. It 
 may be pointed out to him, that every act he has done 
 had a special cause in a preceding act, and yet his 
 belief remains unshaken, that he could have acted 
 otherwise, and if he has acted contrary to duty, that he 
 ought to have acted otherwise. Here is something 
 that differs toto coelo from anything that presents itself 
 within the sphere of knowledge proper. A being who 
 has the idea of moral obligation, who creates spon- 
 taneously an intelligible world and judges himself by 
 its standard, must from the very nature of the case be 
 independent of the phenomenal world with its law 
 of natural causation. If he were merely one object 
 among others in the realm of nature, he would never 
 have this idea of a moral or intelligible world at all ; 
 and therefore we are entitled to reason back from 
 the fact that man has this idea to what it presupposes ; 
 and what it presupposes is a being liberated from the 
 chain of natural necessity, a self-active or free being. 
 
 I have dwelt at what may seem inordinate length on 
 Kant's reconciliation of freedom and necessity, because 
 only by comprehending the grounds of that reconcilia- 
 tion is it possible to understand his moral proofs of the 
 
70 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 existence of God and the immortality of man. These 
 must seem arbitrary and baseless to anyone who does 
 not see why Kant regards the denial of any knowledge 
 of God and immortality as essential to faith in their 
 existence. His reason for insisting so strongly on this 
 point is that, in his view, we should otherwise be 
 compelled to believe that there was nothing higher 
 than the system of nature ; whereas, admitting to 
 the fullest extent the limitation of knowledge to that 
 system, we may go on to build on the place left vacant 
 by theoretical reason a solid edifice of reality by an 
 appeal to the moral consciousness. It is in this way, 
 as we have seen, that freedom is established ; and by a 
 similar line of thought Kant seeks to show that, though 
 God and immortality cannot be theoretically proved, 
 they are postulates which we as rational beings are 
 entitled, and indeed compelled, to make. For there 
 are, as Kant contends, certain beliefs and hopes which 
 are inextricably bound up with the moral consciousness. 
 It is perfectly true that there is nothing in the world of 
 nature affording the least support to them ; on the 
 contrary, if we had no other source of illumination than 
 that which is afforded by the natural sciences, we 
 should never even dream of God, freedom, or immor- 
 tality. But, as we have already seen, the system of 
 nature is after all simply the manner in which we, 
 as intelligent beings, interpret our sensible experiences ; 
 and as we must therefore in a sense be beyond nature, 
 we must impose upon ourselves a higher law or 
 principle. Nor is it any objection to the ideal of 
 reason that it can never be completely realized in 
 any actual community ; for it yet remains the absolute 
 standard by which we judge ourselves and others. 
 
 It may, however, be objected that it is illegitimate to 
 base reality upon our desires. Granting that a belief 
 
SCIENCE, MORALITY AND RELIGION 71 
 
 in God and a sure hope of immortality can alone bring 
 permanent satisfaction, is it not a fallacy to take the 
 strength of our longing as a guarantee that it is 
 directed to what really exists? 
 
 Kant's answer is, that while our ordinary wishes are 
 in no way prophetic of their realization, it is different 
 in the case of those desires which have their source in 
 our rational and moral nature. The one class, as 
 peculiar to this or that individual, and arising from his 
 special disposition and circumstances, may never be 
 realized ; the other, as springing from reason, receives 
 the sanction of reason. Of this latter class is the will 
 to believe in God, freedom, and immortality. As 
 rational beings we demand their existence. For reason 
 demands that conformity with the moral law should 
 ultimately result in happiness ; and if we postulate the 
 union of virtue and happiness, we must also postulate the 
 existence of an Infinite Being to ensure the possibility 
 of that union, and immortality as the condition of its 
 realization. With perfect conviction we may affirm the 
 objective reality of the three Ideas of reason ; and there- 
 fore God, freedom, and immortality have the absolute 
 guarantee of a rational faith. How far this method of 
 defending the higher interests of man can be regarded 
 as satisfactory must be left over for consideration at 
 our next meeting. 
 
LECTURE FOURTH 
 
 IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION 
 
 At our last meeting we were engaged in the attempt to 
 get an insight into the manner in which Kant, while 
 discarding all external authority and accepting without 
 reservation the inviolability of natural law, yet attempts 
 to save the belief in freedom and moral responsibility, 
 and to establish the existence of God and the immor- 
 tality of man, by means of what he calls " postulates 
 of practical reason/' Knowledge, as he holds, never 
 extends beyond the realm of nature, and, therefore, it 
 is precisely coincident with the sphere of the special 
 sciences. Kant, however, points out that nature is not 
 a reality which exists in separation from conscious 
 beings : it is the product of the activity by which those 
 beings, in virtue of the universal and necessary forms of 
 perception and thought, which belong to them as men, 
 construct for themselves an ordered system of experi- 
 ence. While all objects and events take their appointed 
 place in the one system of nature, that system does not 
 itself form a complete whole ; for no such whole can be 
 obtained consistently with the inclusion of all objects 
 and events in space and time, and their external con- 
 nection with one another through the principle of 
 reciprocal causation. And as nothing can satisfy our 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 73 
 
 intelligence short of an absolutely complete whole, 
 while the conditions of our experience preclude us from 
 ever reaching it, we are forced to conclude that we never 
 come face to face with reality as it is in itself, and must 
 content ourselves with that distorted or blurred image 
 of it which alone is possible for us. This limitation 
 applies not only to inanimate things and the animals, 
 but also to ourselves so far as we are objects for 
 ourselves ; and, therefore, we do not, strictly speaking, 
 know ourselves as we are, but only as we appear 
 under the limitations imposed upon us by the character 
 of our knowledge. But upon this very limitation Kant 
 bases his main defence of our moral and religious 
 interests. As we do not really know ourselves as we 
 are, there is nothing in the character of our knowledge, 
 as he argues, to show that in our true nature we are not 
 free moral agents, and thus the way is left open for the 
 defence of freedom and immortality on the basis of the 
 moral consciousness. Moreover, the rational demand 
 for unity can only be satisfied by the discovery of a 
 principle comprehending both nature and man, object 
 and subject ; and therefore the Idea of God inevitably 
 arises in the search for that complete unity which alone 
 can give satisfaction to reason. It is true that such a 
 unity we can never know ; but here, as in the case of 
 the Idea of freedom, we find that there is nothing in 
 the conclusions of science to preclude the existence of 
 God, if there are good grounds in another direction for 
 believing in it. That such grounds do exist in the moral 
 consciousness Kant contends, arguing that here is a case 
 where our desires and hopes are the perfect guarantee 
 of the reality of their objects. In the consciousness of 
 moral obligation we come upon a principle which lifts 
 us above all the desires that aim at merely individual 
 happiness. So far as I hold myself bound to act in 
 
74 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 conformity with the ideal of a perfectly moralized com- 
 munity, of which every man recognizes himself to be a 
 member, I refuse to make the very smallest concession 
 to the clamours of natural inclination. If duty demands 
 even the sacrifice of my life, and with it the loss of all 
 possible satisfaction of my sensuous nature, reason tells 
 me that I must obey. The solicitations of my lower 
 nature are hard to withstand, especially when they are 
 reinforced by a sort of moral cunning, which whispers 
 that this is an exceptional case, or that it is justifiable 
 because of the beneficial consequences to flow from it ; 
 but we all know that the moral law admits of no 
 paltering with its absolute commands, but must be 
 obeyed absolutely and unconditionally. Thus we frame 
 for ourselves the ideal of a community of rational 
 beings, each of whom places himself and others under 
 a universal system of moral laws, and this ideal we 
 regard as expressing, and alone expressing, the true 
 nature of man. It will not be denied that a society in 
 which every one should at all times will the moral law, 
 would be infinitely higher than any that has appeared 
 on earth. Nor will Kant admit that morality may be 
 merely a beautiful illusion, drawing man on by a sort of 
 noble craft to seek the good of all. The moral con- 
 sciousness, as he maintains, is the deepest thing in us. 
 It is the point at which we are united to all possible 
 rational beings, finite or infinite, and upon it depend 
 the whole of our spiritual interests. If we had no other 
 source of illumination than that which is afforded by 
 the natural sciences, those interests would certainly 
 vanish away as empty dreams. In a purely mechanical 
 system there is no place for spirit, and if we were 
 ourselves but links in an endless chain of causation, we 
 should have no guarantee of freedom or immortality or 
 God. But the system of nature is our own construction, 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 75 
 
 and therefore cannot be for us an absolute limit. When, 
 therefore, we find in ourselves aspirations which have 
 in them no taint of selfishness, but which are endorsed 
 by reason, as essential to the realization of our moral 
 nature, we are entitled to regard them as based upon 
 reality. " The righteous man," says Kant, " may say : 
 I will that there should be a God ; I will that, though 
 in this world of natural necessity, I should not be of it, 
 but should also belong to a purely intelligible world of 
 freedom ; finally, I will that my duration should be 
 endless. On this faith I insist and will not let it be 
 taken from me." ^ 
 
 The philosophy of Kant, as even the rapid outline 
 just drawn may have suggested, lifts us above the old 
 dualism of matter and mind, object and subject, and has 
 made it impossible for anyone who has mastered its 
 principle to suppose that reality can be revealed either 
 in the immediacy of sensation and impulse, or in any 
 mere process of abstract reflection. For, just as matter 
 is never given in our experience as constituting a 
 separate and independent realm of its own, but always 
 as in conjunction with mind ; so there is no such thing 
 as an experience which consists of isolated sensations and 
 impulses, and just as certainly none composed entirely 
 of " bloodless categories." Since Kant the problem 
 must necessarily be, whether the whole world of our 
 experience, within which matter and mind are subor- 
 dinate distinctions, is identical with reality, and whether 
 morality and religion can be demonstrated, or have only 
 the warrant of faith. But while Kant has shown that the 
 old antagonisms of the sensible and the intellectual, the 
 material and the spiritual, spring from natural but 
 untenable preconceptions, it cannot be denied that he 
 has given occasion for his successors to fall back into 
 
 ^Quoted in E. Caird's Evolution of Religion^ i. 339. 
 
76 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 new forms of dualism, which are only less fatal than the 
 old, because they put the problem in a way that brings 
 us nearer to its solution. It is with the object of aiding 
 in that solution that I propose to bring before you what 
 seem to me to be certain inadequacies in the doctrine of 
 Kant which prevent it from being entirely satisfactory. 
 When Kant took up the problem of philosophy, it 
 was tacitly assumed either that the world as known to 
 us is complete in itself prior to, and independently of, 
 our apprehension of it, or that the only reality of which 
 / we have direct knowledge consists of our own ideas or 
 states of consciousness. In the one case knowledge 
 was supposed to consist in the passive apprehension of 
 what already exists ; in the other, it was denied that 
 we have any experience, or at least any direct experi- 
 ence, of a world lying beyond consciousness. Now, 
 Kant began by challenging this whole point of view. 
 We cannot, he said, legitimately start with the assump- 
 tion of a world lying beyond our minds, which yet is of 
 the same essential character as the world of our experi- 
 ence ; nor, again, can the position be defended, that we 
 are directly conscious only of ideas in our own minds. 
 If we take the former view, it is inconceivable how we 
 can construct a science of nature ; for, on the assump- 
 tion of the pure passivity of the mind, our judgments 
 about nature can never have any wider application than 
 to the limited number of objects that have fallen within 
 our experience, whereas a science of nature must consist 
 in judgments that are true unjversally and necessarily. 
 If, again, we take the latter view, we can say nothing 
 about the nature of the world ; for that which is 
 assumed to be beyond the confines of our consciousness 
 cannot even be known to exist. We must therefore 
 revise our whole way of looking at things. Nature, or 
 the so-called " external " world, is not external to mind, 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 77 
 
 but only " external " in the sense that it consists, of 
 objects outside of one another spatially, or of events 
 external to one another in the sense of being discrete 
 and " marching single in an endless file." We are, 
 therefore, just as directly conscious of matter as of 
 mind. Moreover, the external or material world is not 
 given to us in our sensations ; for sensations in their 
 singleness are not knowledge : only when they are 
 ordered and combined under the forms of perception 
 and thought have we any experience of nature. Now, 
 these forms do not, like sensation, vary with each 
 individual and change upon us from moment to 
 moment ; they are identical in all men. Thus, we all 
 construct an external world which, vary as it may in its 
 sensible aspects, is fundamentally the same in this sense, 
 that it consists of objects in space and events in time, 
 all of which are connected together by the bond of 
 natural causation. This is the world which it is the 
 business of the sciences to survey and reduce to specific 
 laws. 
 
 It is obvious from this account that Kant never for 
 a moment supposed that the problem of knowledge is 
 to explain the steps by which the individual gradually 
 advances in knowledge, by the interpretation of his 
 particular sensible experiences; what he sought to 
 account for was that orderly world of faq;ts \x\ which 
 every man lives, though it is only expressly conceived 
 as a system by those who have learned the lesson of 
 modern science. The development of knowledge in 
 the individual is a question which^'^Talls to be answered 
 by the psychologist, whereas the task of the critical 
 philosopher is to determine what are the conditions 
 under which every one comes to the consciousness af 
 a system of experience, and acquiesces in the universal 
 and necessary judgments by which it is constituted. 
 
78 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 Kant assumed, as a basis for his investigation, the 
 principle that all men are of the same essential nature, 
 and therefore that the fundamental features in the 
 experience of one man are identical in kind with the 
 fundamental features in the experience of all men. 
 Of course each of us has his own individual experi- 
 ence, for which the experience of another cannot be 
 a substitute ; but, differ as we may in particulars, we 
 all organize our experience into a system in virtue of 
 the inalienable birthright of our intelligence, and indeed 
 into a system which is identical for all men, however 
 they may differ in respect of the data so organized. 
 Were it not so, as Kant maintains, our intelligence 
 would not be a principle of unity, but a principle of 
 contradiction. 
 
 So far as he contends for the identity of intelligence 
 in all men, Kant seems to me to insist upon a principle 
 which is of supreme importance, a principle which is 
 rejected or denied by those who seek, with what seems 
 manifest inconsistency, to commend for our acceptance 
 the doctrine that in the end what we call knowledge 
 is nothing but the " working conceptions " by which we 
 are enabled to reduce to order the confused mass of 
 impressions ever crowding upon us. But, although he 
 would have rejected without hesitation this recent 
 development of his philosophy, maintaining as he does 
 that the system of nature is necessarily the same for 
 all men, Kant's theory of knowledge rests upon an 
 assumption which logically leads to the conclusion that 
 reality cannot be a rational and self-consistent whole. 
 That assumption is, that the data furnished to us by 
 our sensible experiences are infected by certain funda- 
 mental and insuperable limitations, with the result that 
 what we call knowledge is not really the comprehension 
 of that which ts^ but only of that which appears. We 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 79 
 
 can have no experience, as Kant contends, except under 
 the forms of space and time ;. and these forms prove 
 themselves not to be determinations of reality in its 
 ultimate nature by the fact that reason, compelled to 
 operate with sensible data, cannot reach the unity for 
 which it is its very nature to seek, and is thus forced to 
 recognize that the system of nature, which alone falls 
 within knowledge, is at the most but a poor analogue 
 and adumbration of the true nature of things. 
 
 Here, as I think, we come upon the vulnerable spot 
 in the Critical theory of knowledge. It is no doubt 
 true that our experience is never complete, and that 
 the scientific view of the world is far from final ; but 
 we cannot infer from either of these facts that reality 
 lies beyond the sphere of our knowledge. This point 
 is so fundamental, and has so important a bearing 
 upon the philosophy of religion, that it seems necessary 
 to devote special attention to it. 
 
 Why does Kant hold that the objects of human 
 experience are fundamentally different from things in 
 themselves, so that we can only define the latter by 
 negative predicates ? One reason seems to be, that he 
 has not entirely freed himself from the individualistic 
 point of view against which his whole philosophy is in 
 one sense a protest. If we ask how the individual man 
 comes to have the consciousness of a sensible object, 
 it is natural to say that his knowledge results from the 
 action upon him of that object And there is no 
 doubt that this explanation is correct enough, so far 
 as the only question asked is in regard to the condi- 
 tions under which a certain sensation arises. Thus, 
 e.g.^ the sensation which I experience from the heat 
 of a fire can be determined in the same way, and on 
 the same principle, as any other event ; in other words, 
 it can be brought within the inviolable system of nature 
 
So PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 by the application of the principle of causality. So 
 long as we remain at this point of view, therefore, we 
 must say, that between the sensations of the individual 
 and the external object which acts as a stimulus, there 
 is a causal relation the same in kind as that which 
 subsists between any two external objects — say, the 
 heat of the sun and the heat of a stone, or, more 
 precisely, the molecular vibrations in each. It does 
 not follow, however, that we can apply the same 
 principle of explanation to the relation between the 
 external world and the knowledge by the individual 
 of that world. For that knowledge is not the effect 
 of the action upon consciousness of an object which 
 exists independently of that consciousness. We are 
 very apt to think of the matter in that way, because 
 we are usually interested, not in the problem of know- 
 ledge, but in the characteristics of the objects known ; 
 and, therefore, we almost inevitably overlook the fact 
 that for us there are no objects but those which fall 
 within the sphere of our knowledge. When we say 
 that the sensation of heat is due to the action of a 
 fire, we are moving within a world that could not exist 
 for us at all but for the complex activity implied in 
 the interpretation of our sensation as a fact which 
 takes its place in the orderly system of experience — 
 a system which, as Kant himself has shown, has its 
 being for us only because of the unifying activity 
 of our minds. Overlooking this activity, and fixing 
 our attention upon the sensation of the moment, 
 we refer it to an external object as its cause, and 
 imagine that no further explanation is needed, or 
 can be given. In reality we have in this way 
 explained nothing, but have simply assumed the 
 knowledge of a system of experience, and pointed 
 out that the sensation in question falls within it, and 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY Si 
 
 is relative to a particular external object which also 
 falls within it. But the question of knowledge is not 
 in regard to the connection of one thing with another 
 within a world assumed to be already known, but how 
 we come to have the knowledge of a world of objects 
 at all. To say that this world acts upon our minds is 
 the same as saying that a world which exists only by 
 the activity of our minds is the cause of that activity. 
 The world is not the cause of our knowledge ; for, 
 without knowledge, there is no cause. The principle 
 of causality cannot be explained as the result of the 
 relation between object and subject, because apart from 
 the subject as interpreting his experiences there is no ' 
 object. When, therefore, any attempt is made so to 
 explain it, the so-called explanation must necessarily 
 presuppose the very principle which is sought to be 
 explained. If the validity of the principle of causality 
 is admitted, there is no difficulty in accounting for 
 the origination of a given sensation ; for all that in 
 that case is necessary is to assign the conditions under 
 which it arises ; but obviously we cannot account for the 
 origination of the principle of causation by appealing 
 to the very principle which is to be accounted for. 
 Now, no one has pointed this out more clearly than 
 Kant himself; but, while he contends with irresistible 
 force that the principle of causality cannot be derived 
 from the particular experiences which it makes possible, 
 he never gets rid of the idea that the sensible element 
 in experience is the result of the action on the knowing 
 subject of an object that exists prior to the activity of 
 the object. And as the object of experience is analysed 
 into that sensible element in conjunction with the forms 
 of perception and thought, Kant is precluded from 
 identifying the object which causes the sensation with 
 the object as known ; so that the former lapses into 
 
 F 
 
82 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 a thing-in-itself, of which we can say nothing but that 
 it is, while the latter is regarded as the appearance of an 
 object which does not itself appear, but falls beyond 
 the sphere of knowledge. 
 
 It cannot be denied that there is much plausibility 
 in Kanfs reference to things-in-then)selves as the 
 source of the sensations which we as individuals 
 experience. Obviously, we do not make sensations for 
 ourselves, but must take them as they come, and they 
 stubbornly resist all our efforts to spirit them away. 
 Naturally enough, therefore, we come to look upon 
 ourselves as the passive recipients of impressions 
 coming from without ; and when, with Kant, we 
 recognize that the objects of our experience are con- 
 stituted by the combining activity of our own minds, 
 we inevitably think of the impressions themselves as 
 somehow related to a real object which does not fall 
 within knowledge, and therefore must be distinguished 
 from the object as known to us. But, if we consider 
 the matter more carefully, it becomes evident that we 
 are the victims of a confusion of ideas. My sensations 
 I certainly cannot make or unmake ; but it by no 
 means follows that they are produced in me by a cause 
 which lies beyond the circle of my knowledge. If I 
 ask what place they have in my experience as a whole, 
 I can trace out and assign the elements in it which are 
 necessary as the condition of their existence, but by 
 so doing I do not by any means explain their ultimate 
 source. The only explanation which can give final 
 satisfaction is one that assigns, not merely the particular 
 conditions under which my sensations arise, but the 
 conditions of my total consciousness ; and not merely 
 of my consciousness, but of all consciousness, actual or 
 possible ; and obviously such an explanation lifts us 
 above the system of nature altogether. It is this 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 83 
 
 ultimate reality, in fact, which Kant faj6ely identifies 
 with the unknown thing-in-itself, and thus is led to 
 hold that the totality of our experience is confined 
 within the sphere of phenomena. Seeing clearly that 
 the system of nature is not a " closed sphere,!* he sets 
 up the idea of a reality which escapes from its limits, 
 and infers that this reality, as falling beyond experience, 
 is not an object of knowledge. What he should really 
 have inferred is, that, to prevent the system of nature 
 from falling to pieces as a mere arbitrary construction 
 of our finite minds, we must seek to carry back our 
 knowledge of that system to its ultimate presupposi- 
 tions. If this can be done, what Kant calls the 
 thing-in-itself will no longer baffle our efforts to 
 comprehend it. 
 
 Now, when we have got rid of the illusory thing-in- 
 itself, and grasped the principle that the only reality 
 which has any meaning for us is that which falls within 
 the circle of our experience, we begin to see that we 
 can no longer accept the arbitrary limits assigned to 
 knowledge. Kant assumes that knowledge is coincident 
 with the mechanical system within which the natural 
 sciences voluntarily confine themselves. Taking this 
 view, he is led to hold that we can have experience 
 only of objects in space and time, as acting and 
 reacting on each other, and that any other conception 
 of the world, though it may not be false, at any rate 
 cannot be regarded as knowledge. One of the con- 
 sequences of this assumption is, that as our own desires 
 and volitions are events, they come under the same 
 inviolable law of causation as other events ; and, 
 therefore, we have no '' experience " or knowledge 
 of ourselves as free agents, nor as a consequence of 
 ourselves as moral beings. No doubt Kant would 
 restore, under the name of " faith," what he denies as 
 
84 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 " knowledge " ; but, at least in the first instance, he seems 
 to place freedom and morality on a very precarious 
 footing. Is there, then, any valid reason for limiting 
 knowledge, in the way Kant has done, to objects 
 and events which fall within the " system of nature " ? 
 Not only does the limitation seem to be indefensible 
 in itself, but it may be shown, as I think, that it is not 
 consistent with the " new way of ideas " opened up by 
 Kant himself. What is the " system of nature " ? It is 
 the real world as it exists for us in virtue of our 
 intelligence. No doubt that system is no arbitrary 
 creation of ours, but it exists for us only because we 
 are capable of comprehending the indissoluble con- 
 nection of objects, a connection without which the 
 world would fall to pieces, like a house when its 
 supports are withdrawn. In other words, the world is 
 transparent to us just in so far as it is rational or 
 intelligible ; and, therefore, it can be no mere aggregate 
 or collection of isolated atoms, but must be a whole, all 
 the parts of which imply one another. Now, if this is 
 so, we begin to see that the " system of nature," as it 
 is viewed by the special sciences, is after all only a 
 partial and inadequate representation of the world as it 
 really is. The real world is a mechanical system, or, 
 rather, with the object of attaining a clear and definite 
 grasp of its elements, it may be viewed as a mechanical 
 system ; but it is so much more, that any one who 
 regards that mode of conception as ultimate will find 
 himself landed in contradiction. For that "system," 
 taken by itself, is very far from being self-supporting 
 or self-complete. It exists only for a rational or 
 intelligent subject ; and if this subject is left out of 
 account, it vanishes away. The only foundation, there- 
 fore, upon which a real science of nature can be based, 
 is reason, and if the system of nature does not pre- 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 85 
 
 suppose a rational and intelligible whole, it can at the 
 most be nothing but a well-ordered fiction. Now, a 
 collection of objects and events, externally related to 
 one another, but not expressing a single self-differ- 
 entiating principle, cannot possibly satisfy the rational 
 demand for a whole which needs nothing else for its 
 presupposition. As Kant himself points out, there is 
 no completeness or individuality in any accumulation 
 of objects in space and time, because no magnitude, 
 extensive or intensive, can even be conceived which is 
 complete in itself In truth, the illimitable extension 
 and the infinite divisibility of the extended universe 
 exist at all only as abstractions of a thinking 
 consciousness. Now, we are surely entitled to reason 
 back from our experience to all that is necessary to 
 make it possible, unless we adopt the self-contradictory 
 attitude of the pure sceptic, and maintain that we 
 cannot even be sure that we experience what we 
 experience. And Kant, above all men, is bound to 
 admit the validity of this method, for it is that which 
 he has himself applied in justification of the special 
 sciences. The system of experience, then, as we may 
 fairly argue, presupposes a thinking intelligence as 
 its correlate, or rather as the condition without 
 which it could not exist at all. But if so, is it not 
 evident that we must include within the sphere of 
 knowledge the intelligence without which the system of ^ 
 nature is impossible ? And not only so, but we must 
 affirm of that system all that is necessary to account 
 for its intelligibility. When, therefore, we find, as 
 Kant himself shows we do find, that a world which is> 
 conceived simply as an aggregate of objects, acting and 
 reacting on one another, is not a complete whole, 
 because it is not self-explaining, must we not go on 
 to seek for a higher and more satisfactory way of 
 
S6 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 regarding it? An interminable chain of events, hanging 
 suspended in the air at both ends, is obviously the 
 mere fragment of a real universe, not the universe in 
 its totality. For, after all, mind exists, and in any 
 ultimate theory must have at least as much reality as 
 the objects contrasted with and yet related to it. 
 In mind, therefore, we must seek for the complement 
 to the system of nature which is required to round 
 it off. On the other hand, we cannot regard mind 
 simply as another sphere, or hemisphere, externally 
 attached to matter ; for, as we have seen, the 
 system of nature must be so far akin to the 
 intelligence for which it exists as to be compre- 
 hensible by it. The universe, then, is a universe 
 in which nature and mind imply each other, but in 
 such a way that, while nature must be intelligible, 
 mind is that for which nature exists. Now, when we 
 ask what must be the character of an intelligible 
 nature, the answer must be, that it is a universe every 
 element of which is inseparable from the whole; in 
 other words, a universe in which there is nothing which 
 could exist were the whole not what it is. And there 
 can be no doubt^ I think, that such a whole must 
 contain within itself the principle of its own differentia- 
 tion ; and must therefore be a free, self-determinant, 
 rational whole, which expresses itself in every part, 
 or employs every part as the means of its own self- 
 realization. If this is true, we must conceive of the 
 universe, not merely as organic, but also as spiritual, 
 i.e, as the manifestation of an infinite intelligence. 
 Should it be objected that we have no " knowledge " of 
 such a principle, even granting that we are entitled 
 to claim that it has a firm basis in " faith," I venture to 
 reply, that the objection rests upon some such arbitrary 
 limitation of knowledge as that upon which Kant's 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 87 
 
 separation of phenomena from things-in-themselves is 
 based, — a limitation which, as I have tried to show, 
 is not based upon anything in the nature of things. 
 Knowledge, in any proper sense of the term, must 
 include all that the total nature of our experience 
 compels us to affirm; and the total nature of our 
 experience, as I have argued, is incomprehensible unless 
 there is presupposed in it the all-pervasive activity of 
 an infinite Spirit. If it is still objected that the Infinite 
 can never be an object of experience, I answer that 
 while from the nature of the case the source of all 
 reality cannot be identified with any one of its own 
 phases, that does not prevent it from being cortiprehended 
 by us in so far as we are capable of interpreting what 
 we experience. If any one prefers to call this com- 
 prehension of the ultimate principle of the universe 
 faith rather than knowledge^ we need not dispute about 
 words : at any rate, it is a " faith " based upon the 
 insight of reason, and therefore a faith which can only 
 be distinguished from "knowledge," because it is know- 
 ledge come to complete self-consciousness. If, on the 
 other hand, by " faith " is meant the blind acceptance of 
 what cannot be established on rational grounds, we 
 must answer, that such a faith is not above, but below, 
 knowledge; or, at least, it can only be held to be 
 higher than knowledge, if it implicitly contains the 
 principle by which alone knowledge can be explained 
 and defended. 
 
 We cannot, then, admit with Kant that " knowledge " 
 is limited to the "system of nature" without committing 
 ourselves to the self-contradictory doctrine, that, while 
 nature has no reality apart from intelligence, we can 
 know nature but cannot know the intelligence without 
 which it could not be. If the knowledge of nature is 
 explicable only by showing that it presupposes principles, 
 
88 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 and ultimately a single principle, which exist only 
 for a rational subject, it is absurd to hold that we 
 can know nothing of the rational subject, but only of 
 its object. The contrary rather is true; for, if mind is 
 the key to nature, it would be more reasonable to say 
 that we know nothing but mind, nature being simply 
 the object of mind. But neither of these extreme views 
 is true to the facts. We know the system of nature 
 just because it is intelligible, and we know mind just 
 because it comprehends nature. To limit knowledge 
 to either, or to assign one region to knowledge and 
 another to faith, is to split up the universe into two 
 separate halves, with the result that we have in the one 
 a world which is unintelligible, and in the other an 
 intelligence which is intelligent of nothing. 
 
 Why, then, does Kant maintain with such energy 
 that God, freedom, and immortality are based, not upon 
 knowledge, but upon faith? and why does he seek to 
 exalt the practical reason or moral consciousness above 
 the theoretical reason ? And if these oppositions must 
 be denied, what transformation of his philosophy results 
 from the vindication of the latter as co-ordinate in value 
 with the former ? 
 
 Kanfs ostensible reason for denying knowledge of 
 anything beyond the system of nature is, as we have 
 seen, his conviction that in no other way can the higher 
 interests and hopes of man be defended. Freedom, as 
 it seemed to him, cannot be saved, consistently with 
 the maintenance of the inviolability of natural law, 
 unless we provide a way of escape from the realm of 
 nature by opening up a supersensible region of which 
 man may be shown from the moral consciousness to be 
 a denizen. Immortality is a dream, if the whole 
 nature of man is exhausted in our knowledge of him 
 as an object like other objects, and therefore as 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 89 
 
 subject to the process of decay and death, which is 
 the destiny of all that lives. Nor is there any reason 
 for holding the existence of God, on the basis of 
 experience, since experience can never carry us beyond 
 the dead mechanism of nature. On the other hand, 
 morality and religion demand that we should be free 
 and immortal, and that God should exist as the source 
 of that harmony between the ideal world of morality 
 and the world of our experience. As a means of 
 escape from this intolerable dilemma, Kant insists upon 
 the distinction of the phenomenal from the noumenal 
 world, and the limitation of positive knowledge to the 
 former. Now, if we break down the middle wall of 
 partition between the sensible and the supersensible, as 
 we have insisted upon doing, do we not surrender 
 all the advantages which Kant believed himself to 
 have secured by its erection ? If man lives in the 
 same world of experience as other beings, how can 
 he be free? If he is subject to the universal law 
 of nature, how can he be immortal? And if God 
 is but a name for the system of nature, is there 
 SLUy real basis for religion ? 
 
 The problem thus raised does not seem to me 
 to be so formidable as it appears at first sight, thanks 
 largely to the new outlook opened up by Kant himself. 
 Freedom, as he contends, is not capable of being proved 
 by theoretical reason, though theoretical reason shows 
 that its reality is possible ; but, what for knowledge is 
 a vain effort, is a necessary ** postulate" of practical 
 reason, which lays down an absolute moral law, and 
 therefore must be held to guarantee the possibility 
 of its fulfilment. This doctrine is obviously incom- 
 patible with our contention, that nothing can be justly 
 maintained which cannot be shown to be bound up 
 with the nature of our knowledge ; and, therefore, that 
 
90 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 unless we know ourselves to be free, we have no right 
 to assert that we are free. But, with the denial of the 
 critical solution of the apparent union in man of 
 necessity and freedom by the distinction between man 
 as he appears and man as he /j, are we not compelled 
 to surrender freedom altogether, or to fall back upon 
 the old device of seeking for breaks in the continuity 
 of natural law ? It does not seem to me that we are 
 impaled on either horn of this dilemma. No doubt we 
 cannot maintain at once that our actions are free and 
 that they are subject to necessity. For Kant this did 
 not involve a flat contradiction, because, while man is 
 in his view really free, he is only in appearance subject 
 to necessity ; but for us, who have discarded what we 
 regard as a dangerous and illusory method of defence, 
 no such device is possible. Nor can we adopt the 
 tactics of those who try to show that the laws of 
 nature are after all not so very inviolable as they seem, 
 being in fact merely empirical generalizations, which 
 may be outgrown at any time by an extension of know- 
 ledge. This essentially sceptical solution, of which I 
 shall say something more in a later lecture, I believe to be 
 on fundamentally false lines ; and I therefore assume, 
 with Kant, that there are no breaks in the system 
 of nature, and, in fact, that any relaxation of its 
 rigidity will logically lead to the dissolution of the 
 universe by its reduction to a mere assemblage of 
 accidental particulars. Nature, as the sciences assume, 
 is so welded and compacted together, that, as Hegel 
 said on one occasion, it is at bottom an identical 
 proposition to say, that the annihilation of a single 
 atom of matter would destroy the whole universe. 
 No doubt what are called " laws of nature " are not 
 absolute, in the sense that they can never be super- 
 seded ; for the history of science is, from one point 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 91 
 
 of view, nothing but the record of the supersession 
 of laws previously regarded as absolute ; but it still 
 remains true, that the world is ruled by inviolable 
 law, however imperfectly that law may be grasped 
 in its manifold variations, and that a new law always 
 arises in the effort to explain the difficulties which 
 confront the discoverer who assumes that nature must 
 always be consistent with itself Are we, then, forced 
 to deny freedom, immortality, and God? Are these 
 objects of our moral and religious faith swept away 
 by the irresistible might of science with its inexorable 
 law? 
 
 No such shipwreck of our higher interests need be 
 feared, if we only follow out and interpret in its spirit 
 the truth which Kant has done so much to bring home 
 to us, namely, that the system of nature has in itself 
 neither independence nor completeness. It has no 
 independence, because, when it is separated from the 
 rational whole, of which it is merely a phase or aspect, 
 it becomes unintelligible ; and it has no completeness, 
 since no assemblage of objects in space and time will 
 account for_ the undoubted fact of our experience of 
 ourselves. To urge that nature is governed by in- 
 violable law, does not in the least degree imply that 
 there is no room for freedom. For inviolable law, if 
 we are right in maintaining that the universe is in 
 every part subject to reason, is not a blind necessity, 
 but simply the absolutely rational, and therefore un- 
 varying, expression of a perfect intelligence. If it could 
 be shown that nature is not subject to law — that it 
 
 admits of an arbitrary interference with its uniformity 
 
 there would then be the strongest reason for denying 
 the possibility of freedom ; for, in the absence of all 
 rational prevision, it would obviously be impossible 
 to foresee what a day or an hour might bring forth, 
 
92 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 and therefore impossible to realize our ideals, however 
 high they might be/ (The more conclusively it is 
 proved that the system of nature admits of no 
 violation, the more assured we ought to be that it 
 is compact of reason. If nature is, so to speak, the 
 body of which reason is the soul ; if it is, in Goethe's 
 phrase, " the visible garment of God " ; there can be no 
 great difficulty in showing that the freedom of man is 
 not only compatible with the inviolability of natural 
 law, but is inconceivable on any other supposition.) 
 For, natural law exists for man, not simply as some- 
 thing to which he must submit, but as something 
 which he can comprehend, and therefore something by 
 reference to which he can organize his life. It is no 
 doubt true, that in his first or natural state man 
 finds himself in a world which seems to be hostile 
 to him ; a world in which he has to struggle for 
 existence against forces that seem to be expressly 
 formed to crush him ; but, at the heart of this seeming 
 antagonism lies a divine principle of unification, which 
 the whole process of his life brings to ever clearer 
 consciousness. In times of doubt or despair we may 
 feel inclined to endorse the hopeless creed expressed 
 by Tennyson : 
 
 " The stars," she whispers, " blindly run ; 
 
 A web is wov*n across the sky ; 
 
 From out waste places comes a cry. 
 And murmurs from the dying sun : 
 
 And all the phantom, Nature, stands, 
 
 With all the music in her tone, 
 
 A hollow echo of my own, — 
 A hollow form with empty hands." 
 
 But deeper comprehension will bring us to the nobler 
 and truer faith, expressed by the same poet, that 
 there is 
 
roEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 93 
 
 " One God, one law, one element, 
 And one far-off divine event 
 To which the whole creation moves." 
 
 If nature were intrinsically hostile to man, there would 
 be no possibility of reconciliation with it In truth the 
 long toil of ages is the method by which man learns to 
 comprehend the inner meaning of nature, and thus 
 to make it the means of his own development. The 
 general answer, then, to Kant's dilemma of necessity 
 and freedom is, that what is called necessity is no 
 external compulsion by which freedom is destroyed, 
 but the very condition by which it is realized. The 
 system of nature cannot be a bar to the realization 
 of freedom, since it is simply the immediate form in 
 which the divine reason is expressed. This may be 
 seen more clearly if we look for a moment at the 
 method by which Kant first sets up nature and 
 freedom as opposites, and . then attempts to reconcile 
 them. 
 
 Freedom, according to Kant, is proved, not directly, 
 but indirectly. We cannot know ourselves to be free, 
 because we cannot come in immediate contact with our 
 real inner self, on account of the limitations in the 
 constitution of our minds. But, though we are thus 
 shut out from a direct consciousness of ourselves, 
 there is no doubt of the fact that we have the 
 conception of an intelligible or moral world, and are 
 therefore in idea raised above the world of sensible 
 experience. No being can have such a conception 
 that is not more than a part of nature ; therefore, 
 as Kant argues, the fact that we have the conception 
 of an absolute moral law points back to our real 
 freedom or self-determination. Now, this argument 
 obviously depends for its whole force upon the idea 
 that only a free being can have the consciousness of 
 
94 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 an absolute moral law. " In other words, a free being 
 is one that shows its freedom by submitting voluntarily 
 to a law which it recognizes as the true law of its 
 being. If therefore we find that man does not always 
 submit to this absolute law, it would seem to follow 
 that, in so far as he violates it, to that extent he is 
 not free. But, if freedom and morality are strictly 
 correlative, a man must either be always moral or he is 
 not always free.^ Kant is not unaware of the difficulty, 
 and indeed it was partly a perception of it which 
 led him to distinguish between man as a natural, 
 and man as a rational, being. Man, he contends, is 
 a free being, who originates an absolute moral law 
 as the law of his own nature ; but, on the other hand, 
 he is a phenomenal being, affected by certain natural 
 desires or inclinations or passions, which he does not 
 originate, but simply finds in himself. So far as he 
 is a natural being, man is not free. There the law 
 of natural necessity reigns as absolutely as in the case 
 of the inorganic thing or the " mere animal." But this 
 raises a very great difficulty. So far as man is a 
 merely natural being, there is no question of will or 
 action proper at all. I will or act only in so far as 
 I will or act under the idea of myself as the subject to 
 be realized. But the natural desires or passions do 
 not involve the consciousness of oneself as an active 
 subject ; and, therefore, as it would seem, they have 
 as little to do with the man himself, the man as a free 
 or rational being, as if they belonged to some other 
 being altogether. Apparently, then, we are left, on 
 Kant's view, with the curious result, that man wills 
 only the moral law ; all the " activities," so-called, 
 which arise from the natural inclinations or passions 
 being in no way attributable to himself. Now, Kant, 
 seeing this difficulty, attempts to evade it. It is quite 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 95 
 
 true, he says, that man as a merely natural being must 
 be regarded as simply one of the objects of nature, and 
 therefore as subject to purely natural desires, which, 
 like his sensations, he can neither make nor unmake ; 
 but, on the other hand, he is capable of taking up 
 these natural desires into himself and willing them, and 
 when he does so, he voluntarily and freely violates the 
 absoluteness of the moral law. This, then, is Kant's 
 solution of the difficulty, that a free being apparently 
 must be determined solely by the moral law. . His 
 view is, that, while man sets up the idea of moral law, 
 and regards it as absolutely binding upon himself, 
 he yet is capable of being influenced by the natural 
 desires, in so far as he takes these up into his will. 
 
 But this only raises a new difficulty. How should a 
 free being, who is defined as one that is independent 
 of the sensible world as a whole, and therefore inde- 
 pendent of natural inclination or passion, be acted upon 
 by the sensible ? Is it not the very character of a free 
 being, on Kant's own showing, to be independent of 
 natural desire ? If so, how can natural desird act upon 
 him ? Such a conception of the influence of natural 
 desire would seem to bring this supposed free being back 
 into the realm of phenomena ; for now, apparently, his 
 will is acted upon by something external to himself. 
 The difficulty, therefore, is to understand how a free 
 being, defined as Kant defines it, viz, as a supersensible 
 being, should in any way be affected by the sensible. 
 To this objection Kant's answer would be, that the 
 apparent action of sensible desire upon the free subject 
 arises from the limitation of our knowledge. We can 
 only know anything by connecting elements through 
 the principle of causality, and this principle is of such a 
 character that it necessarily represents these elements 
 as externally connected and influenced by one another. 
 
96 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 Hence, when we come to consider the relation of the 
 free subject to the natural desires, we have no other 
 way of representing that relation than by viewing it 
 as an instance of cause and effect. We are therefore 
 compelled to conceive of the relation between the 
 desires and the free subject as the action of the former 
 upon the latter, though in strict truth a free subject 
 cannot be acted upon by anything else. It is not, 
 therefore, correct to say that desire influences man: what 
 we must rather say is, that man wills freely to act from 
 sensuous desire. This is the final form of the solution, 
 so far as Kant gives it. It does not, however, remove 
 the fundamental difficulty. Why should a free being 
 will to enslave himself? Why should a being whose 
 very nature it is to be free from desire, voluntarily 
 bring himself under the yoke of desire? Kant is 
 forced to confess that this is an ultimate and in- 
 explicable fact. We do find that man somehow is 
 influenced by natural desire, or rather voluntarily 
 submits to its influence ; but how a free being should 
 thus fall into this practical contradiction, we are unable 
 to explain. Now, whenever a system takes refuge in 
 an inexplicable fact, it is pretty certain that it contains 
 some fundamental defect. We have, therefore, to ask 
 what is the fundamental defect in Kant's ethical 
 doctrine that prevents him from giving a perfectly 
 satisfactory solution of the problem which he raised. 
 The fundamental defect in the ethics of Kant is similar 
 to that which besets his theory of knowledge. Kant 
 confuses two very different things ; the limitation of 
 the human mind at a certain stage and its absolute 
 limitation. He assumes that there is a complete 
 opposition between reason and desire, and therefore 
 that no one who acts from desire can act ratronally. 
 But that opposition is based upon the false assumption 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 97 
 
 that the affections of a self-conscious subject are not 
 implicitly rational ; while in truth every such affection 
 implies the unreflective operation of reason. The 
 "tender charities of husband, son, and brother" take 
 the form of immediate feeling, but they are possible 
 only because they carry with them a rational end. 
 ( The truth is, that the mere affections of a sensitive 
 subject are not desires at all, in the sense in which we 
 speak of the desire for wealth, or knowledge, or the 
 good of others, but only become so when they enter 
 into the self-determinant life of man ; and then, when 
 carried out into action, or willed, they are rational 
 motives relative to rational ends. There is, therefore, 
 no difficulty in understanding how a free being may 
 determine himself by desire, for desire is just the 
 manner in which the free subject does determine 
 himself in any given case.J When Kant speaks as 
 if man, in seeking the satisfaction of desire, is 
 necessarily violating the rational law of duty, he 
 overlooks the fact, which on occasion he is constrained 
 to admit, that a rational being never acts except 
 under the idea of the good, and never ascribes to 
 himself an action which he does not will. No doubt, 
 in seeking the satisfaction of his desires, he may act 
 contrary to reason, but he could neither act contrary 
 to nor in accordance with reason were his effective 
 desires not the expression of his will. The freedom 
 of man is therefore no mere "postulate," but a truth* 
 of which the whole self-conscious life of man is the 
 clearest evidence. To be a self and to be free are 
 the same thing; for no being can be self-conscious 
 without being beyond the influence of purely external 
 causes. 
 
 Nor is the existence of God a " postulate.*' As 
 we have seen, the system of nature is unintelligible 
 
 G 
 
98 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 unless as the outward form of a perfect intelligence. 
 
 For, nature exists only for us as intelligent beings, 
 
 and our existence again is inconceivable apart from 
 
 an ultimate principle from which our rational as well 
 
 as our sensitive nature proceeds. Kant argues that 
 
 the existence of God is merely a " postulate," which 
 
 we are compelled to make because reason demands 
 
 that the world should not by its very nature be 
 
 incompatible with the union of virtue and happiness. 
 
 But, such a " postulate " can have no validity, unless 
 
 our experience is inexplicable on any other supposition ; 
 
 and if that is so, we have ample ground for claiming 
 
 that the existence of the Infinite is a principle of 
 
 knowledge. (Thus the system of nature, the freedom 
 
 of man and the existence of God are but different 
 
 aspects of the same truth, the truth that we live in 
 
 a rational universe. There is, therefore, no need to 
 
 bring back, under the name of " faith," what is denied 
 
 under the name of " knowledge," or to oppose 
 
 theoretical reason and practical reason, assigning the 
 
 " primacy " to the latter. What is called " faith " is 
 
 really reason, which is not aware of itself as reason, 
 
 just because it has unwittingly built up for itself the 
 
 world of nature and the higher world of morality, art, 
 
 and religion, and thus seems to find before it a creation 
 
 foreign to itself. ; " Theoretical reason," again, is not 
 
 a separate and independent faculty, but simply that 
 
 aspect of the single self-conscious intelligence in 
 
 which it contemplates its own unconscious work; while 
 
 " practical reason " is the same intelligence, when it 
 
 contemplates itself in the actual process of expressing 
 
 itself in particular acts. To set up the one against 
 
 the other, assigning a superiority to either, is to set 
 
 up the intelligence against itself What sort of 
 
 theoretical reason would that be, which did not 
 
IDEALISM AS A PHILOSOPHY 99 
 
 express itself in an objective world, but remained 
 for ever self-enclosed ? and what sort of practical 
 reason could there be, which did not comprehend the 
 objective world, but ruled itself by fictions of its 
 own creation ? The former would have nothing real 
 '■ to know, and the latter nothing real to will. Reason 
 is a seamless whole, and as such it must be conceived 
 as knowing in its action and active in its knowledge. 
 
 From what has been said it follows that there is 
 no need to seek for God afar off; He is "in our 
 mouths and in our hearts." When, therefore, the 
 religious consciousness lifts us above the divisions of 
 our ordinary prosaic view of life, it does not transport 
 us into a realm which is foreign to reason, but simply 
 reveals to us the truth of which in our ordinary mood 
 we are only vaguely conscious ; the truth, that here 
 and now we live in a spiritual realm, and may hold 
 communion with the Eternal Spirit. Were it not so, 
 religion would be impotent to elevate and idealize life. 
 A God who is fabled to dwell in a region beyond the 
 " flaming walls " of the universe, is not only impossible 
 of demonstration, but would be for us nothing even 
 if his existence could be demonstrated. ( The only God 
 in whom we can believe is a God who constitutes the 
 rational structure of nature, and is most clearly revealed 
 to us in our own hearts and minds ; a God whose 
 infinite perfection our intelligence comprehends in 
 principle, to whom our aspirations go out, who forms 
 the ever-growing ideal which we can never completely 
 realize, and " in whose will," as Dante says, " is our 
 peace " : zn la sua volontade e nostra pace, \ 
 
LECTURE FIFTH 
 
 PERSONAL IDEALISM AND THE NEW REALISM 
 
 In our last lecture an attempt was made to show- 
 that the true elements contained in the Critical 
 Philosophy of Kant can only be preserved, if that 
 philosophy is developed into a Speculative or Con- 
 structive Idealism. The main distinction between 
 these two modes of thought is that, while both 
 maintain that the universe is rational and that 
 reason is self-harmonious, the former denies that either 
 of these propositions can be established on the basis 
 of knowledge, while the latter contends that the 
 opposition of the theoretical and the practical reason 
 is fatal to both propositions. Hence, while the Criti- 
 cal Philosophy falls back upon certain "postulates" 
 of the moral consciousness in support of ** faith," 
 Speculative Idealism refuses to accept the antithesis 
 of faith and knowledge, theoretical and practical reason, 
 maintaining that a faith which is not identical with 
 reason, a theoretical reason which is not in harmony 
 with practical- reason, is beset by an inherent weakness, 
 which is sure to betray itself under the most searching 
 of all tests, the test of self-criticism. Under this test, 
 as we contended, Kant's doctrine of a faith that from 
 its very nature cannot be developed into knowledge 
 
PERSONAL IDEALISM loi 
 
 is seen to be fatal to all our higher interests ; and 
 we endeavoured, by working in the higher spirit of 
 the Critical Philosophy, to show that those interests 
 are vouched for by a rational interpretation of our 
 experience as a whole. The system of nature, as 
 we held, is no limit to human freedom or to the 
 perfection of God, since it has no independent reality 
 of its own, but is simply a certain aspect of reality 
 as a whole — that aspect in which, for the limited 
 purpose of the special sciences, the external world 
 is viewed as if it were complete in itself. When 
 this artificial limitation of reality to a collection of 
 objects, all of which are reciprocally dependent, is 
 taken at its proper value, we see that there is 
 nothing in the nature of the sciences to prevent us 
 from affirming the freedom of man and the absolute- 
 ness of God, and basing both upon the character 
 of our experience in its completeness. The form of 
 Idealism thus outlined attempts to combine the truth 
 of Materialism and Spiritualism in a theory which 
 affirms that the universe is an intelligible whole, and 
 that as such it implies as its correlate an Infinite 
 Intelligence. Within this whole, and expressive of 
 this Intelligence, is contained every form of existence, 
 including that of man. But man, as it is further 
 held, not only falls into his place in the whole, but 
 within him and coming to consciousness in him 
 operates the same identical principle as that which 
 operates in the whole and characterizes the Infinite 
 Intelligence. And it is also maintained that, on any 
 other supposition, freedom in any rational sense is 
 impossible. 
 
 Partly through the influence of Lotze, and partly 
 from the surviving influence of Empiricism, a number 
 of writers, English and American, have preferred 
 
I02 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 various compromises to the thorough-going Idealism 
 thus outlined. The doctrine which found most favour 
 for many years, after the inadequacy of the older 
 Empiricism, as represented by James Mill and John 
 Stuart Mill, was perceived, was that of the late 
 Herbert Spencer, who sought to reach beyond the 
 opposition of Materialism and Subjective Idealism by 
 maintaining that both are true phenomenally, while 
 Reality in its ultimate nature differs from both, though 
 from the necessary limitations of our thought it can 
 never be an object of knowledge. This unknown 
 and even unknowable Reality must be presupposed 
 as the ultimate basis of both science and religion. 
 The history of religion, as he thinks, has consisted 
 in an ever clearer recognition of the impossibility on 
 our part of a definite comprehension of the Power 
 hidden behind the veil of the phenomenal ; so that 
 at last it is openly confessed that " to think that 
 God is, as we can think Him to be, is blasphemy." 
 Nor is science any more successful than religion 
 in enabling us to comprehend the Absolute. Such 
 conceptions as time and space, motion and force, 
 consciousness and personality, break down in contra^ 
 diction the moment we attempt to transfer them to 
 the Absolute ; the reason being, as Hamilton and 
 Mansel have shown, that from the very nature of 
 our knowledge we can only comprehend the finite 
 and relative. 
 
 It was not to be expected that this attempt to 
 show that the whole of our experience is fundamen- 
 tally discrepant could givQ permanent satisfaction ; and 
 I think one may safely say that the only attack 
 upon Speculative Idealism which is at present worthy 
 of consideration comes from those who call themselves 
 Personal Idealists, and from those who represent the 
 
PERSONAL IDEALISM 103 
 
 New Realism. While they are both agreed in their 
 antagonism to Speculative Idealism, as they understand 
 it, they are equally opposed to each other. I think 
 it will be possible to show that neither of them can 
 be regarded as a self-consistent and adequate explana- 
 tion of the world in which we live, of our own 
 nature, or of the ultimate principle of the uni- 
 verse. 
 
 Personal Idealism contends that it is impossible 
 to preserve the freedom of man and the existence 
 of God in a theory which abolishes individuality and 
 leaves room for no reality but the Absolute. It may 
 be regarded as proved that what are commonly called 
 " things " have no independent existence, but exist only 
 for mind. This being admitted, it follows that there 
 exist souls, spirits, or selves, which know or experience 
 things. Such beings are in some sense persons. 
 Now, a person is, in the first place, a thinking, as 
 distinguished from a merely feeling consciousness ; 
 secondly, he is in some degree permanent, or brings 
 different experiences into relation with one another ; 
 thirdly, he distinguishes himself from the objects of 
 his thought, though these have no existence except 
 in his or some other consciousness ; fourthly, among 
 the objects are other selves, which are known as 
 beings, that, like himself, exist for themselves ; and 
 lastly, he is not only a thinking and feeling, but 
 a willing consciousness. To sum up, " a person is 
 a conscious, permanent, self-distinguishing, individual, 
 active being." These essential characteristics of per- 
 sonality do not . seem to be found in any form of 
 consciousness below the human, nor are they found 
 in their perfection in the most developed human 
 consciousness ; and, indeed, so far as our knowledge 
 goes, they are found only in God. The world must 
 
I04 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 exist in a mind ; and as it existed before the origin 
 o( any human mind, we must hold the existence of 
 a Universal Thinker, to whom must be attributed 
 in perfection all those characteristics which are implied 
 by Personality, and which yet no human person ever 
 completely realizes. It may be concluded, then, that 
 God " is a being who thinks, who persists throughout 
 his successive experiences, who knows those past 
 experiences as well as the present, who distinguishes 
 Himself from the objects of His thought, who in 
 particular distinguishes Himself from all other con- 
 sciousnesses, and, finally, who wills, and wills in 
 accordance with the conception of an ideal end or 
 good." If it is asked wka^ God wills, it may be 
 answered, that He must at least will everything that 
 is not willed by some lesser will ; in other words, 
 He must will the object of His own thought, z,e, 
 the world. To this view it may be objected : ( i ) 
 that, just as the human self knows itself only by 
 the same act in which it knows the not-self ; so 
 the world is as necessary to God as God is to the 
 world ; (2) that the Absolute must be both subject 
 and object ; and (3) that wzi/ cannot be attributed 
 to God. The answer to these objections is: (i) that, 
 while the world must be an object for God, it does 
 not follow that it is anything but His experiences, 
 and these experiences must be conceived as willed, 
 no less than thought ; (2) that, while subject and 
 object are inseparable, it does not follow that they 
 are indistinguishable ; and (3) that, while there is 
 much in our experience of volition which belongs 
 to our limitations, yet "our volition (as we know it) 
 is the only experience which enables us to give 
 concrete embodiment to the purely a priori concep- 
 tion of Causality, which includes both final cause 
 
Wl 
 
 PERSONAL IDEALIS'jt 105 
 
 * 
 
 and efficient cause." And "even r^'part from this 
 argument from Causality, the mere feet that mind, 
 as we know it, is always will as ^11 as thought, 
 would be a sufficient ground iir inferring by 
 analogy that, if God be the sy^^eme source of 
 being or Mind, He too must be^Will no less than 
 Thought." (L 
 
 The general conclusion is, that *4j all reality lies in 
 souls and their experiences." What, then, is the 
 relation between these souls c/ spirits? God, as 
 omniscient and eternal, must b^egarded as '* causing 
 those experiences of the other 5 |uls of which their own 
 wills are not the cause, and ^nce no human will is 
 ever the whole cause of anytning) as co-operating in 
 some sense with whatever causality is exercised by 
 human wills." Rejecting " the hypothesis of many 
 independent, underived intelligences, co-eternal and 
 uncreated," we must hold that " the human mind, 
 like all minds, is derived from the one supreme 
 Mind," Nevertheless, we must maintain " the sepa- 
 rateness and distinctness of the individual self- 
 consciousness from God when once in existence and 
 so long as it exists." The fallacy of Monism is 
 " the assumption that what constitutes existence for 
 others is the same as what constitutes existence for 
 self. A ^km£^ is as it is known : its esse is to be 
 known : what it is for the experience of spirits, is 
 its whole reality : it is that and nothing more. But 
 the esse of a person is to know himself, to be for 
 himself, to feel and think for himself, to act on his 
 own knowledge, and to know that he acts. In 
 dealing with persons, therefore, there is an unfathom- 
 able gulf between knowledge and reality. What a 
 person is for himself is entirely unaffected by what he 
 is for any other. . . . The essence of a person is not 
 
io6 PHILOSC*>HICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 what he is foi knother, but what he is for himself. , . . 
 All the fallafes of our anti-individualist thinkers 
 come from tak'Sng as though the essence of a person 
 lay in what caA be known about him, and not in 
 his own knowl "ige, his own experience of himself" 
 And " God must 'know the self as a self which has 
 a consciousness, a 4 experience, a will which is its 
 own — that is, as ^^^ being which is not identical with 
 the knowledge tl, ib, He has of it." No doubt God 
 "must have an i^^finitely deeper and completer 
 knowledge of every ^ne of us than any one has of 
 another." " God's thdbght can as little be exactly 
 what our thought is "^s our joys and sorrows can be 
 exactly what His are*^ "God must, it would seem, 
 know other selves by^ the analogy of what He is 
 Himself . . . His knowledge of other selves may be 
 perfect knowledge without his ever being or becoming 
 the selves which He knows." Is God, then, finite? 
 Well, " everything that is real is in that sense finite. 
 God is certainly limited by all other beings in the 
 Universe, that is to say, by other selves, in so far 
 as He is not those selves. He is not limited . . . 
 by anything which does not ultimately proceed from 
 his own Nature or Will or Power. That power is 
 doubtless limited, and in the frank recognition of this 
 limitation of power lies the only solution of the 
 problem of Evil which does not either destroy the 
 goodness of God or destroy moral distinctions alto- 
 gether. He is limited by His own eternal . . . 
 nature — a nature which wills eternally the best which 
 that nature has in it to create. . . . The truth of the 
 world is then neither Monism, in the pantheizing 
 sense of the word, nor Pluralism: the world is 
 neither a single Being, nor many co-ordinate and 
 independent Beings, but a One Mind who gives 
 
PERSONAL IDEALISM '\ 107 
 
 \ 
 rise to many." The Reality is "a commur^ty of 
 Persons." ^ 
 
 The doctrine which has just been summarized 
 obviously, owes its motive power - mainly g^ the 
 dssure. to preserve the iadependeat personality <wj man. 
 So strpng. is this desire that its exponer^ta^ , or .^t 
 least some of its exponents, are willing to: fall bacU 
 uaQn.^aJde&„of_^:,.Jaife God, though ah atteinpt 
 is made .to^shQ^iK.. that, the finitude. ascribed/ to God is 
 iS^harmony ..witb.«tkas.Xelig.iatta. . CQ0,p^ciojj^iess,^ The 
 philosophical basis of the doctrine is t^ve familiar 
 1Jieojry„_ that all reality may be, ,. resolve^ into the 
 experiences of conscious beings, Jhese, ixperienc^ 
 being, conceived as. the states of separate individuals. 
 Whatever exists is in some sense conscious, as 
 Leibnitz long ago maintained, — though there are 
 many degrees of consciousness, and it is even 
 admitted that self-conscious personality is not found 
 in any being lower than man, nor in its perfection 
 even in the most developed human consciousness, 
 but only in God. 
 
 Now, though this doctrine calls itself Idealism, it 
 is not identical with what I have called Speculative 
 Idealism : on the contrary, it is in one sense the 
 exact opposite. !gersonal Idealism is„ in its funda- 
 Q3£ny^,prmciple_ akin to the Subjective Idealism of 
 Berkeley and Leibnitz ; while Speculative Idealism 
 is biased upon the principle that the universe is ^ 
 t^Hqn^l^ system, ,„which cannot be resolved into a 
 qiere:, assembkg;e„ of separate individuals. The former 
 
 ^ The statement of Personal Idealism given above is based upon the 
 article on "Personality, Human and Divine" contributed to "Personal 
 Idealism" by Mr. Hastings Rashdall, whose theological views, in the 
 absence of any single authoritative exposition, I have ventured to take as 
 representative. 
 
io8 jrtllLOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 ( 
 tnaintiains that nothing is real but what exists in the 
 
 form lM>.f ideas in this or that individual, while the 
 
 latterfj claims that the whole conception of individuals 
 
 as c<nifined to their own subjective states is a fictJofl. 
 
 Tha^wPersonal Idealism is essentially- self-contradictcuy 
 
 does not seem to me doubtful^ nor do, I think. that 
 
 there is any grqat difSculty in meeting the objectioog 
 
 r&ised by^it to Speculative Idealism, which A identifies 
 
 (as I .thliik wrongly) with Absolutism. 
 
 Let us " put ourselves for a moment at the point 
 
 of view cf the Personal Idealist. All that I or any 
 
 other beirfg directly apprehends consists, as we must 
 
 suppose, qf ideas in my mind — ideas which, as unique 
 
 and peculiar, cannot be present in any other mind, 
 
 not even the mind of God, in the sense in which 
 
 they are present to me. Now, if we are to take 
 
 this doctrine strictly, as we have a right to do with 
 
 any philosophical theory, is it not evident that by no 
 
 possible process can any of us ever break through 
 
 the charmed circle of his own separate individuality ? 
 
 What, then, can be meant by other objects or 
 
 individuals, or by God?. My knowledge of them 
 
 must consist in the ideas which arise in me. Nor 
 
 can it even be said that these ideas in some way 
 
 correspond to objects lying beyond my mind, for 
 
 Personal Idealism does not admit the existence of 
 
 any objects other than ideas. No doubt it assumes 
 
 other minds with their special objects, but it does 
 
 not admit the existence of any objects that are not 
 
 ideas in the mind of some individual. Now, if each 
 
 individual is confined to his own ideas, by what 
 
 strange process is he led to imagine that there are 
 
 other individuals besides himself? Is it not obvious 
 
 that such a notion would never dawn upon him at 
 
 all ? But, supposing that it did occur to .him, how 
 
PERSONAL IDEALISM 109 
 
 would he verify the truth of his hypothesis ? His idea 
 of another mind is for him merely his own idea ; and, 
 as he cannot possibly compare his idea with the 
 reality, he can never obtain any knowledge of 
 another mind except by a miracle. In other words, 
 the existence of anyone but oneself is, on the theory 
 of Subjective Idealism, a perfectly gratuitous assump- 
 tion. One defence of the personal idealist is to 
 distinguish between an idea and its content. Though 
 every idea, it is said, is unique and exists only as 
 a state of this or that individual consciousness, that 
 in no way militates against an identity of content in 
 the ideas of different individuals. But the distinction 
 between idea and content, granting its validity, is of 
 no avail in a defence of Subjective Idealism, and 
 that for the simple reason, that an individual who 
 is confined to his own ideas, having no knowledge 
 of the ideas of any other individual, cannot possibly 
 tell anything about the content of those ideas, and 
 therefore cannot know whether they are identical 
 with his ow;n or not. Where nothing is known, 
 there is no distinction of one thing from another. 
 vThe individual, then, as Subjective Idealism must in 
 consistency ^ maintain, knows only his own ideas. 
 Bv*" that is really the same as saying that he does 
 noL know them as his own ideas^ For the con- 
 sciousness of oneself is essentially relative to the 
 consciousness of other selves. Hence the hermetically- 
 sealed individuals of Personal Idealism can have no 
 consciousness of themselves any more than of other 
 selves. For the same reason they can have no 
 consciousness of God. Not only, therefore, is the 
 consistent subjective idealist deprived of all knowledge 
 of others, but he cannot account either for his know- 
 ledge of himself or for his knowledge of God. The 
 
no PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 logical result of the doctrine is, therefore, to destroy 
 the meaning of the contention that all direct know- 
 ledge is of one's own ideas. If knowledge were 
 really what it is declared to be, the personal idealist 
 would never have had any problem to solve ; for, 
 confined absolutely to his own subjective states, no 
 hint of a foreign reality would ever have arisen to 
 disturb his self-centred isolation. 
 
 These simple considerations seem to me to dispose 
 of the claims of £fecsaaai«JUi£alism. to be a true 
 interpretation of our experience ; but perhaps a few 
 words on the religious aspect of the doctrine may not 
 be out of place. God is defined as a person, i.e. "a 
 conscious, permanent, self-distinguishing, individual, 
 active being " ; in other words. He has successive ideas 
 or experiences, maintains his self-identity in them, 
 knows his past and present experiences, distinguishes 
 Himself from all other consciousnesses, and wills an 
 ideal end or good. God, however, as it. is admitted, 
 is the originator of the human and- all other minds, 
 though He is only lhe._ cause of those .experiences 
 which are not willed by other causes. He knows that 
 self-conscious persons exist, but His knowledge does 
 )QOt. affect their independent existQuce. He knp\KS 
 pther selves ju^, as we. do, panjely, "by analogy .jof 
 what He is Himself" And it is admitted that H^Js 
 limited in power, though. He always wills the best. 
 
 The self-contradictory character of this doctrine lies 
 on the very surface of it. To begin with, it assumes 
 that God, like other forms of being, is a separate 
 individual, limited to His own experiences, and incap- 
 able of exercising any influence upon other self-involved 
 individuals. The same objection therefore applies here, 
 as we have already seen to beset the general theory of 
 Personal Idealism, namely, that, confined within His 
 
PERSONAL IDEALISM in 
 
 own individual mind, so far from being omniscient, God 
 cannot have any knowledge whatever, either of other 
 beings or of Himself. Again, it is affirmed that God 
 wills those experiences of other minds which are not 
 willed by themselves. But, if God is limited to His 
 own ideas, how can He will anything but those ideas ? 
 Apparently, the only reason for attributing certain 
 experiences of other beings to God is that they are not 
 willed by these beings themselves; which is very much 
 like Spencer's reason for givina to the Unknowable the 
 name of God, namely, that he did not see what else it 
 could be. Is it really necessary to point out that, as 
 all experiences of individuals, whether willed or not, 
 belong solely (according to subjective idealism) to the 
 individuals themselves, those experiences cannot without 
 contradiction be ascribed to God by thinkers whose 
 fundamental principle it is that nothing exists except 
 what is experienced by individuals ? What, then, can 
 possibly be meant by speaking of God as willing the 
 " world " ? The " world," as we are told, is admittedly 
 " the object of God's thought/' i.e. it consists of His 
 individual states of consciousness or experiences. To 
 will these, however, is merely to will certain experiences 
 of His own, and such experiences must be entirely 
 distinct from the ''world" itself, i.e. from the experiences 
 of other beings. Open as the personal idealist is to 
 this objection, it is not surprising that he should be 
 forced to admit that God is finite in power, though he 
 still clings to the notion that He is infinite in 
 knowledge. We have already seen that God cannot 
 be shown by Subjective Idealism to be omniscient, 
 for the simple reason that He cannot be shown to have 
 any knowledge whatever ; and it is equally obvious that 
 He cannot be omnipotent, because He can have no 
 power whatever. We are told that He brings other 
 
112 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 individuals into existence, though, when they come 
 into existence. He no longer influences them. Now, 
 on the theory of Subjective Idealism, nothing exists 
 except minds and their experiences. The creation of 
 finite minds must therefore mean the production of 
 these minds, together with their experiences ; and if so, 
 the experiences also must be referred to God, since 
 they have no existence apart from the minds to which 
 they belong. But this is precisely what the bold 
 assertion of God's limited power was meant to avoid ; 
 and hence the self-contradictory doctrine of an 
 omniscient being, who yet is limited in power, involves 
 the further self-contradiction of a being who originates 
 minds which are completely independent of their 
 originator. It is hardly necessary to add that the. 
 conception of a finite God cannot possibly be a- final 
 explanation of anything, since it is perfectly compatible 
 with., any 4i,uxnher„..Qf. finite. Beings higher .jfchan, .itself ; 
 and. that it cannot satisfy the religious consciousness, 
 which demands,, not an Eire Suprimey but a Spirit with 
 whom we may come into direct contact, and , find 
 support in our lives* 
 
 In what has been said, it must not be supposed that 
 the object has been to discredit the main thesis of 
 Personal Idealism, that man must be conceived as a 
 person, and that only in God is personality in its 
 highest form realized: >vhat I have attempted to show 
 is that personality in any ^ proper sense cannot^-Jae 
 identified 4vith. abstract individuality, or defended by 
 the methpcL of subjective .id.ealis^ The only, basis 
 of personality is that which takes proper accouoL.xif 
 the inseparable connection of all forms of existence iij 
 the whole, while maintaining that the consciousness 
 of this inseparable connection and of the unity of all 
 forms of existence in the whoLe. is grasped . by JtOiuj 
 
THE NEW REALISM 113 
 
 iiu^virtue, of .his. participation in the reason vduch 
 constitutes, th^. true.,, nature of the whole. Personality, 
 whether in man or, God, .therefare. presupposes the ta1;aJ 
 manifestation of a single self-determining principle. 
 Xh^^iJal^ defensible-- conception. -x>f- God is that.whicb 
 §fi£a,in„ Him „the self-manifestation and. s^lf-knowledga 
 qL absolulfijceasaa, — a self-manifestation, and^self-inow- 
 Jedge „„wludx.-.are™.unintelligible on any theory .that 
 divides, up Jiie-Oioiverse into a number of self-enclosed 
 individuals. It is through the consciousness of .what 
 is-not-oneself that the consciousness of self is possible 
 aL.^U» and the limitation of a finite being exactly 
 corresponds to the defect in its relations, in the way 
 of knowledge, feeling, and will, to the totality of other 
 beings and to the whole. Complete personality will 
 therefore consist, not in a perfect image of all things, 
 4)ut in a perfect comprehension of, and manifestation 
 in, all things ; in other words, God can be shown to be 
 a person only if it is established that He is not shut up 
 within Himself, but completely expresses. Himself in 
 the universe, and Jn,. that., expression reaches . perfect 
 ^jalfrcomprehension. 
 
 The fundamental defect in Personal Idealism, which 
 I have endeavoured to point out, has given occasion 
 for a theory which is vitiated by the opposite defect. 
 When reality is reduced to states of consciousness in 
 this or that individual, it is naturally pointed out that 
 such a doctrine is based upon an arbitrary abstraction, 
 which sets at defiance the actual nature of our 
 experience. This is the attitude of the exponents of 
 the New Realism. The objects of our knowledge, as 
 they contend, cannot be identified with ideas in the 
 individual mind, even if those ideas are regarded as 
 sensations reduced to order and coherence by concep- 
 tions. Nor can the time-honoured distinction of 
 
114 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 primary and secondary qualities be accepted, at least 
 if the former are attributed to things, while the latter 
 are regarded as merely sensations with nothing objective 
 corresponding to them. There is in all cases a sharp 
 distinction between consciousness and its objects. My 
 consciousness of an external object, such as a tree, 
 ■cannot be identified with the existence of that object : 
 the object exists whether I am conscious of it or not 
 And the same thing applies to what occurs in my 
 organism. My feeling of hunger is one thing, the state 
 of being hungry is another and a totally different thing. 
 Similarly, my thought that 2 + 2 = 4 is not the same 
 thing as the truth that 2 + 2 = 4. Thus, no matter 
 whether I have a perception, feeling, or conception, 
 there is always a distinction between my idea and the 
 object of which it is the idea. It is a mere confusion 
 of thought, it is said, first to identify real objects with 
 subjective states of consciousness, as Idealism does, 
 and then to infer that there is no real world other than 
 those states. Nor does it make any essential difference 
 to say that reality is not given in immediate perception, 
 but is the product of the conceptual activity of thought ; 
 for this modification of the doctrine does not get rid of 
 the fundamental defect, that the objective world is 
 regarded as having no existence apart from the 
 individual mind which constructs or constitutes it. 
 Is it not perfectly plain, argues the realist, that every 
 idea has a character of its own which distinguishes 
 it from its object ? Thus, space as an object is essen- 
 tially extension or outwardness-of-parts ; but my idea of 
 space has no extension or outwardness-of-parts. Weight 
 as an object implies the attraction of extended 
 particles, whereas it is absurd to speak of my conscious- 
 ness of weight as made up of extended particles 
 attracting each other in proportion to their mass and 
 
THE NEW REALISM nS 
 
 inversely as the square of the distance. Green is a, 
 colour; but my idea, of green is not itself green, 
 pleasure is always pleasant, but not so my Mea qC 
 pleasure. How, then, can anyone doubt that there is 
 " a, .r,^a,lity,qilite. distinct from Jjip , s.ubject,iv.e world of 
 oujc.. direct experience?".. Idealiaax Js,.Jfch£i:gfexe_. an 
 utterly untenable theory of existence. 
 
 Now, iL is obvious, from the whole character of 
 the attack, that ^a,t,. the New :-Realism. means.. by 
 Idealism is the doctrine which we have discussed 
 under the name of Personal Idealism, or at least. is 
 5Q,me form of Subjective Idealism kindred in. nature 
 to it The gist of the whole argument is, that reality 
 cannot be resolved into states of consciousness, or ideas 
 which arise in the mind of this or that individual. 
 In this contention the New Realism is not only in 
 harmony with common sense, but it may count upon 
 the support of Speculative Idealism, which differs from 
 Subjective Idealism in almost everything but name. 
 ]g^ality is certainly not reducible to ideas of the 
 individual mind ; so far we must agree with the 
 realist. Does it follow, as he contends,, that there is 
 an absolute distinction between ideas and objects ? 
 
 Let us begin with the case of an external object, 
 say a tree. The position of the realist is that my 
 idea of the tree is one thing, and the existing tree 
 \s another and a different thing. The tree does not 
 cease to exist when I lose consciousness of it, or 
 come into existence when I again have an idea of 
 it. And the same thing is true of all other conscious 
 subjects, human or divine : nothing can obliterate the 
 fundamental distinction between the idea^of a thing 
 and the existence of that .thing. 
 
 Now, there is of course no possible doubt that 
 my consciousness of a tree or any other external 
 
J^IL^ 
 
 ii6 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 object does not bring it into existence. But the., real 
 Qiiestip^, is, not whether .the tree "exists," but what 
 is meant by its " existence." To answer this question 
 we must ask what is involved in our knowledge of 
 the tree ; for the only tree of which we can say 
 anything is one that falls within our knowledge.V^) Ji 
 is-^ said that, the idea of the tree is independent, of 
 the tree .as .it- exists^ If this statement is taken 
 seriously, it must mean that my^^ide^'' is a certain 
 fact, arising within my ,mindr and arising without 4n 
 any . way coming into, contact, with- the .existing tree. 
 What is the character of this "id£a''?(^As it. J^ 
 purely mental^, it must, as I suppose, be held to. 
 be inextended and immaterial, whereas the tree. is 
 extended and ..material.- V But, even so, if I have a 
 knowledge., of the. tree, I, must obtain, that knowledge 
 in some way .through my " idl^^^gtSft**' 5'As these -are 
 excluded .fram the tj^^e, they /nu^t in some.sensQ 
 be images, or representations of. the tree, not ,the.. tj:e& 
 itself WThus . I .have., no direct knowledge of Jiie 
 tee, at all. But if not, how . can . I know that my 
 image or idea of the. tree is .9., correct representatipjj 
 of it? nay, how do I know that there is any treeil 
 If I am limited to my ideas, ..how ..shall l. get 
 beyond thegi.? Evidently the realist is after all only 
 a less logical, subjective ideaUgf. And the reason 
 why he lies open to the same criticism as the sub- 
 jective idealist is, that Hke him .he has _set , up .tfag; 
 pure fictioo of a mind . which j>ossesses idt3,s^ .^n^ 
 as a man may possess a piece of property, -these 
 ideas being figured after the pattern of images refleQl;ed 
 in a mirror. But there are no such "ide^.^." Wb.eiJ 
 J perceiye a tree, my perception is no image in my 
 mind, while the tree is beyond my mind, but I 
 gs^U^Uy perceive a real object, which ., I - name -a-tree. 
 
THE NEW REALISM 117 
 
 It may be objected that the tree exists when I do 
 not perceive it, and therefore is independent of my 
 perception of it. But " exists " in what sense ? It 
 is natural to suppose that the tree is a single 
 individual thing, which would exist and be what it 
 is even if all other things were annihilated. But 
 it requires very little reflection to see that a tree 
 of this character is a pure fiction. Every tree has 
 begun to be, and none has originated from itself 
 ^pr is there any tree which will exist for ever, or,- 
 which could exist at all but for the totality of forces, 
 which operate in the universe. If we trace our tree 
 back to its conditions, we are led to see that its 
 existence is involved in the existence of the whole 
 universe, .and that unless the whole universe conspired 
 jio support it, it would shrivel into nothingness. When, 
 therefore, we speak of the existence of the tree, we 
 ^re tacitly affirming the existence of the whole universe. 
 The subjective idealist would have us believe that the 
 universe means for us the ideas which arise in our 
 individual minds. Against this doctrine the realist 
 rightly protests, but unfortunately he bases his protest 
 on wrong grounds. He claims that ideas in the 
 individual mind are incommensurable with objects 
 beyond the individual mind ; overlooking the fact 
 that, in admitting the existence of purely subjective 
 ideas, he is tacitly affirming that objects beyond the 
 mind are unknowable. In point of fact there are 
 no "ideas" such as he assumes. What, then, gives 
 plausibility to his contention that there is a distinction 
 between the ideas of this or that man and the objects 
 of which they are ideas? The existence. ^pf. an. objeqt 
 [s made possible only by the whole universe of which 
 jt is, but a jrelatively ins^ificant aspect. To identify 
 tha.. object witb-^..the. perception of it on the part of 
 
ii8 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 this or that iiidividiial would thexefore be equivalent 
 to ^saying ..that the transient activity of a particuiaj; 
 individual was identical with the total activity of the 
 universe* But, though it is not dependent for its 
 .existence upon the perception of the individual, the 
 pbjact. would not be what it is were it not capable 
 of being presented to the individuaL^-Jjo-^thac^jacatds, 
 i^,- existence is , bouod^ up with .its., possible xeidXiw 
 to the perceiving subject. For the character of his 
 perceptions, like the properties of the object, is deter- 
 mined by the total nature of the universe ; and were 
 it not so, the object would be no object for him. 
 And as the relations of the object to his perceptions 
 are constant and invariable, he rightly concludes, when 
 his perceptions are the same, that the object is the 
 same. Thus his knowledge of the existence of the 
 object is the comprehension on his part of the immuta- 
 bility of the object under the same conditions. Its 
 " existence " consists in its permanence under the same 
 conditions, and among those conditions the most 
 significant for the perceiving subject is identity in 
 his successive perceptions. 
 
 From wh3i- has bpen said the inadequacy of ihe 
 realistic account of reality is manifest. . Rightly insisting. 
 4iiat.„ihe,. world, cannol be ^reduced, to .ideas in the 
 individual mind, .it plays into the hapdsof the en^rr^y 
 by granting^. to_ hijn;i that our knowledge of things ja^y 
 he re^oly.ed..Jfita...suc:h . ideals. Speculative Idealism 
 denies this assumption, jnaintaioing that the conditions 
 of the existence of anything whatever are the same 
 as the conditions of knowledge : that just as no 
 object can exist except in so far as its existence 
 is guaranteed by the whole universe, so pp knowledge 
 iS—PQ35ihls^. except Jn.^ so^ Jar. as it- is made., possible 
 by the organic unity of na^ture^ and mind^^^IiJs Jxue. 
 
THE NEW REALISM 119 
 
 tbat—this—organic-- unity is never completely knjDwn 
 Yjy .„ua ; but. that...in_ no way invalidates., the ^incipk, 
 that^it Js...Just -in. so far as the organic unity ,xif 
 alL-the. .phases of oui:. experience zs known, that we 
 comp££hfia(i.-J:he- real- nature-- of ,.the..world,™and,..of 
 jajirs£ly£S. Thus we come JaaGk^to^ the conclusion at 
 ^ hich w e had previously arrived, that every , step ia 
 ,th£_ .development of our experience is a farther 
 j:evdatiaQ.J3lJiie self-determinant Spirit which, enfolds 
 jji.jiiQ^g^QLexist§ace from the lowest to the highest. 
 
 If I have succeeded in making plain the form of 
 Idealism which seems to me defensible, there can 
 be no great difficulty in disposing of the other 
 instances given by the realist in support of his 
 contention that ideas and objects have an existence 
 quite independent of each other. That this is not 
 true in the case of the perception of external objects 
 we have seen ; for these ^ould not be- what they 
 are, were they. „45LQt,..rd^^d to. perception in certain 
 fi,5^.(i„ and.^ micbanging ways. The realist, however, 
 also contends that even in the case of what is 
 usually regarded as a purely subjective affection, there 
 is a distinction between the subjective idea and the 
 object of which it is an idea. Thus, my feeling of 
 hunger is an idea in my mind, whereas the hunger 
 is an objective state of my organism. 
 
 Now, there can be no difficulty in dealing with 
 such an instance as this. My feeling of hunger, it 
 is said, is distinct from the actual condition of hunger ; 
 in other words, the feeling is a mode of my individual 
 consciousness, the hunger is not. One reason given 
 for this contention is, that the existence of the hunger 
 in me may be known by others while no one but 
 myself can experience the feeling. And of course 
 this is perfectly true. But the question is, whether 
 
I20 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 the feeling of hunger and the actual hunger are 
 independent in the sense claimed by the realist If 
 the feeling is separable fronn the actual state, it must 
 have a subjective object distinct from that which it 
 represents ; otherwise it would not be the feeling of 
 hunger. How, then, can the transition be made from 
 this internal object to the external state? It must 
 be because the content of the feeling stands for, or 
 represents, the external state. But if the individual 
 is thus limited to his feeling, how does he know 
 that there is any external state corresponding to it? 
 Is it not plain that, by interposing an image between 
 .the subject and the supposed object, the avenue out- 
 wards. is„ blocked? Thus, once more, we see „that 
 realism is. merely an arrested solipsism. 
 
 Whaty. then, in the present instance misleads the 
 realist? Why does his assertion of the distinction 
 between the feeling of hunger and the actual state 
 of hunger sound so reasonable? The answer is not 
 far to seek. Hungej:^,^^ .3.n actual condition of the 
 .organism cannot be identified^ with the feeling jq£, 
 hungerj because by Jhe ..former „. is meant _a certain 
 effect .XDJiditioned „by^ non-sensitive . processes, while 
 by Jthej^itsrjs. meant. tke response of the. organi.sia 
 AaJar as it ^is^. aensitive. To. identify the one wjth 
 the other is manifestly impossible. But while this is 
 true, it must be added that the feeling of hunger as 
 such gives no knowledge of hunger as a state of 
 the organism. The knowledge of hunger consists in 
 the interpretation of the feeling by reference to all 
 that is known of the organism. Now, such know- 
 ledge implies a very considerable advance in the 
 comprehension of the real world, since it means that 
 the real world is grasped, n ot only as a physical 
 system, but as a system comprehending within it 
 
THE NEW REALISM 121 
 
 organized as well as unorganized beings. To. reduce 
 the knowledge of hunger tp , the passing, state of the 
 individual-would therefore he even more absurd than 
 to explain the existence of such an external object 
 .aa a tree by immediate^- -sensatiofk^- for, as that 
 Jcnowledge implies the comprehension of organic, as. 
 w^^as iQorganic things,, it marks a further stage^„ijX 
 the comprehension of the universe as a whole. 
 Hunger cannot be reduced to the feeling of hunger, 
 because it is the state of a living being, which could 
 not exist were not the world not only a system, but 
 a system making possible the existence of living 
 beings, and therefore of the feeling of this particular 
 living being, as. occurring under these and no other 
 Gonditions. The reality of hunger as a fact therefore 
 means the reality of a universe containing organized 
 beings which respond to stimuli in certain fixed ^' 
 ways ; and it is the knowledge of this fact which 
 guarantees for us the reality of hunger as something 
 that is not made by our feeling, but of which our 
 feeling is the sign. If therefore we eliminate all that 
 is implied in such knowledge, we destroy at the 
 same time the basis upon which our judgment of 
 hunger, as an object, rests ; for no feeling, taken in 
 its abstraction, is the guarantee of anything. 
 
 The remaining case of arithmetical or geometrical 
 judgments is easily disposed of The realist contends 
 that the truth of two and two making four is 
 distinct from my consciousness of it. So far as this 
 means that the truth in this case is not merely an ^ 
 idea in my head, he is undoubtedly right Two and 
 two are four, whether I think so or not. But on 
 what ground do we base this objective truth? In 
 the first place, we have to observe that such judgments 
 take us beyond our immediate sensible experiences. 
 
122 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 Two and two are not things that we can perceive 
 with our eyes, or touch with our fingers : they are 
 conceptions, which we grasp with our intellect. Now 
 it is the character of every conception that it is not 
 ^ mere individual, but is universal in the sense that 
 it is potentially infinite, i.e. is applicable to all 
 pDjssible instances. When I think of two, I mean, 
 as Aristotle long ago pointed out,^ not this two, but 
 every possible two ; and when I judge that 2 4-2 = 4, 
 I mean that every possible two added to other two 
 
 - makes four. On the other hand, this particular truth 
 is ..not one-, which is true in its _ isolation, J t- implies 
 
 ^ .an arithmetical system, apart from which it would 
 not be true. The basis of that system is the 
 absolute identity of every unit in the system of units, 
 the equality of any sum of units with the synthesis 
 of all the units taken individually. Not only, there- 
 fore, does the judgment, 2 + 2 = 4, imply that any 
 possible two added to any other possible two is four, 
 but that any possible number of units added to any 
 other possible number is equal to any possible 
 number of units taken individually. The truth,, then, 
 pf any sum of numbers, and indeed of the whole of 
 the arithmetical and algebraic operations, presupposes 
 the unchangeable identity of units in a system., of 
 units ; and this, again, presupposes that every in- 
 telligent subject who is capable of comprehending 
 what is meant by a unit must agree in accepting 
 the arithmetical judgments which express, what -,is 
 implied, in a system of units. The conception of a 
 unit, though it is not the express comprehension of 
 an arithmetical system, really presupposes it ; so 
 that, if the system is denied, the unit ceases to have 
 any meaning. It is thus obvious .tbc^t,. the truth, of 
 
 '^ Posterior Analytics J 'Jla, 30 ff. 
 
THE NEW REALISM 123 
 
 the simplest arithmetical judgment implies an arith- 
 pietical system capable of being grasped by every 
 jrational being. Now, when it is recognized that 
 there is a fixed system of units, and a corresponding 
 identity in the thought of every rational being, it 
 would plainly be absurd to affirm that the truth of 
 an arithmetical judgment is dependent upon its 
 acceptance or rejection by this or that individual. 
 The., judgment is one that must be accepted by every 
 thinking being who understands what it means, and 
 .that- because it is the expression of an element in a 
 self-consistent whole,, the denial of which would make 
 ^every arithmetical judgment unmeaning. j^The in- 
 dividual, in making a particular arithmetical judgment, 
 tacitly accepts the whole system of such judgments ; 
 and unless he does so, he virtually falls into the 
 contradiction of at once affirming and denying the 
 truth of the particular judgment which he makesj 
 
 The realist, however, affirms more than this : he 
 maintains that the truth of our arithmetical judg- 
 ments is one thing, and our arithmetical judgments 
 another thing. Now, this can only mean that when 
 I make a particular arithmetical judgment, I have 
 before my mind an idea of, say, two units, together 
 with the idea that they are to be added to other 
 two units, and that I then pass to another idea, viz. 
 the judgment, 2 + 2 = 4. The realist - is evidently 
 under the illusion that I can frame an image of two. 
 groups of „ units, which are to be combined, and that 
 my mirid may then make the transition to a more 
 complex image, in which the two groups are presented 
 aa.. united, in a larger group. But this, view is based 
 upon the untenable assumption, that units are images. 
 No doubt there are images in many cases, but these 
 are ^OTply... signs .of what is, not, and cannot be, 
 
124 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 imaged, namely,, abstract units, grasped by thought 
 a,s„,TOJyersals or infinite^ possibilities. Now, since the 
 true units cannot be imaged at all, there are no 
 ideas of units such as the realist supposes : in making 
 the judgment, the mind is stating what holds good 
 for every mind and holds good under all possible 
 conditions. If the realist were right in supposing 
 that " ideas," in the sense of " images," were the sole 
 pbject with which the mind operates, it is easy tQ, 
 show that no true judgment could possibly be made. 
 An Image is necessarily particular and transitory, and 
 therefore cannot have a universal applicatioja. But, 
 when we judge that two and two are four, we do 
 not mean that the images of two and two and the 
 image of four are the same image (which is obviously 
 yntrue): what our judgment means is, that these or any 
 other two units added to other two are four; and thi^ 
 judgment presupposes the comprehension by thought 
 of an absolute or unchangeable arithmetical system. 
 
 Perhaps it may be objected, that while this view 
 explains the universality of arithmetical judgments, it 
 does not show that this system is applicable to the 
 actual world. For, it may be said, the whole 
 arithmetical system, consistent as it is in itself, may 
 merely have the consistency of an arbitrary fiction. 
 In nature, as Mill argued, there are no objects 
 corresponding to the units of arithmetic ; and hence, 
 even if that system is admitted by every rational being 
 who admits the reality of the unit, this only proves that 
 a self-consistent hypothesis is not self-contradictory : 
 it does not show that arithmetical judgments are true 
 of real objects. 
 
 Now, there is a certain amount of force in this 
 objection, but I do not think that it casts any real 
 doubt upon the objective truth of our mathematical 
 
THE NEW REALISM 125 
 
 judgments. What these judgments affirm is that, in 
 whatever other and more complex ways it may be 
 determined, the world in its aspect as an external > 
 system has a fixed and unchangeable constitution. 
 The world, in other words, is not merely an extended 
 being, but it is extended ; and were it not so, it could 
 not be the rational organism which it can be shown to 
 be. For, if it were not extended, not only could it not 
 be numbered, but all motion and change must be 
 denied, and with these all intellectual and moral 
 process. What the mathematical sciences do is to 
 state the unchangeable conditions involved in there 
 being an extended universe ; and though their judg- 
 ments are inadequate when applied to the higher 
 aspects of the universe, they never cease to be true 
 of the universe in its aspect of an extended reality. 
 The limitation of mathematical judgments to the outer 
 manifestation of the spiritual universe therefore in no 
 way casts doubt upon their objective truth. A world 
 of pure externality is, no doubt, impossible ; but a 
 world without externality, and therefore without motion 
 or change of any kind, is equally impossible. While 
 iL is right to protest against the part being taken 
 fcr..tke_ whole, it must not be' forgotten that without the 
 parts there is no whole. This is the sense, as it seems 
 to me, in which mathematics may rightly claim to 
 formulate what is objectively true. TJ:ie,.r£aliat, on the* 
 other hand, affirms objective truth in a seji^e that \ 
 CaoiUOJt- but regard as indefensible and ultimately 
 jinthinkable. He virtually claims that objects, which 
 ^£ist independently of this or that rational subject, 
 |iave characteristics that belong to them in themselves 
 entirely apart from their relatiai;! to any arational 
 subject.. Now, if this contention, were, sound, there 
 >K9WldcJtie. no basis, for the claim to a real knowledge of 
 
126 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 the world, and no basis therefore for maintaining that 
 the world is the outward form of a self-determia^tiii: 
 reason. For, th^ ground upon which we legitimately 
 jplaim to know the real world is, that, it falls within th^ 
 sphere of our consciousness ; and the ground upoo 
 .which we affirm the reality of a self-determinant. re^goQ 
 js, that no other hypothesis is. compatible with .the 
 .character of the world as . known by ys. Enough has 
 been said on the former point, but it may be profitable 
 to add a few words on the latter point. 
 
 What is claimed by the realist Js_ that tlje:, mathe- 
 matical determination of the world is an adequate 
 characterization of the real world, which by its very 
 nature is independent of all relation to conscious 
 subjects. If this were true, we must suppose that the 
 world is capable of existing, and would be what it is, 
 even if the totality of living and rational beings were 
 annihilated. Now, it is of course true that the world 
 does not depend for its existence upon any finite 
 rational being, and that we can imagine all these 
 annihilated without contradiction. But the question is, 
 whether nature can exist by itself, on the assumption 
 that it is defined simply as an extended being. In 
 answer to this question we must begin by pointing out 
 fhat we have no knowledge of nature as so defined. 
 Our experience presents us with a nature which 
 contains external things of a definite and specific 
 character, and it is only by an effort of abstraction 
 that we are able to strip this many-coloured world 
 of its covering and reduce it to the bare skeleton with 
 which mathematics operates. So far therefore as the 
 world with which mathematics deals is concerned, it 
 is not true that it has any independent reality ; in fact, 
 it exists nowhere but in the minds of the individuals 
 who make it an object of their thought. But, though 
 
THE NEW REALISM 127 
 
 it thus originates in an act of abstraction, we cannot 
 say that there is nothing in the world corresponding 
 to the product of this act; on the contrary, this 
 product is based upon the character of the world 
 of experience. But while this is true, it is also true 
 that the ultimate foundation for our mathematical 
 judgments is the conviction that the world is in- 
 telligible, and therefore that what our intelligence 
 demands must be ; in other words, Jhe constructions 
 Qf,.^the mathematician are true objectively only under 
 the presupposition that the actual world involves a 
 Tatipijal system. I To assume, therefore, as the realist 
 does, that the world as external exists, and has a 
 definite nature, apart from a creative reason, is to 
 assume that the world can exist even when it has 
 been separated from the principle upon which its 
 existence and definite nature are absolutely dependent.' 
 Even if we supposed it possible that there should exist 
 a world which is unintelligible, at any rate it would 
 be for us a " book with seven seals." The claim to 
 {rue or objective mathematical judgments is therefore 
 a claim to the comprehension of a world which 
 constitutes an external system, but which is compre- 
 hensible at all only because that external system, is. 
 iJie true, but incomplete, expression of a universe 
 whkh ?> fi^^pni-ially spixituaL , Tixe, ,ig.alist-takes^ the 
 world., as-4)artially . determined, and then, identifying 
 it-with -this torso of itsel^he claims the ultimate truth 
 oLJbhe,-«GharaGteristics -^expressed, in our mathematical 
 jildgments ;,..ixat-aeeij]ig. that these are. true only on 
 pcesjipposition ,thaL.we- live in. an intelligible universe, 
 ^audJiave in our intelligence the principle manifested in 
 theuiiniMerse, 
 
 There is an objection to the view which I have tried 
 to express which is almost sure to be made. If 
 
128 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 external nature has no reality apart from a creative 
 intelligence, how, it may be asked, are we to explain 
 the fact that prior to the advent of life and intelligence 
 upon the earth, there was, if we are to believe the 
 majority of scientific men, nothing but inorganic 
 nature ? 
 
 An answer to this difficult problem can only be in- 
 dicated. The changes which take place in the world 
 imply the consciousness of time or succession ; without 
 which, indeed, they are inconceivable. Nor is there 
 any valid mode of escape from the difficulty now 
 under consideration in a theory, such as that of Kant, 
 which regards time as merely the form in which we 
 are compelled to order our experiences, because of 
 the finite and sensible character of our knowledge. 
 The objection to this mode of explanation is, that, 
 if pressed to its consequences, it converts the whole 
 of our knowledge into an illusion. Yet there is an 
 underlying truth in Kant's doctrine, which, when it 
 is brought to light and thought out into perfect 
 consistency, may at least help us to solve our 
 problem. There is, as we have admitted, such a 
 thing as succession, i.e. events do follow one another. 
 This does not mean that we have experience of events 
 merely as successive : ^)^. we actually, experience is, 
 that changes take, place, in the world, as. known to 
 us, such that, when we compare one experience with 
 another, .we find that. a new determination of things 
 has. -taken, the place of the. old, And^this, again, 
 implies that the series of events of which we have 
 experience is not a mere series, i.e.'is not an absolute 
 transition from one state to another, but is reaUy 
 a succession of what is not successi)^. The changes 
 in -the world,, in .other .words, are not absolute .jtsapgi- 
 lions. There is , no break in the porit^nuity of the 
 
THE NEW REALISM 129 
 
 y\ror-ld-process^ __.It.ia-.-the. sajjie moxld -.whiojx. persists 
 through, all the chan^ea^- ani.were_it-.jaot so there 
 >vould- be no,- changes- If this ,is , admitted, it.Jis 
 phyipus- that- there can be no- absolute origination or 
 4e&e?LSfi* To suppose that either is possible is to 
 maintain that something may arise from nothing, or 
 pass into nothing ; a supposition which ultimately 
 leads to the conclusion that the whole of reality, 
 as it has come out of nothingness, so it may vanish 
 away into nothingness and literally " leave not a rack 
 behind." Granting, then, as I think we must, that 
 tit^.. universe, has. not sprung out of nothing and cannot 
 pass Jnto nothing, we must regard the changes which 
 go on i,ti_the -World, not as the absolute origination 
 pr destruction of being, but as transformations of an 
 imperishable realitjjv— These^-transformatians^Jio daubt 
 iMQlx&-xhanges. in the. unchangeable.^^ , but not changes 
 \vhich can. be regarded as., qreatipos.^ or. destruqtiQO.^ 
 J^or have-we ^^ any experience of such creations or 
 destructions-;- what we experience ate changes of form 
 which Jeajje*..the. reality unchanged. What, then, is 
 to be said of those great cosmic fihanges, which, if 
 we are to believe our men of science, have resulted 
 in — the__ibrmation of . our . sojar syatemi Whatever 
 view we take of them, I think we shall agree that 
 there has been jux-_jahsDhxte-.QriginatLoja^ but , only a 
 transformation. Therefare, the^appearance of life. and 
 ponsciousness uponuthe earth cannot have been their 
 absolute -.Drigination ; in other , words, the primitive 
 pebular matter must be conceived as involving, foi; 
 9ne who grasped what it implied, all that comes 
 put of it. But as knowledge is in us a process, in 
 which we pass from one phase of reality to another, 
 we naturally fix our attention upon that aspect of 
 the universe in which it presents itself to us as a 
 
 I 
 
I30 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 series of events ; and as we thus observe the series 
 of events, without reflecting upon the permanence 
 which is its correlate, we are wont to speak of a 
 cause as an antecedent, an effect as a consequent. 
 " tfl reality, however, 5..j:a.ug£™iS--.JQ£iver-.an..-antecedeiii:, 
 b ut thQ ^^Xotalit^^ai^ cO'.existeni;^.xonditians,...an£LJie 
 only, .ultiucnate or xeal.. cause , is.. the^- whole, universe. 
 As... the. ..changes -which, occur ,are never originations, 
 thfiL emergence of iifa. and consciousness on our easth 
 is only the- comprehension on the part of finite beings 
 pf the.., unchangeable principle of all reality, which 
 
 has .not,*,itselC origiaatsd- Siace._Jthe-.iuiiversfi.--.as— a 
 
 »diQle.-.xaanot come into Jaeingj the ^..process through 
 which it passes is self-evolved, and .therefore the events 
 .which, from the. point, of , view of > time, we distinguish 
 jas new .states, of the world, are but the expression 
 of its self-activity^r«a Jhi a^ conception of the.- universe 
 as self-cpnipletei.-and..jsjduEreyolving is, ..hQWfiy.er,. incoa- 
 ceivable on the ... supposition that any jiew mode_^ 
 jexistence is an, .absolute origination; and therefore, Jbs. 
 ^ise of life .in the organic ,v^prld and of intelligence 113 
 man is bi;»t tlie gradua.1 niojaifestation and compxehension 
 on their part of .j;hs,„ulj;ilU^^, principle which. givs§ 
 ^meaning .to, .^11.. that is, and without „which nothing 
 ifeai.k.c9Uld^. 
 
 At this point it may be argued that, if all that 
 ever comes to be is already contained in the universe 
 before it comes to be, a complete knowledge of the 
 universe would show it to be absolutely changeless 
 and immovable. That being so, must we not regard 
 the temporal process as not a real process, but as 
 merely our imperfect representation, in the form of 
 process, of that which is devoid of all process ? How, 
 then, it may be demanded, can we escape from the 
 conclusion that individuality and freedom are a mere 
 
THE NEW REALISM 131 
 
 dream ? Are we not forced to say with Spinoza that 
 the only real being is God, and that all apparently 
 real finite beings are but modes of his infinite 
 attributes? In seeking to escape from Subjective 
 Idealism have we not fallen into Absolutism of the 
 most uncompromising kind ? 
 
 Now, there is a specious way of escape from this 
 difficulty, of which Speculative Idealism, as I under- 
 stand it, cannot avail itself The conception of an 
 eternal or infinite self-evolving rational universe, it 
 may be said, is merely an ideal, valuable as presenting 
 us with the goal towards which all things are ever 
 ifnoving, but having no other validity or value. The 
 ideal of knowledge is that of an organic whole in 
 which every element is inseparable from every other, 
 and the ideal of action is that of a universe in 
 which every being, in completely realizing its own 
 nature, fulfils its special function as a member of 
 the whole. The value of this ideal in its two aspects 
 is inestimable as the incentive and goal of all our 
 efforts towards completeness of knowledge and of 
 action ; but it cannot be assumed to be already 
 realized in God. What we mean by God, the 
 Absolute, or whatever term we use, is merely our 
 own ideal, projected as a reality, while in truth it 
 has no existence beyond our own minds. It is, in 
 Kant's terminology, a regulative^ not a constitutive^ 
 Idea. 
 
 Now, it is not to be denied that this solution 
 seems at first sight to provide a way of escape 
 from some of the difficulties connected with the 
 doctrine, that God is a real or objective existence. 
 If God is but the ideal of unrealized possibilities, 
 which we as men set before ourselves as the 
 indefinable goal towards which we are ever moving, 
 
132 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 we are not called upon to explain how there can be 
 any process in that which is already perfect ; nor 
 does there seem to be any special difficulty in 
 maintaining our own freedom and moral responsibility. 
 We know that our knowledge grows from more to 
 more, and we believe that moral progress is con- 
 tinually going on ; and, certain of these two facts, 
 we have, it may be said, all that is necessary for 
 the conduct of our individual life and the progressive 
 organization of society. Why, then, should we 
 gratuitously puzzle ourselves with the self-contradictory 
 doctrine of a universe in which all possibilities are 
 already realized, while yet it is undergoing a process 
 of development? Is it not far simpler to keep 
 strictly , to what we can prove from experience, viz. 
 that the human race continually grows in knowledge 
 and morality, leaving insoluble enigmas alone? Why 
 can we not be contented to accept the conception 
 of God as an ideal, without maintaining His objective 
 existence ? 
 
 What is here meant by an " ideal " ? If I con- 
 struct the fiction of a city in the heavens, inhabited 
 by immortals of human shape, and with the limitations 
 of ordinary humanity, it may be admitted that, though 
 it does not rest upon any solid basis of fact, it yet 
 has distinct value as a picture which helps to bring to 
 light the great spiritual forces which give meaning 
 to our own life. But, if the whole conception of 
 life underlying my fiction is challenged ; if it is 
 maintained that I have not only constructed a mere 
 fairy tale, but one which is in fundamental disharmony 
 with the whole nature of man ; is it not manifest 
 that I must either show that the objection is baseless, 
 or admit that I have constructed a fiction which 
 cannot serve as an ideal because it is essentially 
 
THE NEW REALISM 133 
 
 false to the nature of things? Now, it is the same 
 with the ideal of God. J f -that. ideaLis to serve as-«. 
 the standard by Which our lives may..he. regulated, 
 it must be what our ,4i5;;ea~.- would be if. .aJJ- our 
 possibilities were^ealizedfc-^ -An JdeaL.cannat-be purely 
 gaegative^- we-Giust in . some - sense- be able to^^coxor 
 prehend what completedr.- knowledge would be, or we 
 xaMaU-jbaoac. t>hat - our-^Jeni^wledge is not con^pleta 
 3yt- there can be no meaning in calling knowledge 
 incomplete, unless we are able to comprehend what 
 the txuP^Mb^^^^Pl things |^, (Eliminate., the relation ,^aa* 
 ^Lj3WX- ideas to reality, and the distinction betweeo 
 toSb-^^aaad^Jsk^baod,, ^disapp Therefore, if there 
 
 jg no reality corresponding to our ideal, that ideal 
 will not ^be an ideal of, knowledge, but merely the 
 fiction^^hat beyond what we call knowledge there .is 
 
 a,,pnfiQih1f> form rvf rnnqrinn<;npqq whirfi^ as we believe, 
 ^£>ii1d bring gatigfartinn tn us. But, if that were' 
 
 really the case, our satisfaction would be placed, not 
 in the realization of completed knowledge, but on 
 the contrary in the effort to realize what from the 
 nature of the case could not be realized. The ideal 
 pf completed .knowledge then, Qiust be. the ideal of 
 tllg,cpnipleted.„kaQwLedge of reality orjt, is an empty 
 fictioa. It would thus seem that unless.- the. ideal of 
 knowledge i3 based upon the existence, of a reality 
 J^C5^£Sadiflg^Jta«.Jt. ^tifc^. Jd^l becomes a mere 
 iHjl^^ji,^ But a reality corresponding tO- the. ideal 
 can have no -existence, apart from a perfect intelligence, 
 tecause, as .we have seen above, a reality which, falls 
 beyond intelligence is unthinkable^ Applying the 
 jsame -method to the question of the.- ideal of .action, 
 SKe-.ind. that we- cannot escape from „.the conviction 
 i]iL-an, infinite-- Reason without destroying at ^ouce, 
 fkaovdedge-^and^ morality^- Thus we are thrown back 
 
134 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 upon* the problem of reconciling the objective existence 
 pf the Infinite with the process oL the ..finite, .«and 
 especially of our own- life..-. Is., any solution „pQ§^ib]£? 
 It is well to remind ourselves that, as self-conscious 
 intelligences, we already in a sense possess a know- 
 ledge of the whole. Our life as individuals is no 
 doubt subject to insuperable limitations, but these 
 can be made an object of consciousness, and therefore 
 we can in idea rise above them. The fact that, we 
 are able ..to reconstruct the history of our., solar 
 system,,, while as .individuals our .existence does,, not 
 extend beyond a few decades^ shows that, in the 
 ^ealm of the mind, time and space are not absolute 
 Jimits,. but limits that we transcend in every .thought 
 a;ew>hayfM There is therefore nothing in the con- 
 ception of an Infinite Being which we need regard 
 as unthinkable. Now, the limits of our individual 
 life arise mainly from our ignorance or uncertainty 
 of details. The large outlines of our life we know, 
 though the exact result of every act we learn only from 
 experience. Nevertheless, the result must in all 
 cases be such as the whole nature of the universe 
 demands. At first sight this may seem to bring us 
 within the iron law of necessity; but, as we have 
 already seen, the world is not a mechanical system, 
 but a rational or spiritual organism, and therefore 
 the influences which urge us to action do not operate 
 irrespective of our intelligence and will. Progress in 
 knowledge and morality can therefore only mean tji^ 
 progressive comprehension and realization on our part 
 of what the true nature of things is, or, in theological 
 language, it consists in communion with God.. This, 
 participation in the nature of the Divine is certainly 
 the coming to consciousness on our part of what w^, 
 ceally are; or, other wise, expressed, , it. is the realizar 
 
THE NEW REALISM 135 
 
 tian-*of -the unity of our, spirit with the universal 
 Spirit ; a unity which is not created, by our cpur 
 ^ciousness qt it, but is. based, upon the absolute nature 
 ptf things. Thus we may maintain,, as I think, that 
 smx progress in knowledge and^ morality is „.^QlbiSi& 
 Juit the experience of what we reallj^^aas* 
 
 The view which I am trying to express must not 
 be confused with the absorption of all the finite in 
 the abyss of an absolute Being. It abolished no 
 idistinction : what it does is to maintain that every., 
 distinction, even the most minute, if only we could 
 jtrace it out ^to its ultimate source, would be found 
 Jo be inseparable from the whole spiritual reality, 
 ^nd even in its immediate forni reveals, though in a 
 yague jind. indefinite way, the principle pf the wb.plp« 
 Hence, as we ascend in the scale of being there is 
 an ever clearer manifestation and realization of the 
 divine unity; and in man, of all the finite beings 
 jve know, that unity is most clearly manifested and 
 post . definitely apprehended. The whole movement 
 of human history, in ,/act, is nothing but the in- 
 creasing comprehension of what nature and man are, 
 when brought .into connection with the principle 
 immanent -in all things. If at first man seems to 
 live in a world that is foreign to him, it yet is true 
 -that the whole -development of civilization-^ .is.- the 
 process by which the rationality of the universe is 
 ever more clearly ^disclosed . to him, as he obtains an 
 ever fuller knc>wledge of the Spirit in whom he 
 "l,i y;gs and moves and has his ^b-^ing^" 
 
LECTURE SIXTH 
 
 THE INTERPRETATION OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 
 
 With the last lecture we concluded the consideration 
 of those views which recognize the importance of a 
 connected system of ideas to the complete formulation 
 of religion. The most satisfactory attempt to construct 
 such a system, as we contended, is that which may 
 be called Speculative or Constructive Idealism, which 
 seeks to unite the elements of truth contained in the 
 opposite doctrines of Personal Idealism and the New 
 Realism, while avoiding the elements of error with 
 which they are infected. Personal Idealism accentuates 
 the important truth that the higher interests of man 
 can only be defended by the recognition of his free- 
 dom and personality ; but it falls into the mistake 
 of affirming the separation of the individual in his 
 existence from all other individuals, and even from 
 God, and thus makes any real knowledge on his part 
 impossible ; while at the same time, in maintaining 
 the isolation of God from all other beings, it is forced 
 to deny His infinity. The New Realism rightly denies 
 that reality can be reduced to individual experiences, 
 but it errs in affirming the separate and independent 
 existence of individual objects, and thus lies open to 
 the objection that, as knowledge is supposed to consist 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 137 
 
 in subjective states of consciousness, we can have no 
 real knowledge of anything, not even of ourselves. 
 Speculative Idealism, endeavouring to avoid these 
 opposite pitfalls, claims that the personality of man 
 presupposes the process by which the subject knows 
 and realizes himself, not in separation from the world 
 and God, but in the comprehension of both as in- 
 separably bound up with the consciousness of himself. 
 Man is capable of overcoming the world, because in 
 it he discerns the operation of the principle of reason 
 which constitutes his own true self, and because in 
 realizing that self he is in harmony with the universal 
 reason ; he is capable of union with God, because 
 there is no aspect of the universe which is not the 
 more or less explicit expression of the Divine Reason. 
 
 Now, it was pointed out in our opening lecture, 
 that besides the doctrines which seek to build up a 
 system of ideas, there is another view, which attaches 
 supreme importance to the religious consciousness of 
 the individual, and either minimizes the value of all 
 doctrinal systems, or even denies that any such system 
 can be constructed at all. Various modifications of 
 this general theory have found favour in our own 
 day ; the main line of cleavage being between that 
 which treats the religious consciousness as an object 
 of psychological consideration, to be studied in the 
 same way as any other phenomenon, and that which 
 starts from the basis of historical Christianity, As 
 a representative of the former, I propose to consider 
 the view advanced by Mr. William James in his recent 
 brilliant work, The Varieties of Religious Experience; 
 and of the latter, the principle underlying Professor 
 H'arnack's Das Wesen des Christentums, familiar to 
 English-speaking readers under the title, What is 
 Christianity ? 
 
138 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 Whatever conclusion we may reach in regard to 
 the value of Professor James* philosophy, or want 
 of philosophy, there can be no doubt as to the great 
 debt which we owe him for his zeal in the collection 
 and interpretation of psychological material, and for 
 the marvellous skill and sympathy with which he 
 has presented the most divergent types of religious 
 experience. We find in his book a graphic picture 
 of the inner consciousness of " all sorts and conditions 
 of men," including Christian scientists, rationalists, 
 mystics, and others ; and it is impossible to avoid 
 being touched, and not unfrequently painfully touched, 
 by the pungent records of religious experience which 
 he has brought together. Whether injustice is not 
 done to religion by the selection of confessions, which, 
 as our author admits, are saturated with sentiment, 
 we shall afterwards consider ; meantime, it will help 
 us to a final estimate of the value of his work if 
 we first consider the general method which it at once 
 presupposes and illustrates. That method is one 
 which is now familiar to us all, under the name 
 of Pragmatism. 
 
 If it has not been directly affected by the Critical 
 Philosophy, Pragmatism at least exhibits a certain 
 analogy to one phase of it — that in which supreme 
 importance is attached to the practical as distinguished 
 from the theoretical reason. The abrupt contrast of 
 these two forms of consciousness in Kant naturally 
 led to divergent views in his successors. One class 
 of thinkers, representing what has been called " natural- 
 ism," cut the knot by denying in toto that we can 
 determine anything in regard to the region lying 
 beyond the sphere of sensible experience. At the 
 same time the influence of Kant upon them is so 
 far evident that they admit the existence of a reality 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 139 
 
 lying beyond experience, while they claim that of it 
 we can say nothing except that it is. This is the 
 attitude of thinkers like Huxley and Tyndall, who 
 found a philosophic exponent in the late Herbert 
 Spencer, For all thinkers of this school the sole 
 knowable forms of being are those that can be 
 brought within the mechanical system of nature, 
 and though they claim that what we thus know 
 is the relative and phenomenal, they deny that 
 we can extend our knowledge beyond this limited 
 region, 
 
 A second class of thinkers attack the problem left 
 by Kant in an entirely different way. They maintain 
 that the abstract opposition of the theoretical and 
 practical reason is untenable, and therefore they deny 
 that ultimately there is any fundamental opposition 
 between faith and knowledge. This is the attitude 
 of Hegel and the English Idealists of the older 
 type, Hegel makes two main criticisms of Kant. 
 In the first place, he denies the abstract opposition 
 of faith and knowledge, and therefore the abstract 
 opposition of theoretical and practical reason upon 
 which it is based. In the second place, he maintains 
 that this false contrast is due to the unwarranted 
 assumption that the highest conception involved in 
 experience is that of a mechanical system of individual 
 things. This is the general line of thought that has 
 been followed by English Idealists. The first repre- 
 sentative of this point of view was the late T, H, 
 Green, who endeavoured to develop the positive part 
 of the Kantian doctrine, while refusing to accept the 
 principle of the primacy of practical reason. Green 
 maintained with Kant that our ordinary experience of 
 things presupposes the operation of the distinguishing 
 and combining activity of thought. This being so, 
 
140 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 he claimed that, as the world of experience exists 
 only for a self-conscious being, we must interpret 
 reality as a spiritual, not as a mechanical, system. 
 On the other hand, Green holds that it is only by 
 a gradual process that the spiritual system which 
 constitutes reality comes into existence for us. The 
 world is the manifestation of a spiritual being, but 
 this being must be conceived as an *' eternally complete 
 consciousness,*' which is in no way affected by the 
 process of experience in us. This contrast between 
 the world of experience, as arising for us only in 
 the process by which we gradually come to know 
 it, and the world as it is for the eternally complete 
 consciousness, leads Green to deny that we can be 
 said to know God in an absolute sense. We do 
 indeed know that " the world in its truth or full 
 reality is spiritual," because nothing less will explain 
 the fact of our experience, but *'such a knowledge 
 of the spiritual unity of the world as would be a 
 knowledge of God " is impossible for us, or, as 
 Green roundly puts it, " to know God we must be 
 God." It is evident that Green has failed to justify 
 adequately his contention that there is no opposition 
 between knowable reality and reality as it absolutely 
 is. In another way he restores the dualism between 
 knowledge and faith which he inherited from Kant. 
 Now, Mr. Bradley, in his Appearance and Reality^ 
 has attempted in his own way to go beyond the 
 guarded attitude of Green and to define the Absolute 
 or God. No one has emphasized more strongly than 
 he the infinite complexity of the world, the manifest 
 want of harmony and consistency in our ordinary 
 experience and the impossibility of regarding it as 
 an ultimate determination of reality. Nevertheless, 
 he maintains that we are able in general to define 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 141 
 
 the nature of the Absolute. For, as he argues, our 
 very inability to accept the contradictions which we 
 find in our ordinary experience proves that, real as 
 that experience is, it cannot be regarded as coincident 
 with reality in its ultimate nature. Now, why do 
 we condemn our ordinary experience ? Is it not 
 because it is inconsistent or self-contradictory? But 
 this implies that we always presuppose true reality 
 to be self-consistent. Moreover, as nothing can exist 
 that falls entirely beyond all possible experience, the 
 Absolute must be not only self-consistent, but a single 
 or total experience. This, however, is as far as we 
 can go. Ultimate reality is undoubtedly a harmonious 
 whole, an absolute spiritual unity, and if we could 
 put ourselves at the point of view of the Absolute, 
 we should certainly find that the whole complexity 
 of our experience — including science, morality, art, and 
 religion — would be perceived as a single harmonious 
 whole. Mr. Bradley, however, though he grants that 
 there are "degrees of reality" within our experience, 
 refuses to admit that even the highest form of reality 
 known to us is an adequate characterization of the 
 Absolute. 
 
 It can hardly be denied that in this doctrine of 
 Mr. Bradley the opposition between knowledge and 
 faith still survives, and hence it is perhaps not to be 
 wondered at that Professor James should find this 
 form of Idealism unsatisfactory and self-contradictory. 
 He therefore in a sense recurs to the point of 
 view of Kant, so far at least as to maintain that, 
 while we cannot comprehend the true nature of reality 
 by the exercise of the intellect we yet can discover 
 how far the world as experienced by us responds to 
 the claims of our fundamental needs. This view 
 was partly indicated by Lotze, and it has also 
 
142 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 been adopted to a certain extent by Mr. Balfour 
 and others. Our special interest, however, lies in the 
 form which it assumes under the hands of Professor 
 James. 
 
 The main object Mr. James has in view is to 
 "defend the legitimacy of religious faith"; that is, to 
 show that we are in certain cases justified in believing 
 that for which no definite evidence, in the ordinary 
 sense of the term, can be advanced. This doctrine is 
 the precise opposite of that which claims that nothing 
 should be accepted as true which cannot justify itself 
 at the bar of reason. Now, of course, Mr. James does 
 not mean that we are in all cases to take as true what 
 it suits us personally to believe. It may, for example, 
 suit a political leader to believe that every member of 
 his party is scrupulously honest, but he is not justified 
 in taking his wish as equivalent to fact. Again, it 
 would be very pleasant if a man who is roaring with 
 rheumatism in bed could by believing that he was well 
 at once become well, or if a man who has only a dollar 
 in his pocket could convert it by his wish into a 
 hundred dollars ; but it is obvious that in such cases 
 the talk of believing by our volition is simply silly. 
 Indeed, from another point of view it is worse than 
 silly, it is vile. " When one turns to the magnificent 
 edifice of the physical sciences, and sees how it was 
 reared ; what thousands of disinterested moral lives of 
 men lie buried in its mere foundations ; what patience 
 and postponement, what choking down of preference, 
 what submission to the icy laws of outer fact are 
 wrought into its very stones and mortar ; how abso- 
 lutely impersonal it stands in its vast augustness, — 
 then how besotted and contemptible seems every little 
 sentimentalist who comes blowing his voluntary smoke- 
 wreaths, and pretending to decide things from out of 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 143 
 
 his private dream ! Can we wonder if those bred in 
 the rugged and manly school of science should feel like 
 spewing such subjectivism out of their mouths ? The 
 whole system of loyalties which grow up in the schools 
 of science go dead against its toleration ; so that it is 
 only natural that those who have caught the scientific 
 fever should pass over to the opposite extreme, and 
 write sometimes as if the incorruptibly truthful intellect 
 ought positively to prefer bitterness and unacceptable- 
 ness to the heart in its cup. 
 
 * It fortifies my soul to know 
 That, though I perish. Truth is so' — 
 
 sings Clough, while Huxley exclaims : ' My only 
 consolation lies in the reflection that, however bad 
 our posterity may become, so far as they hold by the 
 plain rule of not pretending to believe what they have 
 no reason to believe, because it may be to their 
 advantage so to pretend, they will not have reached 
 the lowest depth of immorality/ And that delicious 
 enfant terrible Cliiffbrd writes : ' Belief is desecrated 
 when given to unproved and unquestioned statements 
 for the solace and private pleasure of the believer. . . . 
 Whoso would deserve well of his fellows in this matter 
 will guard the purity of his belief with a very fanaticism 
 of jealous care, lest at any time it should rest on an 
 unworthy object, and catch a stain which can never 
 be wiped away. ... If a belief has been accepted on 
 insufficient evidence (even though the belief be true, as 
 Clifford in the same page explains), the pleasure is a 
 stolen one. ... It is sinful because it is stolen in 
 defiance of our duty to mankind. That duty is to 
 guard ourselves from such beliefs as from a pestilence 
 which may shortly master our own body and then 
 spread to the rest of the town. ... It is wrong always. 
 
144 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 everywhere, and for every one, to believe anything upon 
 insufficient evidence/ " ^ 
 
 Are we then to conclude that all beliefs are deter- 
 mined by pure reason ? To do so would be to fly 
 directly in the teeth of the facts. In truth we find 
 ourselves believing we hardly know how or why. 
 " Here in this room," says Mr. James, addressing a 
 group of Harvard students, " we all of us believe in 
 molecules and the conservation of energy, in democracy 
 and necessary progress, in Protestant Christianity and 
 the duty of fighting for ' the doctrine of the immortal 
 Munroe,' all for no reasons worthy of the name. . . . 
 Our reason is quite satisfied, in nine hundred and 
 ninety-nine cases out of every thousand of us, if it can 
 find a few arguments that will do to recite in case our 
 credulity is criticised by some one else. Our faith is 
 faith in some one else's faith, and in the greatest 
 matters this is most the case.' " ^ 
 
 Now, in what circumstances are we justified in 
 exercising the "will to believe"? Under what condi- 
 tions does a hypothesis presented to us for acceptance 
 become a belief or conviction ? In the first place, it 
 must be living, not dead ; that is, it must awaken a 
 responsive interest in us, so that we do not at once 
 set it aside as incredible. An hypothesis which has 
 no relation to the individual thinker is dead, and 
 therefore never passes into belief If, for example, we 
 are asked to believe that the Mahdi is a prophet of 
 God, we are presented with an hypothesis which finds 
 no response in us, and which is therefore instantly 
 rejected. In the second place, no hypothesis ever 
 becomes a belief unless the option of believing or 
 rejecting it is forced upon us ; in other words, it must 
 be presented with an absolute alternative. Such an 
 
 ^ James' Will to Believe, pp. 7-8. "^Ibid,, p. 9. 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 14S 
 
 hypothesis is Christianity and Agnosticism. We must 
 accept either the one alternative or the other. And 
 lastly, the hypothesis presented must be momentous^ 
 not trivial. In what cases, then, are hypotheses 
 presented to us which are at once livings forced and 
 momentous ? In the first place, such an hypothesis 
 is the belief in the truth itself, the belief that there is 
 truth and that our minds and it are made for each 
 other. "What is this," asks Mr. James, "but a 
 passionate affirmation of desire, in which our social 
 system backs us up ? We want to have a truth ; we 
 want to believe that our experiments and studies and 
 discussions must put us in a continually better and 
 better position towards it ; and on this line we agree 
 to fight out our thinking lives. But if a pyrrhonistic 
 sceptic asks us how we know all this, can our logic find 
 a reply? No! certainly it cannot. It is just one 
 volition against another, — we willing to go in for life 
 upon a trust or assumption which he, for his part, does 
 not care to make." ^ Nor is the matter different when 
 we pass from the theoretical to the practical sphere. 
 " Moral scepticism can no more be refuted or proved 
 by logic than intellectual scepticism can.'' Moral 
 questions cannot wait for solution upon sensible proof. 
 Science can tell us what exists, but it cannot tell us 
 what ought to exist. Thus "the question of having 
 moral beliefs at all or not having them is decided by 
 our will. ... If your heart does not want a world of 
 moral reality your head will assuredly never make you 
 believe in one." ^ 
 
 Not only in the general belief in truth and good- 
 ness, but in more concrete problems, we are forced 
 to adopt an alternative for which no preponderating 
 evidence can be adduced, and this choice is forced 
 
 ^ James* Will to Believe, p. lo. '^Ibid., pp. 22-23. 
 
 K 
 
146 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 upon us just in those cases that are most momentous 
 for us. In scientific questions we are not thus driven to 
 the wall, because " the option between losing truth and 
 gaining it is not momentous/' and therefore we can 
 afford to miss the chance of gaining truth, and " at 
 any rate save ourselves from any chance of believing 
 falsehoods^ by not making up our minds at all till 
 objective evidence has come." " In our dealings with 
 objective nature we obviously are recorders, not 
 makers, of the truth. . . . Throughout the breadth 
 of physical nature facts are what they are quite in- 
 dependently of us." What difference does it make to 
 most of us whether we have or have not a theory of the 
 X-rays? Here there is no forced option, and there- 
 fore it is better to go on weighing the reasons pro 
 and contra with an indifferent hand.^ But are there 
 not options from which we cannot escape ? Mr. James 
 answers that there are. Such options we have in the 
 case of all moral principles. Here in the absence of 
 proof our " passional nature " must decide. It is the 
 heart and not the head that makes us believe in 
 moral laws. Thus we obtain the general thesis, that 
 " our passional nature not only lawfully may, but 
 must, decide an option between propositions, when- 
 ever it is a genuine option that cannot by its nature 
 be decided on intellectual grounds." ^ Again, while 
 it is true that even in human affairs in general the 
 need of acting is seldom so urgent that a false belief 
 to act on is better than no belief at all, yet there 
 are cases in which our principle applies. Healthy 
 relations between persons demand trust and ex- 
 pectation, and indeed the desire for a certain kind 
 of truth here brings about that special truth's existence. 
 If you assume the nobility of a man, even where you 
 
 1 James' Will to Believe, p. 20. '^Ihid., p. il. 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 147 
 
 have no objective evidence for your belief, you are 
 likely to create in him that quality even if he did 
 not originally possess it. So a social organism of 
 any sort is possible only on the basis of mutual 
 trust. " Wherever a desired result is achieved by 
 the co-operation of many independent persons, its 
 existence as a fact is a pure consequence of the 
 precursive faith in one another of those immediately 
 concerned. A government, an army, a commercial 
 system, a ship, a college, an athletic team, all exist 
 on this condition, without which not only is nothing 
 achieved, but nothing is attempted." " There are, 
 then, cases where a fact cannot come at all unless a 
 preliminary faith exists in its coming."^ There is 
 still another case, and that the most important of all, 
 to which our principle applies, viz., religious faith. 
 Whatever form religion assumes, it at least presup- 
 poses eternal perfection, and yet it is impossible to 
 verify this belief scientifically. Now, here we must 
 presuppose that we have an instance of a living 
 hypothesis. If for any one religion is a hypothesis 
 that cannot by any possibility be true, there is no 
 way of convincing him of its truth ; but where it is 
 regarded as a real possibility, there can be no doubt 
 that religion offers itself as a " momentous " option ; 
 and not only so, but it is a " forced " option, since 
 we cannot escape the issue by remaining sceptical 
 and waiting for more light, because if it is true we 
 lose the good dependent upon it. Hence we are not 
 justified in refusing to make our choice between 
 belief and disbelief We have here the right to 
 believe " at our own risk." " When I look at the 
 religious question," says Mr. James, " as it really puts 
 itself to concrete men, and when I think of all the 
 
 ^ James' Will to Believe^ pp. 24-25. 
 
148 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 possibilities which both practically and theoretically 
 it involves, then this command that we shall put a 
 stopper on our heart, instincts, and courage, and wait — 
 acting of course meanwhile more or less as if religion 
 were not true — till doomsday, or till such time as 
 our intellect and senses working together may have 
 raked in evidence enough, — this command, I say, 
 seems to me the queerest idol ever manufactured in 
 the philosophic cave."^ 
 
 Without attempting anything like a detailed criticism 
 of the doctrine of Mr. James, it may be pointed out 
 that it rests throughout on two assumptions : — Firstly, 
 that nothing can be verified except that which 
 belongs to the sphere of external nature, and, 
 secondly, that there is an absolute opposition between 
 faith and knowledge. Now, it is rather curious that, 
 although Mr. James has described Kant as a " curio," 
 his own doctrine, so far as these two assumptions 
 are concerned, coincides with that of Kant. For it 
 is one of the main positions of the Critical Philosophy^ 
 as we have seen, that knowledge is coterminous with 
 sensible experience ; in other words, with the con- 
 nected system of individual objects which constitutes 
 the world of nature. Holding this view, Kant naturally 
 went on to maintain that all the distinctively human 
 interests, including morality and religion, must be 
 based upon faith. Now, it was pointed out by Kant's 
 immediate successors, and especially by Hegel, that 
 the limitation of knowledge to the system of nature 
 is a purely arbitrary assumption, resting upon the 
 untenable hypothesis that the highest category con- 
 stitutive of knowable objects is that of reciprocal 
 action. Mr. James is involved in the same criticism. 
 His main reason for denying that morality and 
 
 ^ James* Will to Believe^ pp. 29-30. 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 149 
 
 religion can be proved is his tacit assumption that 
 nothing can satisfy the intellect except that which 
 can be expressed in terms of mechanical causation. 
 He seems to forget that the whole sphere of life, 
 not to speak of consciousness, is inexplicable except 
 from a teleological point of view, and that the system 
 of nature itself is ultimately unintelligible unless it 
 is interpreted from the same point of view. 
 
 A similar remark applies to the opposition between 
 faith and knowledge. Even the proposition that 
 there is truth and that it is obtainable by us is held 
 to be beyond all rational evidence. Now, it is of 
 course true that there is no way of proving the 
 possibility of a true judgment by going beyond the 
 whole sphere of knowledge. We can show the falsity 
 of a particular or limited judgment by pointing out 
 that it is inconsistent with some principle, the truth 
 of which is admitted, but we cannot bring truth itself 
 to the test of any higher principle. What we can 
 do, however, is to show that even the denial of truth, 
 since it is a judgment made by us, at least pre- 
 supposes its own truth as a denial. Thus we may 
 fairly argue, that the possibility of truth only seems 
 to be lacking in evidence because it is the source 
 of all evidence."^ 
 
 This preliminary discussion of the pragmatic method 
 will enable us to deal very shortly with Professor 
 James* philosophy of religion. It is not possible, nor 
 is it advisable, that I should attempt to reproduce the 
 rich psychological or biographical material which he 
 has supplied in his eloquent and instructive work. 
 His treatment of the various types of religious 
 
 ^Some remarks on the most recent form of Pragmatism, as expressed 
 in Mr. James' Pragmatism^ will be found in the note at the end of this 
 lecture. 
 
ISO PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 consciousness, and his estimate of their relative value for 
 life, is broad, sane, and sympathetic ; while nothing 
 could well be more fascinating than the vividness and 
 charm of his literary style. What we are specially 
 concerned with, however, is the measure in which he 
 has contributed to the solution of our special problem. 
 This part of his work is as disappointing as the other 
 is satisfactory. At bottom his speculative doctrine 
 comes ultimately to this : that as the intellectual 
 method of philosophy, as ordinarily understood, is 
 abstract and ineffective, the source of religion must 
 be sought for, not in the normal processes of the 
 self-conscious life, but in the obscure regions of the 
 " subliminal consciousness.'' Now, " it is one of the 
 peculiarities of invasions from the sub-conscious region 
 to take on objective appearances, and to suggest to 
 the Subject an external control. In the religious life 
 the control is felt as ' higher ' ; but since it is primarily 
 the higher faculties of our own hidden mind which are 
 controlling, the sense of union with the power beyond 
 us is a sense of something, not merely apparently, but 
 literally true." ^ " We have in the fact that the con- 
 scious person is continuous with a wider self through 
 which saving experiences come, a positive content of 
 religious experience which is literally and objectively 
 true as far as it goes." ^ But what is the positive 
 content of this experience? "The only thing that it 
 unequivocally testifies to is that we can experience union 
 with something larger than ourselves and in that union 
 find our greatest peace. ... All that the facts require 
 is that the power should be both other and larger 
 than our conscious selves. Anything larger will do, if 
 only it be large enough to trust for the next step. It 
 
 ^ James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, pp. 512-513. 
 
 "^ Ibid,, -p. 515. 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 151 
 
 need not be infinite, it need not be solitary. It might 
 conceivably even be only a larger and more godlike self, 
 of which the present self would then be but a mutilated 
 expression, and the universe might conceivably be a 
 collection of such selves, of different degrees of 
 inclusiveness, with no absolute unity realized in it 
 at all." ' 
 
 The fundamental vice of Mr. James' method of 
 interpreting the religious consciousness seems to me to 
 be its abstractness. No one is more emphatic than he 
 in affirming that a theory of religion must be based 
 upon " experience," and no one, as a matter of fact, has 
 made so little use of it. The problem, as he puts it, is 
 to ascertain whether there is any solid foundation for 
 the belief in the " supernatural," i.e. as our author 
 conceives it, in a universe or sphere of being which 
 differs in kind from the world of order and law 
 recognized by science. It is obvious that it is useless 
 to appeal, in support of the existence of such a universe, 
 to those who deny that a realm of caprice and 
 arbitrariness can possibly be real. Hence the scientific 
 man, with his invincible belief in inviolable law, is ruled 
 out of court. Next, the theologian who postulates 
 the existence of an Infinite Spirit is convicted of 
 dogmatism. And, lastly, the philosopher who main- 
 tains that the universe is essentially rational and 
 intelligible is condemned on the ground of his appeal 
 to the ordinary processes of the conscious life. By 
 this ingenious method of exclusion, the appeal to 
 " experience " comes to mean an appeal either to those 
 who have no scientific acquaintance with the world in 
 which they live, or who regard the results of science 
 as contradictory of religion. What is this but to 
 limit "experience" to the intellectually weak and 
 
 ^ James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, p. 525, 
 
IS2 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 unreasonable ? Nor is this all ; for a still further 
 limitation must be made. Even those who, like 
 Professor James himself, are familiar with the world of 
 science, must be excluded on the ground that they are 
 destitute of a ** leaky consciousness." Thus, in the end, 
 it turns out that the only "experience" to which a 
 valid appeal can be made, is the " experience " of those 
 who are of a highly emotional, not to say hysterical, 
 temperament. Such a method, as it seems to me, 
 cannot possibly yield satisfactory results. Nevertheless, 
 our author is not satisfied even yet. Visionaries, like 
 other people, have a wide-awake consciousness, into 
 which distinctly intellectual elements enter ; and, there- 
 fore, they too must be liberated from the too great 
 clarity of their ordinary experience, in order that the 
 "subliminal consciousness" may be allowed the floor. 
 Unfortunately, the " subliminal consciousness " gives 
 forth a very confused and uncertain sound, for no 
 two representatives of it agree in their testimony. We 
 must therefore eliminate the discrepancies. What 
 remains after this repeated process of elimination ? 
 Nothing but the vaguest presentiment that there is 
 something — we know not what — which re-enforces life 
 and brings comfort to its possessor. Perhaps the 
 " something " may be God ; perhaps it may be only a 
 larger and more godlike self; and indeed it is difficult 
 to understand why it should be anything more than an 
 arbitrary product of the mysterious " subliminal " self — 
 if indeed there is any " self," either sub-conscious, 
 conscious, or super-conscious. 
 
 This whole method seems to me unsound. An 
 appeal is made to " experience,*' but, instead of taking 
 it as a whole, it is arbitrarily limited and re-limited 
 until it fades away into the barest and vaguest of 
 abstractions. Mr. James has appealed to Caesar, and 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 153 
 
 to Caesar he must go. If religion is veritably to be 
 based upon " experience," no one is justified in citing 
 only the partial and fragmentary consciousness of this 
 or that individual. A genuine inductive method must 
 fix its eyes upon the whole wealth of experience, 
 refusing to generalize from a mere fragment of it. 
 Virtually to ignore the religious experience of the great 
 majority of mankind, including all the scientific men, 
 theologians and philosophers of our race, is a strange 
 way of seeking for truth. Our author rightly blames 
 those who rashly assume that nothing is real but that 
 which can be compressed within the framework of 
 mechanical law ; but, is it any more defensible first to 
 separate the individual from all that gives meaning to 
 his conscious life, and then to go behind even the 
 conscious life, searching for the key to the riddle of 
 existence in the dark abyss of the " sub-conscious " ? 
 A philosophy of religion which cannot find a place for 
 the whole wealth of experience, including the results of 
 science and philosophical speculation, seems to me to 
 be self-condemned. If religion is a principle of 
 unification, it must unify, not isolate ; whereas the 
 method of Mr. James, instead of seeing in religion a 
 further and higher synthesis than that of ordinary 
 experience and of the special sciences, turns its back 
 upon both, and tries to find in the aberrations of 
 unbalanced emotion the secret of life. No doubt 
 religion is emotional, but why should it be assumed 
 that the emotion must be irrational, if it is to find a 
 place in a true theory of religion ? Our author himself 
 admits that many of the " saints " whose experience 
 he narrates were deficient in intellectual power ; but, 
 instead of drawing the plain inference, that the highest 
 form of the religious consciousness is to be found only 
 in those who have the firmest grasp, intellectually as 
 
1 54 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 well as emotionally, of the facts of life, he rules them 
 out as unworthy to bear testimony at all. 
 
 The inadequacy of the method may be seen from 
 a single instance. St. Paul is admitted to the com- 
 pany of the truly religious, not because of the general 
 sanity of his whole conception of life, but because of 
 his visions ; in virtue of which he takes rank with 
 the crowd of visionaries, whose testimony is relied on 
 as witnesses for the reality of a spiritual world. 
 Surely this is to prefer the accidental to the essential. 
 It is no doubt true that, in men of intense emotional 
 quality, truth tends to project itself in sensible and 
 palpable images, to which they themselves and others 
 are apt to attach undue importance. As a matter 
 of fact, St Paul was too sane to invert values in 
 this irrational way ; what he insisted upon was not 
 his visions but his " prophecy/' Le. his whole view of 
 the meaning of life ; and even the lesser visionaries, 
 to whose experiences Mr. James attaches inordinate 
 value, owed their main influence, not to the erratic 
 forms in which their beliefs were cast, but to the 
 witness of their life and the essential truth embodied 
 in it. 
 
 We are told that there is a sub-conscious con- 
 tinuation of the conscious life, and that there are 
 persons in whom invasions from the sub-conscious 
 life take on an objective appearance, and suggest to 
 the subject of them an external control, which they 
 feel as higher. Now, one may fairly ask in what 
 sense the sub-conscious life is a " continuation " of 
 the conscious life? The conscious life of a man is 
 a " continuation " of the conscious life of a child, 
 but it is the former, and not the latter, which is 
 higher. Is the sub-conscious life, then, higher than 
 the conscious? and if so, why? As Mr. James 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 155 
 
 admits that a great deal which comes out of the 
 sub-conscious life is of the poorest possible character, 
 it is obvious that we cannot conclude that a thing 
 is higher merely because it emerges from the sub- 
 conscious. To me it seems undeniable that the 
 main difference between the sub-conscious and the 
 conscious life consists in the vagueness and inde- 
 finiteness of the former as compared with the latter. 
 The nearest approach to the sub-conscious is when 
 the current of conscious life is at its lowest ebb, as 
 in the case of the temporary exhaustion of the higher 
 nerve-centres, or just before dropping off to sleep. 
 And it is significant that, in either case, what possesses 
 consciousness is a large, vague, fluctuating, indeter- 
 minate " something," with no clearly marked features, — 
 exactly what Mr. James regards as the deliverance 
 of the subliminal consciousness, except that in the 
 latter even the poor minimum of definiteness which 
 still survives has vanished away. It is hard to 
 believe that this invertebrate state of mind is its 
 highest form. Only those who identify the sublime 
 with the indefinite can accept such an inversion of 
 values. To me it seems almost self-evident that 
 mind reaches its highest form in the unity of thought, 
 emotion, and will ; a unity in which there is a 
 perfectly clear, if not always a consciously articulated^ 
 system of ideas. To seek for truth in the dark 
 regions of the sub-conscious is to seek for the living 
 among the dead. Those who, like the late Frederic 
 Myers and Mr. James, try to persuade us that " God 
 gives wisdom to his beloved in sleep," may be 
 reminded of Hegel's sarcastic comment, that whcit we 
 get in sleep is merely empty dreams. 
 
 We are assured that there are persons in whom 
 " invasions " from the sub-conscious life take on an 
 
IS6 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 objective form, and suggest external control. Is this 
 psychological fact to be taken as a valid proof that 
 there actually is *' external control " ? How is the 
 transition made from the belief of these persons — 
 admittedly not the clearest-headed of the race — to the 
 objective reality of their belief? Is every belief which 
 proceeds from the sub-conscious region to be taken 
 as self-evidencing? And if not, by what criterion are 
 we to distinguish beliefs that are true from those that 
 are false? Mr. James does not accept the testimony 
 of the sub-conscious as such, and that for the very 
 sufficient reason, that it is by no means either self- 
 consistent or free from ambiguity. It is very doubtful, 
 in his opinion, whether the " objective reality," to 
 which it seems to bear witness, is a God ; our author 
 rather thinks it is something very much less specific. 
 Now, if the testimony of a witness is found hesitating 
 and doubtful on such a fundamental point, how can we 
 have any faith in it? I can understand the attitude 
 of one who claims that the testimony of the sub- 
 conscious must be accepted implicitly, on the ground 
 that the lower cannot set aside the authority of the 
 higher ; but when it is admitted that this child-like 
 attitude leads to confusion and self-contradiction, 
 we seem forced to seek a way of escape out of 
 an untenable position by falling back upon the con- 
 scious life, and invoking the aid of that very reason 
 which Mr. James finds to be essentially imbecile and 
 irreligious. 
 
 It may not be superfluous to close with a word 
 or two on the question of " experience " as the basis 
 of religion. In the widest sense of the term, a true 
 theory of religion must be based upon religious ex- 
 perience ; for what does not fall within our experience 
 can have for us no meaning. But experience must 
 
 .^ -M 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 157 
 
 be taken in the widest possible sense. We cannot 
 get any fruitful Results by simply describing the 
 '* experience " of this or that individual, in its isolation. 
 To interpret the experience of the individual we have 
 to consider the spiritual medium in which he lives, 
 and the stage in the process of experience as a whole 
 which he represents. For experience is essentially 
 a process. To understand the experience of a St. 
 Paul we must first estimate the experience of the 
 prophets who preceded him and made his experience 
 possible. No doubt the man of religious genius has 
 an unique experience, and adds a new dimension to 
 human life ; but what gives his higher experience 
 its convincing force is that it gathers up into itself 
 the essence of all previous experiences and re-interprets 
 them in the light of a new and more fruitful belief. 
 To adopt the method of Mr. James — to disregard 
 the stage in religious experience represented by the 
 individual, and thus to look upon it as something 
 that cannot be repeated in others — is a vicious method. 
 Nor can the process of religious experience be rightly 
 interpreted except by one who is able to view it in 
 its relations to the total experience of the age in 
 which it appears. The new religious experience 
 transforms men's whole view of life, not merely a 
 part of it, though its total bearing is never fully 
 visible even to the man of genius, but requires, it 
 may be, centuries to unfold in the fulness of its 
 implications. It is here that philosophy is of such 
 eminent service. No philosophy can take the place 
 of experience : it is not life, but a theory of life ; 
 but it can discover wherein the advance to a higher 
 stage consists, and what bearing the new truth has upon 
 other spheres of life. Moreover, philosophy sums up 
 the results of experience, and prepares the way for a 
 
IS8 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 further advance. To set aside the patient labours of 
 reflective thought, as embodied in theologies and 
 philosophies, is a blind and unreasonable proceeding. 
 Surely we may admit that philosophy cannot be a 
 substitute for religious experience without denying it 
 its function in helping to give order and system to 
 the organic process of human evolution. Nor must 
 we forget that clearness of thought is essential to 
 the full development of experience, and therefore is 
 an essential factor in the religious consciousness itself. 
 Take this away, and there is no safeguard against 
 the extravagances and aberrations of religious emotion, 
 which, like all emotion, tends to over-balance itself. 
 It is a gross mistake to suppose that emotion dis- 
 appears, or loses its power, when it is purified by 
 intelligence ; on the contrary, it gains in effectiveness, 
 at least in the long run. I think we are safe in 
 saying that no religious genius of the first rank has 
 ever lived whose insight was not equal to the strength 
 of his emotion. It is the grasp of reality which is 
 the source and measure at once of power of thought 
 and depth of emotion. 
 
 NOTE ON THE PRAGMATIC CONCEPTION 
 OF TRUTH. 
 
 As originally set forth in his Will to Believe^ Pragmatism was 
 in Mr. James' hands little more than a working conception — it 
 might almost be called a " dodge " — by which, in default of scien- 
 tific evidence, one may contrive to live and to turn nature to one's 
 own ends. We cannot, as it is there held, refute the sceptic on 
 theoretical grounds, but we can at least get the better of him in 
 practice ; for, though we have no way of knowing whether we have 
 even partially apprehended the world, not even the sceptic can 
 show that we have not truly apprehended it j and we have always 
 
PRAGMATIC CONCEPTION OF TRUTH 159 
 
 the inestimable advantage over him, that the beliefs on which we 
 act prove or disprove themselves practically in this way, that they 
 either do or do not give satisfaction to our whole nature. The 
 pragmatic method, as thus understood, is " primarily a method of 
 settling metaphysical disputes that otherwise might be inter- 
 minable."^ At the same time it "does not stand for any special 
 results. It is a method only."^ 
 
 After maintaining this guarded attitude for a number of years, 
 Professor James seems at last to have convinced himself that 
 Pragmatism is not merely a method, useful in exceptional cases, 
 but a certain theory of truth ; and it is to the defence of this theory 
 that his recent interesting and suggestive book is mainly devoted. 
 My reasons for regarding this more ambitious form of Pragmatism 
 as unsatisfactory I can only indicate in the shortest way. 
 
 It is now maintained without qualification that an idea is true 
 only in so far as it leads to satisfying and successful experiences. 
 This is the only legitimate sense, as we are assured, in which it 
 can be said that an idea is in " agreement " with *' reality.'' " True 
 ideas are those that we can assimilate, validate, corroborate and 
 verify." 3 Pragmatism therefore denies, firstly, that there is any 
 distinction between the truth of an idea and the proof of its truth ; - 
 the truth of an idea consists in its verification. It also denies, 
 secondly, that there is any distinction between the truth of an idea 
 and its practical usefulness in guiding towards desirable issues ; 
 so that we can say either that an idea is useful because it is true, 
 or that it is true because it is useful. 
 
 I. An idea, as it is argued, is not true because it conforms to 
 reality, but only because it leads to a satisfying experience. Now, 
 it must be admitted, I think, that truth is not a property which 
 attaches to an idea in its isolation. Simply to entertain an idea 
 is not to have a true idea, even if it should turn out that the idea 
 so entertained is afterwards verified. When the idea that Mars 
 moved in an elliptical orbit presented itself to the mind of Kepler, 
 his idea was not true ; it only became true when it was found to ^ 
 be corroborated by the actual facts. Truth, in other words, exists 
 only in judgments, and judgments are true only when they are 
 based upon convincing evidence. 
 
 So far we must agree with the pragmatist. Truth, as he 
 rightly maintains, cannot be separated from the process of 
 
 ^Jamas' Pragmatism, p. 45, '^Ibid., p. 51. ^ Ibid,, p. 201. 
 
i6o PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 verification. But, not contented with this conditional statement, 
 the pragmatist contends that truth has no other meaning than its 
 power of leading to a satisfying experience. With this contention 
 I am unable to agree. There is no doubt a sense in which the 
 object of experience grows or is made^ but it is not a sense which 
 justifies the reduction of truth to verifiability. Since the " object " 
 is the "experienced" object — the total " situation," as the prag- 
 matist puts it — the object of the " idea," as entertained prior to the 
 proof of its truth, and the object of the "judgment" differ as 
 undeveloped and developed " object." The ordinary account of a 
 true idea as a "copy "of the real object is obviously untenable, for 
 the so-called " real object " exists only in the " true idea," and an idea 
 cannot be a copy of itself. The developed idea, or judgment, is not 
 different from the developed object, but is simply the developed 
 object looked at from the side of the subject. But, while this is 
 true, it does not follow that the truth of a judgment consists in 
 its verification. When is a tentative idea capable of verifi- 
 cation ? Only when it is in harmony with the conditions of 
 experience, general and special. ( A given judgment is true which 
 expresses what is compatible with the total system of experience ; 
 by which we must not understand either a mere succession of 
 impressions, or what we call " Nature," but the complex of con- 
 ditions, external and internal, without which a given experience 
 could not be. ) The pragmatist, tacitly assuming that we cannot 
 comprehend reality as it is, is led to identify truth with what gives 
 satisfaction. And obviously some such view must be advanced 
 by anyone who denies that we can know the real world to be a 
 single system. If, on the other hand, it is admitted that there 
 is only one self-consistent reality, however various its particular 
 manifestations may be, then the only true judgments will be those 
 which are compatible with the total system of things. From this 
 point of view we can understand how there may be a transition 
 from a tentative idea, or hypothesis, to a judgment, and how a 
 judgment may be true without being a " copy " of a real object 
 lying beyond experience. » Nor does this conception of truth imply 
 that in the real world there are no changes ; what it implies is that 
 those changes are not arbitrary, but proceed upon a fixed principle. 
 Truth, in short, presupposes a rational universe, which we, as 
 rational, may comprehend./ 
 
 2. From what has been said it follows that the second denial of 
 
PRAGMATIC CONCEPTION OF TRUTH i6i 
 
 the pragmatist is equally fallacious. An idea is not '* made true " 
 by its satisfactory consequences, but it has these consequences 
 because it is true. It would be passing strange if in a rational 
 universe our fundamental needs were incapable of satisfaction ; ^ 
 and as the desire for truth is one of those needs, and admittedly 
 one which is essential to the satisfaction of the others, it is not 
 surprising that when we hit upon an idea which agrees with the 
 totality of our experience, we should experience the joy of a fulfilled 
 desire. And as our experience is continually growing, we can also 
 understand how it comes about that a partial truth, taken as the 
 whole, should lead to dissatisfaction when it is found to be incom- 
 patible with our wider experience. /In a sense, therefore, no single 
 judgment is absolutely true ; nevertheless, judgments are true in 
 so far as they involve and conform to the principle of the whole ; 
 and when a judgment which has been accepted as final and 
 complete is seen to be only a partial determination of reality, it 
 does not follow that it loses all its truth, but only that it is absorbed ) 
 in a wider truth. 
 
 3. Holding that truth is what leads to a successful and satisfying 
 experience, the pragmatist naturally regards the various categories 
 by which we systematize our experience as simply " postulates," or 
 *' hypotheses,'^ which owe their validity to their success. " Our 
 fundamental ways of thinking about things are discoveries of 
 exceedingly remote ancestors, which have been able to preserve 
 themselves throughout the experience of all subsequent time."^ 
 These common-sense conceptions, as we are told, by the prescriptive 
 right of immemorial custom, have come to seem axiomatic and 
 absolutely indubitable ; but there is nothing to hinder us from 
 supposing that quite different categories " could have proved on the 
 whole as serviceable for handling our experiences mentally as those 
 which we actually use. . . . All our conceptions are what the 
 Germans call Denkmittel^ means by which we handle facts by 
 thinking them."^ Nor is it different with the categories employed 
 by the special sciences and by philosophy. " There are, then, at 
 least three well-characterized levels, stages or types of thought 
 about the world we live in, and the notions of one stage have 
 one kind of merit, those of another stage another kind. It is 
 impossible, however, to say that any stage as yet in sight is 
 absolutely more true than another."^ 
 
 '^]d,mts' Pragmatism, p. 170. '^Ibid., p. 171, ^ Ibid.t p. 188. 
 
 L 
 
i62 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 It seems to be assumed that, if the categories by which we 
 organize our experience have been developed in the process of 
 experience, we thereby deprive them of any claim to truth in any 
 other sense than that of their enabUng us to find our way through 
 what would otherwise be an impassable jungle. Now, while it is 
 certain that such categories as "thing," "identity," "atom,'' 
 " reality,*' are not rigid and unchanging forms, belonging to our 
 intelligence by its original constitution, it seems to me no less 
 certain that they are not mere "working-conceptions.'' The 
 presupposition of an intelligible reality is that it should be a 
 self-determined and self-consistent whole, and therefore any less 
 comprehensive conception will inevitably reveal its limitations if 
 it is treated as ultimate. On the other hand, no category of 
 a purely fictitious character can help us to organize our experiences, 
 because such a category must be in fundamental antagonism to the 
 real universe. If this is admitted, it cannot be conceded that there 
 are other categories which might have "proved as serviceable 
 for handling our experiences as those which we actually use." On 
 such a view the development of experience, in any intelligible 
 sense of the term, is unmeaning. For, if the supposed categories 
 should not only differ from ours, but actually contradict them, we 
 must be living in an irrational universe, in which "to be'' and "not 
 to be " mean the same thing ; while, if they should be merely a 
 variation of ours, they would be in essence the same, and therefore 
 distinguishable only in form. It seems to me entirely fallacious to 
 refer to the different geometries of Euclid and Descartes in defence 
 of the merely instrumental character of our categories ; for those 
 geometries are not contradictory of each other, but are related as 
 less and more comprehensive formulations of the external world 
 in its quantitative aspect. On this analogy, therefore, the 
 categories by which we escape from the chaos of sensible 
 impressions cannot be viewed as merely convenient instruments ; 
 they must be, each in its degree, a veritable, though inadequate, 
 comprehension of reality. They do actually bring to light certain 
 characteristics of the real world, and only become false when they 
 are viewed as if they were exhaustive definitions of it. For there 
 can only be one completely exhaustive definition of reahty, a 
 definition which must include within itself the whole truth, as 
 embodied, dispersedly and more or less confusedly, in the various 
 categories of common sense, science and philosophy. 
 
PRAGMATIC CONCEPTION OF TRUTH 163 
 
 We must, therefore, deny that the three grades of categories 
 stand upon the same level : they are related as successively more 
 comprehensive determinations of the real universe. No doubt we 
 cannot escape from the pragmatic doctrine if we admit its view of 
 truth. If " it is impossible to say that any stage as yet in sight is 
 absolutely more true than another " : if we can say no more than 
 that " common sense is better for one sphere of life, science for 
 another, philosophical criticism for a third " : then we must indeed 
 give up the quest for a rational view of the world. We must do so, 
 because with the admission that we do not comprehend reality 
 itself, but only succeed in organizing our individual experiences for 
 our own limited ends, we have made it impossible to say anything 
 whatever about reality ; for aught we can show, every category we 
 use may not only be inadequate to characterize it, but may distort 
 it into its precise opposite. 
 
 4. That this is the inevitable result of the pragmatic reduction 
 of truth to expediency is shown clearly in the conclusion to which 
 it leads. If truth is merely " satisfying experience," certainly we 
 " cannot reject any hypothesis if consequences useful to life flow 
 from it."^ Whatever we find useful is to that extent true, and true 
 solely because it is useful. The idea of the Absolute, we are told, 
 has been proved of use "by the whole course of men's religious 
 history.'' But, as we may fairly object, if this category, like all 
 others, is true only in the sense that it has helped to introduce 
 order into our experience, there is nothing to show that its opposite 
 might not have been equally useful ; while, on pragmatic premises, 
 neither may be in agreement with the real nature of things. We 
 are told that it is Pluralism which " agrees with the pragmatic 
 temper best."^ If so, must we not accept it, as the idea which best 
 makes for satisfaction ? Monism is practically held to be but a 
 pis alter ; and it is hardly the part of good sense to accept a worse, 
 when we have a better, way of organizing our experiences. We 
 are expressly told that " the rational unity of things " really means 
 "their possible ^rci^vaczS. unification^^ The " world's perfection," 
 as we are assured, is only "a possible terminus ad quem^^^ But is 
 the '* world's perfection" for the pragmatist even " possible" ? If 
 our categories are not determinations of reaUty, but only (?«rways 
 of organizing the Gewiihl of our impressions, it is difficult to 
 see how, by any extension of experience, we come one whit 
 
 ^ James' Pragmatism, p. 273. '^Ibid., p. 278. ^ Ibid.^ p. 280. 
 
i64 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 nearer to reality, and therefore difficult to understand how 
 the " world's perfection " can be declared even " possible.'' The 
 " possible " cannot contradict the essential nature of the "'' real," 
 and as we never come in contact with reality at all, what may, or 
 may not, be " possible " lies entirely beyond our ken. No wonder 
 we are told that " it is our faith and not our logic ^' which decides 
 ultimate questions ! 
 
LECTURE SEVENTH 
 
 CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY 
 
 In the present lecture I propose to complete the 
 consideration of those views which accentuate the 
 personal side of religion, by a somewhat careful 
 examination of Professor Harnack's Das Wesen des 
 ChrisientumSj a work which deservedly enjoys a very 
 high reputation and has had a marked influence^ 
 especially upon popular liberal theology. This work 
 differs from Mr. James' Varieties of Religious 
 Experience in basing its conclusions on historical 
 Christianity, not upon psychological data. The 
 absence, indeed, of any theory of historical evolution 
 in Mr. James' work is one of the things which at 
 once strikes a reader in these days when the idea 
 of development is almost assumed as axiomatic and 
 is applied as a matter of course in all departments 
 of thought. At first sight this seems to put the 
 historian of dogma and the psychologist in an 
 entirely different class ; but, if the criticism of last 
 lecture is at all sound, there is less divergence 
 between the two thinkers than may at first sight 
 appear ; for, while it is true that Professor James 
 arranges his specific material without any reference 
 to its place in the history of thought, Professor 
 
i66 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 Harnack, as I shall try to show, virtually ignores 
 all development in Christian doctrine and in the 
 Christian consciousness. Nor is this agreement a 
 matter of accident ; for both writers either deny the 
 possibility of a philosophy of religion, or at least 
 seek to reduce it to the simplest possible elements. 
 
 Ever since the days of Schleiermacher there has 
 been in Germany an influential school of theologians 
 who have sought to free religion from what they 
 regard as the cramping and benumbing effects of the 
 traditional creed. The starting-point of this move- 
 ment was in one way simply a fresh appeal, in the 
 spirit of the Reformation, to the immediate conscious- 
 ness of the divine ; but in the hands of Schleiermacher 
 it was exaggerated into an emotional mysticism, 
 which set the heart at war with the head, and was 
 only prevented from degenerating into a wild carnival 
 of feeling by the unrecognized presence and restraining 
 influence of reason. The pathway opened up by 
 Schleiermacher was followed later by Ritschl, who 
 makes use of the phenomenalistic side of the Critical 
 Philosophy, as modified by Lotze, in support of a 
 sceptical doctrine of knowledge, maintaining that the 
 sole ground and value of our belief in God is its 
 influence on our own higher life. God is love, and 
 all statements as to the absoluteness and self-existence 
 of God are but " heathenish metaphysics " ; though 
 Ritschl, with obvious inconsistency, refuses to surrender 
 the independent reality of God. Corresponding to the 
 love of God is the kingdom of God, i.e. the union of 
 men for mutual and common action from the motive of 
 love ; a love which, as Ritschl in his later views affirms, 
 derives its origin from the revelation of God in Christ 
 Jesus he regards as the representative of the perfect 
 spiritual religion, and his life as a permanent rule for us. 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY 167 
 
 This is the school of thought in which Professor 
 Harnack has been trained, and its impress is visible in 
 his conception of the religious life. The history of 
 dogma, as he conceives it, is a record of the progressive 
 obscuration of the truth by the action upon the simple 
 faith of Jesus and his immediate disciples of Hellenic 
 philosophy and other " secularizing " influences. " The 
 Christian religion is something simple and sublime ; it 
 means one thing and one thing only: Eternal life in the 
 midst of time, by the strength and under the eyes of 
 God." This essence of all religion is to be found in 
 Jesus Christ and his Gospel, though we must also listen 
 to what the first generation of his disciples tell us of 
 the effect which he had upon their lives ; and we must 
 also take account of the rekindling again and again of 
 the spiritual life which burned in them. " It is not a 
 question of a * doctrine ' being handed down by uniform 
 repetition or arbitrarily distorted, but a question of a 
 h/e " ; and ^' life cannot be spanned by general concep- 
 tions " ; for " there is no general conception of religion 
 to which actual religions are related simply and solely 
 as species to genus." The business of the historian is, 
 therefore, not to seek for a system of doctrine in the 
 Christian records, but to determine what is of per- 
 manent value in those records ; and this can only be 
 done by finding out what is common to all the forms 
 which the Christian idea has taken, corrected by 
 reference to history. Thus we may recover the divine 
 lineaments of Christianity, and find in it nourishment 
 for our higher life. The message of Jesus and its 
 influence upon the soul is the essence of Christianity, 
 not the marvels by which it has been embellished, the 
 dogmas in which it has been formulated, or the institu- 
 tions in which it has been embodied. The Gospel may 
 be said to consist in the glad tidings of the kingdom of 
 
1 68 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 God as present here and now ; of God the Father and 
 the infinite value of the human soul to Him and to 
 itself; of the higher righteousness and the new com- 
 mandment of love, as dependent for realization on 
 humanity or openness to the love of God. In these 
 truths is contained the whole of Christianity.^ 
 
 It cannot be denied that there is much in this view 
 of Harnack which commends itself to the educated 
 man of to-day. The dogmas of the Church, in their 
 traditional form, he has outgrown, and he is apt to 
 look with suspicion on the attempts of recent thinkers 
 to reconstruct them in the light of modern thought. 
 It is therefore with peculiar satisfaction that he hears 
 a scholar of the first rank, who has written one of the 
 best histories of Christian dogma, say that no matter 
 what the results of Biblical criticism and historical 
 investigation may be, or in what vagaries of speculation 
 metaphysicians may indulge, Christianity, as essentially 
 life in the Eternal, cannot be affected by the changing 
 fashions of an age. How far can we reconcile this 
 simplification of religion with the just claims of our 
 intellect? Can we admit that "life cannot be spanned 
 by general conceptions," and that religion is simply and 
 solely a thing of the heart ? 
 
 So far as a distinction is meant to be drawn between 
 religion as the personal experience of the individual, 
 and theology, or the philosophy of religion, as a 
 systematic statement of the truth which that experience 
 presupposes, Harnack is no doubt right; though it may 
 be added that it would be hard to find any representa- 
 tive thinker who would not admit the distinction and 
 even emphasize its importance. But, when it is 
 admitted that religion is not philosophy, it does not 
 follow either that religion can exist in absolute separa- 
 
 ^ Harnack's Wkat is Christianity ? pp. 8 fF. 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY 169 
 
 tion from all " general conceptions/' or that by its very 
 nature every philosophy must necessarily distort or 
 annihilate it. As I have already argued, religion is 
 possible only for a being who is possessed of reason, 
 and indeed of reason as the intellectual comprehension 
 of reality. No doubt a being of pure intellect is 
 an impossible monster of abstraction, but a purely 
 sentient being who lives in the realm of the spirit is 
 not less fictitious. Whatever else religion may be, it 
 involves, as Harnack himself admits, the consciousness of 
 something higher than man ; and the Christian religion, 
 on his own showing, involves the consciousness of God 
 as Father, And surely it is almost a truism to say, 
 that only a being who is conscious of himself can be 
 conscious of something higher than himself But the 
 consciousness of self, with the correlative consciousness 
 of the higher- than-self, is impossible in any being that 
 is destitute of the power to frame " general con- 
 ceptions/' and indeed, in any being who has not 
 already in some sense framed that most " general " of 
 all conceptions, the conception of a single all- 
 comprehensive principle to which all things are 
 somehow related. 
 
 It may be said, however, that the consciousness of 
 some unifying principle higher than man is not the 
 same thing as the abstract conception of such a 
 principle ; for, while the former is a concrete experience, 
 involving the response of the whole nature to the 
 divine, the latter sets aside and discounts that vivid 
 and living experience, and thus falls into an unreal 
 abstraction. This objection really rests upon a mis- 
 apprehension of the true character of conception. It is 
 perfectly true that the personal consciousness of the 
 divine can exist, and does often exist, in individuals 
 who display very little power of theoretical reflection ; 
 
I70 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 for this is only to say that philosophy is a special 
 enquiry, like other branches of knowledge, and demands 
 in those who prosecute it a certain power of raising 
 their individual experiences into universal forms. For 
 them the conception of self or God is in one sense 
 more abstract, and in another sense more concrete, 
 than for the *' plain man " who is not given to reflection. 
 It is more abstract, in so far as the idea of self or God 
 has been made an object of exclusive and concentrated 
 attention ; it is more concrete, because this act of 
 abstraction has brought to light the infinity which is 
 involved in this as in every other conception. It is 
 the marvellous power of thought that it is able to 
 comprehend the absolutely universal — that which applies 
 not only to the given instance, but to every possible 
 instance. Thus, the conception of self applies to every 
 possible self that ever has been, is, or will be ; just as 
 the conception of God involves the idea of a unity 
 which embraces all possible objects, however various 
 in their characteristics they may be. Without the 
 activity of thought there obviously can be no philo- 
 sophy of religion, for philosophy lives in the medium 
 of thought. But, what is more important for our 
 immediate purpose, without thought there can be no 
 religion ; for, though religion cannot be resolved into 
 thought, it necessarily includes thought ; since, whether 
 or not it is recognized by the subject, there is no 
 religion apart from the idea of the divine. That idea, 
 it is true, does not in the first instance present itself in 
 the form of a conception or universal ; but, though it 
 may not be made an explicit object of reflection, its 
 presence as informing the whole being is essential to 
 the existence of the religious consciousness. 
 
 Why, then, does Harnack speak as if the religious 
 consciousness were possible without thought ? He does 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY 171 
 
 so, as I think, because he assumes that the absence of 
 explicit conception is the same thing as the absence of 
 conception in any sense. He sees that a man may be 
 religious without having any definite theory of religion, 
 and he therefore concludes that religion is possible 
 independently of all conception. But one is entitled to 
 ask, how there can be any consciousness of that which 
 is higher than self for a being that is not conscious of 
 self; and how there can be any consciousness of self 
 without the comprehension of self as the subject of an 
 infinite variety of possible experiences. If from the 
 religious consciousness we eliminate all universals, and 
 reduce it to pure feeling, there can be no consciousness 
 of a universal self, or of God as the principle of all 
 reality. If, on the other hand, it is admitted that the 
 religious consciousness lives in the medium of uni- 
 versals, to deny that religion involves conception is to 
 remove from it that without which it cannot exist. 
 
 We must, then, as it seems to me, refuse to admit 
 that the personal experience of religion is possible 
 apart from the universalizing and unifying activity of 
 thought. On the other hand, the activity of thought 
 cannot be identified with the religious consciousness 
 in its fulness and complexity ; and it is this fact which 
 gives force to the contention that " life is more than 
 thought," and to the false inference that there is " life " 
 without " thought." If we take a cross section of our 
 personal experience at any moment, we shall find 
 that it contains three distinguishable but inseparable 
 elements : thought, feeling, and will. This is true of 
 all experience, and therefore of religious experience. 
 Hence, to identify religion with the intellectual com- 
 prehension of the divine, thus isolating thought from 
 feeling and will, is like breaking up an organism into 
 parts and declaring that the disjecta membra are still 
 
172 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 alive. Religion is the response of the whole man to 
 what is higher than himself, and therefore it implies not 
 only the conception of the divine, but love of it and 
 self-surrender to it. The attempt to suppress any- 
 one of these elements must therefore be fatal to the 
 integrity of the whole. Harnack is especially impressed 
 by the complex character of the religious consciousness, 
 seeing clearly that its reduction to a mere conception 
 destroys its essential character by removing that feeling 
 of reverence and that active willing of the divine which 
 are indispensable to it ; but, in his eagerness to liberate 
 the lives of men from the burden of a "creed out- worn/' 
 or rather overgrown, he forgets that feeling and will 
 are just as impossible without thought as is thought 
 without feeling and will. Wlien he contends for the 
 independence of religion on dogma, he is so far right 
 that religion can exist in the individual even in the 
 absence of a definitely formulated creed ; but when he 
 assumes that religion may exist without implying any 
 intellectual element, he virtually affirms that it cannot 
 be formulated, and therefore is essentially irrational. 
 If his view were sound, it would be possible to preserve 
 the religious consciousness while removing from it 
 everything in the way of universal ideas ; and indeed 
 the only legitimate conclusion would seem to be, that, 
 as religion is altogether independent of such ideas, their 
 removal must purge it of an adscititious element which 
 tends to destroy its purity and power. 
 
 Now, before we commit ourselves to this question- 
 able doctrine, it is important to distinguish between 
 what a man believes that he believes, and what he 
 really believes. As Jowett once said, speaking of the 
 belief in Christianity : " As there are many who say 
 they are and are not, so may we not also say that 
 there are many who say they are not and yet are ? " 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY 173 
 
 Socrates was condemned to death, among other things 
 for " denying the gods of his country " ; but we 
 should now say that for the charge of atheism should 
 be substituted the commendation of theism. A man 
 in our day may reject the traditional conception of 
 the divine, because he regards it as subversive of 
 religion, and his denial may be really equivalent to 
 the assertion of a purified conception of it. But, 
 while this is true, it hardly affects the problem at 
 present under discussion, namely, whether it is possible, 
 after penetrating behind the words in which a man's 
 real thought may be veiled, to have a religion which 
 does not, at least implicitly, rest upon belief in the 
 divine. Now, it seems to me undeniable, that we 
 cannot properly speak of religion except where there 
 is the consciousness of something higher than the 
 actual. It is true that in the earliest form of religion 
 of which we have any knowledge, the belief in the 
 divine is at once vague and fluctuating. But this 
 only shows that the religious consciousness is at first 
 hardly aware of what it really involves. Remove the 
 belief in something in some sense divine, and with it 
 the religious feeling of which it is the support dies, 
 so that it ceases to have any influence upon me-n's 
 lives. When primitive man's belief in the mysterious 
 sanctity and divinity of his totem dies, he no longer 
 worships it, but discards it as a detected sham. 
 And at a more developed stage, with the conclusion 
 that the gods of his fathers were creatures of his own 
 imagination, the faith of the Greek in his national 
 religion vanished away, and for the gods who had 
 come to seem incredible to him he substituted a 
 single deity, or at least a Fate, which subjected all 
 things to its sway. Similarly, the scientific man of 
 our own day, who is convinced that there is no such 
 
174 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 thing as chance or supernatural interference with the 
 inviolability of natural law, cannot believe in or 
 worship a Being who is declared to be arbitrary and 
 capricious, and he is therefore apt to speak of Nature, 
 when at the basis of his faith lies the conception of 
 a Principle in which is embodied all that may most 
 fitly be called divine. I think, therefore, we may 
 fairly assert that the religious consciousness, in its 
 lowest as in its highest form, implies the belief in 
 God. Nor is Buddhism or Comtism any real ex- 
 ception to this law, for in both what is reverenced 
 is not any mere assemblage of individual men, but 
 an ideal of humanity which differs only in words 
 from what other faiths characterize as divine. The 
 only thing that is fatal to a religion is the conviction 
 that it has no basis in the nature of things. 
 
 The conclusion to which we have been brought 
 is virtually endorsed by Harnack, inconsistent as it 
 is with his attempt to reduce religion to a form of 
 feeling ; for, though he insists, and in a certain sense 
 rightly insists, that " the Gospel is no theoretical 
 system of doctrine or philosophy," he yet admits that 
 the Christian religion involves " the reality of God 
 the Father " ; and by this admission he practically 
 maintains that without the consciousness of the divine 
 religion is impossible. Harnack would hardly contend 
 that " the reality of God the Father " is in any sense 
 doubtful ; on the contrary, it is for him the one truth 
 upon which all religion, or at least the Christian 
 religion, is based. Here, then, is one absolutely true 
 judgment. But, unless we are to base this judgment 
 upon mere authority — and I do not understand that 
 our author takes that vitw — we must admit that in 
 this case we have a conception which is consistent 
 with the religious consciousness. Now, once admit 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY i75 
 
 the principle that there may be harmony between 
 religion and theology, and we can no longer oppose 
 the one to the other. The "Gospel," no doubt, is 
 not a " theoretical system of doctrine or philosophy 
 of the universe," but the record of a living personal 
 experience ; nevertheless it must contain, in an 
 immediate or unreflective form, ideas that may be 
 expressed in a system ; — ideas, moreover, which in 
 their totality must be consistent with one another, 
 and must therefore form an organic unity. It is 
 these ideas that a philosophy of religion has to 
 express ; and to say that they cannot be identified 
 with the religious experience which they seek to 
 formulate, in no way detracts from their truth or 
 their importance. Harnack himself reaches what he 
 regards as the " essence " of Christianity, not by 
 taking the Christian consciousness at any stage, even 
 the earliest, as absolutely free from error, but only by 
 conceiving it to contain an imperishable " kernel " of 
 truth ; and this is at bottom identical with the aim 
 of the philosophy of religion, as I understand it, 
 widely as the content of that philosophy may differ 
 from the bare residuum with which he identifies it. 
 It would thus seem that if we follow out to its logical 
 consequences the admission, almost inadvertently made 
 by our author, that Christianity presupposes the truth 
 of the doctrine that " God is Father," we cannot 
 assent to his thesis, that the Gospel and Theology 
 are inharmonious ; rather we must grant that in a 
 sense Theology, or the Philosophy of Religion, is the 
 inevitable development of the Gospel. This point is 
 so important that it will repay us to consider some- 
 what more closely what is involved in the assertion 
 that " the reality of God the Father " is the " essence " 
 of " the Gospel." 
 
176 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 It can hardly be maintained that the predicate 
 " Father," as applied to God, is to be taken in a baldly- 
 literal sense. Like much of our language, the term 
 involves a metaphor, though no doubt a metaphor 
 which has the large suggestiveness of all apt literary 
 expression. It must of course be admitted that, in its 
 direct or immediate form, the religious consciousness 
 shrinks from any attempt to enquire too curiously into 
 the precise meaning of such a term, as if it were a sort 
 of profanation ; but, natural as this feeling is, the more 
 reflective minds of our age are simply unable to remain 
 permanently satisfied with terms that have not been 
 precisely defined. What, then, are we to understand 
 by the proposition that " God is Father " ? After the 
 somewhat laborious investigations of former lectures 
 we may assume that by the term " God " is meant at 
 least the Being from whom all proceeds and to whom 
 all tends ; and that the predicate " Father " implies 
 that we are related to this Being as free self-conscious 
 spirits to the universal Spirit, in union with whom alone 
 our nature is capable of being realized. This con- 
 ception of God may be, and has been, denied ; but it 
 cannot be consistently denied by one who, like 
 Professor Harnack, regards the reality of God as 
 inseparable from the religious consciousness. Now, 
 if it is admitted that religion involves the objective 
 existence of God, it is impossible at the same time 
 to deny that it implicitly contains a " theoretical 
 system of doctrine or philosophy of the universe." 
 If we are to give any precise meaning to what is 
 called the belief in " the reality of God the Father," 
 we must grant that the ultimate principle of the 
 universe is a self-manifesting Spirit, and that man is 
 identical in nature with God ; and it is merely playing 
 with words to deny that this involves a " theoretical 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY 177 
 
 system of doctrine or philosophy of the universe." No 
 doubt it may still be denied that reason can evolve 
 such a " system " out of itself, and on this ground it 
 may be argued that we must base the reality of God 
 upon a supernatural revelation. But the supposition 
 that reason can evolve anything " out of itself,"^ i.e, in 
 absolute independence of experience, is a fallacy hardly 
 worthy of refutation ; while the attempt to base religion 
 upon authority is, as we have seen, essentially suicidal, 
 besides being inconsistent with Harnack's own view of 
 the self-evidencing character of the religious conscious- 
 ness. Human experience is essentially rational, and may 
 be shown to be such ; but any attempt to derive its 
 content from abstract conceptions must end in failure, 
 just as no revelation is possible that does not appeal to 
 the experience of the race. What we must hold then 
 is, that the religious consciousness, in its most com- 
 prehensive sense, involves a rational system ; which, 
 when it is expressly formulated by reason, yields a 
 philosophy of religion ; or, to keep more closely to 
 Harnack's point of view, that in the Christian con- 
 sciousness is imbedded a conception of the universe 
 which may be developed into a Christian philosophy 
 of religion. 
 
 Perhaps enough has been said to show that 
 Harnack cannot consistently admit the "doctrine" of 
 the "reality of God the Father" without abandoning 
 his thesis, that theology does not deal with the 
 " essence '' of Christianity, but only with the temporary 
 and evanescent forms assumed by it in self-defence. 
 The more closely we examine into the reasons he 
 advances for setting up an opposition between religion 
 and philosophy, the more does it become manifest that 
 he is continually contradicting himself. Nor is this 
 due to any want of skill on his part, but to the 
 
178 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 fundamental contradiction inseparable from his main 
 thesis. The task he has set himself, as he tells us, is 
 to solve the problem, What is the Christian religion? 
 and to solve it from purely historical data. At first 
 sight it may seem, as he goes on to say, that the 
 Christian religion is the religion announced by its 
 Founder, and thus the problem apparently narrows 
 itself down to an enquiry into the life and sayings of 
 Jesus Christ, as recorded in the Gospels, together with 
 a few items gathered from the writings of St. Paul and 
 other sources. And when we speak of the Gospels in 
 this connection, we mean only the synoptic Gospels ; 
 for " the fourth Gospel was not written, nor does it 
 claim to be written, by the Apostle John." We cannot, 
 however, really confine ourselves to Jesus and his 
 Gospel, " because every great and powerful personality 
 reveals a part of what it is only when seen in those 
 whom it influences." Nor can we stop even " with the 
 first generation of Jesus' disciples " ; but " we must 
 include all the later products of its spirit." Our 
 author denies, however, that " the question is of a 
 'doctrine' being handed down by uniform tradition 
 or arbitrarily distorted : it is a question of a life^ again 
 and again kindled afresh, and now burning with a 
 flame of its own." The business of the historian is to 
 " determine what is of permanent value " ; so that he 
 " must not cleave to words," but " find out what is 
 essential." " What is common to all the forms which 
 the Christian idea has taken, corrected by reference to 
 the Gospel, and, conversely, the chief features of the 
 Gospel, corrected by reference to history, will . . . bring 
 us to the kernel of the matter."^ 
 
 Now, there is one obvious objection to this position. 
 Not to insist upon the difficulty of separating what 
 
 ^Hamack's What is Christianity? pp. 10-15. 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY 179 
 
 may with certainty be attributed to Jesus himself from 
 what is due to the interpretation, or misinterpretation, 
 of his disciples, it is hard to see how, by a purely 
 historical investigation, we are to determine wherein 
 the " essence " of Christianity consists. Suppose it to 
 be granted, in the most unequivocal way, that we know 
 precisely what was held by Jesus, and what was 
 introduced by his followers ; how can we in this way 
 reach the "kernel of the matter"? If indeed our 
 author held that the Gospel was identical with what 
 was taught by Jesus himself, and that all changes in it 
 are to be viewed as distortions of its purity, one might 
 admit that the problem was a " purely historical " one. 
 But Harnack does not take that view. " Jesus Christ 
 and his disciples," as he tells us, "were situated in their 
 day just as we are situated in ours ; that is to say, 
 their feelings, their thoughts, their judgments and 
 their efforts were bounded by the horizon and the 
 framework in which their own nation was set and by 
 its condition at the time."^ For example, " there can 
 be no doubt about the fact that the idea of the two 
 kingdoms, of God and of the devil, and their conflicts, 
 was an idea which Jesus simply shared with his 
 contemporaries."^ Hence "the historian's task of dis- 
 tinguishing between what is traditional and what is 
 peculiar, between kernel and husk, in Jesus* message 
 of the kingdom of God is a difficult and responsible 
 one."^ How, then, one naturally asks, is the historian 
 to accomplish this " difficult and responsible " task ? 
 Without insisting upon the literal meaning of the term, 
 may we not say that it is the business of the historian 
 to tell us in this case, what, as a matter of fact, Jesus 
 actually taught, not to determine how much of his 
 
 ^ Harnack*s What is Christianity? p. 12. 
 •^Ibid., p. 54. ^Ibid,, p. 55. 
 
i8o PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 teaching is permanent ? When we go on to ask how 
 much is permanent and how much transitory, we 
 enter upon an investigation that leads us very far 
 beyond the proper problem of the historian. If with 
 Harnack we regard all doctrine as excluded from the 
 "essence" of Christianity, we shall no doubt limit 
 Christianity as he does ; but, on the other hand, if 
 we hold that Christianity is not merely a personal 
 faith, but contains a revelation of the ultimate nature 
 of things, our view of what is " essential " will differ 
 very much from his. On what ground does Harnack 
 exclude that part of Jesus' teaching which he claims 
 to have been common to Jesus with others of his 
 age and country? Is it not on the ground that the 
 subsequent history of the race proved that this part 
 was not consistent with fact ? The kingdom of heaven 
 did not come in a few years, and indeed our author 
 would not admit that it will ever come, in the literal 
 sense which he ascribes to Jesus and his disciples. 
 Is it not obvious, then, that his real reason for reject- 
 ing this part of what he regards as the teaching of 
 Jesus is that the subsequent development of knowledge 
 has made it incredible? If, therefore, a distinction is 
 to be drawn between the permanent and the temporary 
 element in the teaching of Jesus, as Harnack main- 
 tains, must it not be on the ground that the former 
 is in harmony with the nature of things, while the 
 latter is not ? In other words, the permanent element 
 in the teaching of Jesus must be held to command 
 our assent, not because it has the impress of his 
 authority — for if so, all that he taught would be equally 
 authoritative — but because it is true. 
 
 The point I wish to make, as you will observe, is 
 not that we are to identify Christianity with the form 
 in which it is maintained to have been originally 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY i8i 
 
 expressed, but that a purely historical investigation 
 can bring us no further. So far as the historian goes, 
 his task is done when he has told us what he believes 
 Jesus as a matter of fact to have actually held : as a 
 historian he cannot tell us whether the teaching of 
 Jesus, as a whole or in part, was true or false. The 
 moment we ask whether, or how far, the teaching is 
 true, we enter upon an enquiry which can only be 
 solved by a complete philosophy of religion. 
 
 There is another point. Harnack seeks for the 
 " essence " of religion in a permanent nucleus of reli- 
 gious feeling, first experienced by Jesus, and subse- 
 quently reproduced in the experience of every one of 
 his followers. Now, as has been already pointed out, 
 it may be admitted that, if we are speaking of religion, 
 as distinguished from theology, there is a certain amount 
 of truth in this contention. Every religious man experi- 
 ences the uplifting power of the divine, and in that 
 sense it may be said that religion is unchangeable. 
 But, after all, this is a partial or abstract view. For, 
 though there is an identical element in the religious 
 consciousness of all Christians, in none, as Harnack 
 himself admits, is it absolutely the same. Even the 
 least reflective man has some way of construing life, 
 and his religious experience is not separable from this 
 construction. But what is of main importance here, 
 each man participates in the ideas of his time, and as 
 these again are only made possible by the whole 
 previous experience of the race, he may well be under 
 the influence of ideas of which he can give no definite 
 account. Such ideas have not fallen from heaven : 
 they first arose in the consciousness of some man of 
 genius, or they have been won by the long and severe 
 toil of many. It is impossible, for example, that a 
 religious man, who at the same time shares in the main 
 
1 82 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 ideas of our age, should believe in religious cataclysms ; 
 for our whole view of things is so permeated by the 
 idea of development, that even when we can give no 
 account of our religious beliefs, or at best a slip-shod 
 and confused account, we instinctively reject any expla- 
 nation of their origin which cuts them off from the past. 
 Now, it is curious that Professor Harnack should virtu- 
 ally ignore this side of things. He regards religion, 
 almost from the point of view of a pre-evolutionist age, 
 as a permanent and unchanging kernel, enclosed in an 
 external husk of doctrines, the value of which consists, 
 not in its truth, but in its fitness to preserve the truth 
 from injury or destruction. The husk is perpetually 
 changing and decaying, while the kernel remains always 
 the same. Such a view cannot be r^arded as final. 
 If it were true, we should have to maintain that there 
 is an imperishable and unchanging nucleus of religion 
 which is common to the lowest and the highest forms 
 of the religious consciousness. Thus Christianity would 
 in no way differ on its personal side from the crassest 
 animism. The real truth is that both religion and 
 theology have developed, and on the whole developed 
 pari passu. Man does not stand still in part and in 
 part develop : when he changes his whole being changes. 
 No doubt this or that element of his nature may receive 
 temporary emphasis, but, in the long course of history, 
 all the elements advance together. It is, therefore, a 
 mistake to look for the " essence " of Christianity in 
 any unchanging " kernel " : its real " essence " is to be 
 sought in its living power of self-development. It is a 
 natural parallax which leads us to imagine that we can 
 discover the real nature of Christianity by enquiring 
 into its primitive form, and comparing this form with 
 its latest expression. The element of truth in this 
 view is, that we are often enabled to separate the 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY 183 
 
 adventitious elements which attach to a principle by 
 going back to its beginnings and tracing the process 
 by which it has developed, A principle, on its first 
 enunciation, may be said to embrace in confused fulness 
 more than can be formulated at any stage short of the 
 last ; which virtually means more than can ever be 
 worked out into absolute clearness and definiteness. 
 The truth, however, is that this fulness is to the origi- 
 nator of the idea merely implicit, and that without the 
 subsequent development it would not have for us the 
 significance which it actually has. The meaning of 
 Christianity is best discovered by asking what influence 
 it has had in successive periods of human history, and 
 what is its influence to-day. Every age has its own 
 problems ; and though in a sense we inherit all the 
 problems of the past, yet the process of evolution has 
 prepared for us the special problem which it is our task 
 to solve. Our problem seems to me to be this : to deter- 
 mine the form which the principle of Christianity must 
 take in view of the present state of science, art, morality, 
 and social organization. To evade the complexity of 
 the problem, as Harnack does, by setting up a half- 
 mythical " essence " of Christianity, will not satisfy a 
 critical age like ours. At the same time, I should not 
 for a moment undervalue the important work which 
 our author has done in throwing light upon the history 
 of religious thought : what I deprecate is his attempt, 
 under the guise of a historical problem, to withdraw 
 religion from the realm of philosophical criticism. It 
 is vain to deny the force of Kant's remark, that 
 *' when religion seeks to shelter itself behind its sanctity, 
 it justly awakens suspicion against itself, and loses its 
 claim to the sincere respect which reason yields only 
 to that which has been able to bear the test of its free 
 and open scrutiny." 
 
1 84 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 Pefhaps the view I have been trying to indicate may- 
 be made clearer by a consideration of Harnack's picture 
 of the early history of Christianity. In a passage already 
 quoted he tells us that " Jesus Christ and his disciples 
 were situated in their day just as we are situated in 
 ours ; that is to say, their feelings, their thoughts, their 
 judgments, and their efforts were bounded by the 
 horizon and the framework in which their own nation 
 was set and by its condition at the time," The 
 " Kingdom of God " was for Jesus, on the one hand, 
 a future Apocalyptic reign of God on earth, and, on 
 the other hand, a purely spiritual regeneration, already 
 begun in the hearts of believers ; and between these 
 two poles his thoughts and feelings revolved. "Jesus, 
 like all those of his own nation who were really in 
 earnest, was profoundly conscious of the great anti- 
 thesis between the kingdom of God and that kingdom 
 of the world in which he saw the reign of evil and 
 the evil one. . . . He was certain that the kingdom 
 of the world must perish and be destroyed." There 
 must, therefore, be a battle. But the triumph of the 
 kingdom of God was assured and imminent, and when 
 it should come Jesus saw himself " seated at the right 
 hand of his Father, and his twelve disciples on thrones 
 judging the twelve tribes of Israel ; so objective was 
 this picture to him, so completely in harmony with the 
 ideas of his time." But while Jesus undoubtedly shared 
 with his contemporaries this idea of the two kingdoms 
 of God and the devil, of their conflicts and of the future 
 last conflict, in which the devil, after having long before 
 been driven out of heaven, will be finally overcome on 
 earth, it is a great mistake to look upon this idea as 
 the main import of his teaching : what was really 
 characteristic was the other view, that the kingdom 
 of God " cometh not with observation," that it is 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY 185 
 
 already here. The parables show that " the kingdom 
 of God comes by coming to the individual, by entering 
 into his soul and laying hold of it True, the kingdom 
 of God is the rule of God ; but it is the rule of the 
 holy God in the hearts of individuals : it is God him- 
 self in his power. From this point of v'l^v^ everything 
 that is dramatic in the external and historical sense 
 has vanished."^ 
 
 This view of the consciousness of Jesus is shared by 
 critics who do not sympathize with Harnack's con- 
 ception of theology. Thus his colleague, Professor 
 Pfleiderer, says : ** Jesus undeniably shared the Apo- 
 calyptic belief of his time of the near end of the present 
 age of the world, aind the dawn of a new supernatural 
 age (a/a)i/ o^to^^ amv /neWoov) ; and to this eschatological 
 supernaturalism logically corresponded his ethical super- 
 naturalism — that is, the ascetic requirement of the 
 not merely internal, but also external, renunciation 
 of all that belongs to the present age, of goods and 
 chattels, of family and calling, of friendship and 
 fatherland."* Without attempting to determine upon 
 the historical accuracy of the contention that Jesus 
 presented his gospel in the form of the Apocalyptic 
 belief of his time, we have to ask whether this belief 
 must be regarded as inseparable from Christianity. 
 Harnack, as we have seen, answers in the negative, 
 maintaining that Christianity consists in what was 
 characteristic of the teaching of Jesus, not in what he 
 shared in common with his contemporaries. 
 
 Now, while we must grant that Christianity cannot 
 be identified with what is held by some thinkers to 
 have been its first form, in which it included the belief 
 in "a new supernatural age" (to use Pfleiderer's words), 
 
 ^Harnack's What is Christianity? pp. 53-56. 
 
 ^Pfleiderer's Philosophy and Development of Religion, ii. pp. 101-2. 
 
1 86 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 we cannot admit that it may be identified with an 
 immediate feeling in the soul of the individual. We 
 can no longer accept the idea of *' a new supernatural 
 age," because the actual course of history has shown 
 that the belief in the near end of the world and the 
 dawn of " a new supernatural age " was not realized ; 
 and, still more, just because the recognition of the 
 spiritual nature of the kingdom of God is one of 
 the most assured results of the long toil of the Chris- 
 tian centuries. But while this is true, it seems to me 
 none the less true, that Christianity cannot be separated 
 from the total conception of things which experience 
 and reflection compel us to adopt. If its truth were 
 dependent upon the form in which it is believed by 
 Harnack to have been first enunciated, there would 
 be no alternative for us of these latter days but to 
 reject it as obsolete and incredible. For, nothing is 
 more certain than that no form of religion which 
 is based upon an interruption of the regular course 
 of nature is now credible. Hence Christianity, if it 
 is to survive, must be compatible with the fullest 
 recognition of the reign of law. It is thus obvious 
 that the form which it assumes in our day cannot 
 possibly be identical with what is maintained to 
 have been its primitive form : in other words, that it 
 must be regarded as participating in that process of 
 evolution which applies to the whole history of man. 
 On the other hand, the history of religion cannot be a 
 mere succession of disconnected changes ; there must 
 be some permanent element which guarantees its con- 
 tinuity. Nor can this element be viewed as simply 
 something which in all changes remains the same : a 
 dead cold identity with no principle of life in it ; it 
 must be that which maintains itself in and through 
 change. Now, if we wish to tell what in any case 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY 187 
 
 a living principle is, we must look to the end as well as 
 to the beginning. " The child is father of the man/' 
 as Wordsworth says ; but what the child is can only be 
 learned by looking at the man, and viewing the child in 
 the light of what is thus revealed. Similarly, if we 
 wish to learn what Christianity is, we must ask what it 
 is now, after the lapse of nineteen centuries, and only 
 th^i can we tell what was wrapped up in its first form. 
 Moreover, the Christianity of our day must be consistent 
 with the highest products of reflection. We cannot 
 now adopt in reference to it a view of history which 
 has been exploded in other spheres ; we cannot believe 
 that there are cataclysms in the realm of spirit, any more 
 than in the realm of nature. There are no breaks in 
 the life of humanity any more than in the external 
 world. Therefore, the kingdom of heaven must consist 
 in the development of goodness in and through the 
 ordinary processes by which man is ever realizing his 
 ideals. And this spiritual development is not some- 
 thing which goes on in isolation, having no relation to 
 the other phases of human life, but must be the higher 
 spirit of the whole process. Hence, just as there was a 
 primitive view of human history and of nature, so there 
 is a modern view which Christianity must incorporate 
 on pain of extinction. 
 
 Is such an incorporation possible? I believe it is, 
 if we only distinguish, as we ought to do, between 
 a set of specific beliefs and a living principle. The 
 specific beliefs of the first age of Christianity have 
 necessarily passed away, and become incredible ; and 
 they have done so, because they represented an early 
 phase in the history of humanity. But, though they 
 are no longer credible in their original form, the 
 principle which animated them is not dead. Religion 
 is not something accidental to man, but something 
 
1 88 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 inseparable from his rational life. It is that undying 
 and. inextinguishable faith in the divine, the denial 
 of which is ultimately the destruction of all other 
 beliefs. The Christian religion must therefore base 
 its claim to acceptance upon its power of inspiring 
 and satisfying this fundamental need of humanity. 
 Now, when we direct our attention to the teaching' 
 of Jesus as set forth in the Gospels, we find in it, 
 besides the Apocalyptic belief in the dawn of a 
 supernatural age, a belief in God as love and in the 
 principle that the key to all conduct is, " Die to 
 live." These two beliefs are inseparably intertwined, 
 so that to deny either is to deny both. But surely 
 we may admit, that, fundamental and absolute as 
 they are, they yet stand in need of further definition. 
 The teaching of Jesus was based upon his direct 
 intuitions, not upon a process of scientific ratiocination ; 
 and while these may fairly claim to rest upon a 
 foundation that cannot be shaken, it is only by the 
 whole teaching of experience, and by the combined 
 labours - of the race, that they can yield up the 
 whole of their meaning. In this process there is no 
 doubt a certain danger : the danger that the reflective 
 formulation should miss their full meaning, or should 
 be regarded as a substitute for personal experience 
 of their power. This, however, is a danger which 
 not only cannot be avoided, but the avoidance of 
 which would impoverish religious experience itself. 
 Hence, instead of taking refuge from doubt in the 
 undeveloped intuitions of Jesus, as Harnack does, we 
 must in these days, if we are to place our faith in 
 Christianity on impregnable grounds, develop them 
 in the light of the best thought of our day into 
 a full and complete system, which shall ignore no 
 established result of science and no lesson of history. 
 
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORY 189 
 
 For the Apocalyptic view, which critics tell us Jesus 
 shared with his contemporaries, we must substitute 
 a fully reasoned system or philosophy of religion. 
 So only can we hope to retain our faith without 
 doing violence to our reason, and our reason without 
 sacrifice of our faith. 
 
LECTURE EIGHTH 
 
 PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 
 
 In my last lecture, Harnack's "What is Christianity?" 
 was taken as an instance of the doctrine which 
 attaches pre-eminent importance to the personal aspect 
 of religion. Since the days of Schleiermacher there 
 has been an influential school of theologians who 
 have sought to escape from the cramping influence 
 of the traditional creed by making a fresh appeal to 
 the religious experience of the individual. To this 
 school belonged Ritschl, who may be regarded as 
 the teacher of Harnack. It is held by the latter 
 that " the Christian religion is something simple and 
 sublime ; it means one thing and one thing only : 
 Eternal life in the midst of time by the strength 
 and under the eyes of God." The essence of all 
 religion is to be found in Jesus Christ and his 
 Gospel, though we must also listen to the first 
 generation of his disciples, and take account of the 
 rekindling again and again of the spiritual life which 
 has burned in all his followers. Religion is not a 
 matter of doctrine, but a life ; and " life cannot be 
 spanned by general conceptions." The business of the 
 historian is to find out what is common to all the 
 forms which the Christian ideas have taken, corrected 
 by reference to the Gospel, and conversely the chief 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 191 
 
 features of the Gospel, corrected by reference to 
 history. Thus we may recover the divine lineaments 
 of Christianity, and find in it nourishment for our 
 higher life. The Gospel consists in the glad tidings of 
 the Kingdom of God as present here and now ; of 
 God the Father and the infinite value of the human 
 soul to Him and to itself; of the higher righteousness 
 and the new commandment of love. In those truths 
 is contained the whole of Christianity, while the history 
 of Dogma is a record of the progressive obscuration of 
 the truth by Hellenic philosophy and other " secu- 
 larizing" influences. What lends force to this view 
 of Harnack is the undeniable distinction between 
 religion and theology or the philosophy of religion. 
 But though religion is not philosophy, it does not 
 follow either that it can exist without all "general 
 conceptions" or that philosophy must distort or 
 annihilate it. A being of pure intellect is no doubt 
 a fiction, but so also is a religious being who is 
 merely sentient. If it is said that the consciousness 
 of God as Father is a concrete experience, while 
 thought works with abstractions, the answer is that 
 in one sense the conception of God is more concrete 
 than the ordinary consciousness of God, because the 
 former explicitly embraces all possible reality within 
 itself, whereas the latter represents Him in a pictorial 
 way and therefore as finite. Harnack's mistake is to 
 identify the absence of explicit conception in the 
 religious consciousness with the absence of all con- 
 ception. On the other hand, religion cannot be 
 identified with the intellectual comprehension of the 
 divine, because, as a response of the whole man, it 
 involves the indissoluble union of thought, feeling, and 
 will. This is what gives plausibility to the conten- 
 tion that religion may exist independently of all 
 
192 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 conceptions ; a view which, if it were sound, would put 
 the lowest form of religion on the same level as the 
 highest When we penetrate to man's real beliefs, it 
 becomes evident that the minimum of religion is 
 faith in the divine, and such a faith is possible only 
 to one who conceives of the universe as rational. 
 This is virtually admitted by Harnack himself when 
 he holds that belief in the Fatherhood of God and 
 the sonship of man is the essence of Christianity. 
 We cannot, however, grant that there is an unr 
 changeable " kernel " of religion : for, as man develops, 
 his whole nature develops, and therefore the religious 
 consciousness becomes ever more complex. While its 
 principle is no doubt ever the same, it is not a dead 
 unchanging identity, but continually grows by the 
 very energy which enables it to assimilate new forms 
 of experience. In order to exhibit this process in 
 its actual operation, I propose, in the present and the 
 following lecture, to consider the relation of Philo to the 
 writers of the New Testament, and in two subsequent 
 lectures to indicate the struggle of the principle of 
 Christianity with Greek philosophy, as represented 
 by the Gnostics ; following up these studies with a 
 statement of the phases of faith through which 
 Augustine passed and a critical estimate of his 
 theology ; continuing with a short consideration of 
 medieval theology, as embodied in the teachings of 
 Thomas Aquinas ; and ending with a statement and 
 criticism of Leibnitz as an exponent of Protestant 
 Theology. This historical course will bring us back 
 to the point from which we started in our third 
 lecture, and prepare the way for a final determination, 
 in the two last lectures, of the relations of God, the 
 world and man, as conceived by the form of Idealism 
 advocated in these pages. 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 193 
 
 How far, if at all, can the method and the ideas of 
 Philo be said to have influenced the New Testament ? 
 Both of these questions are surrounded with difficulty. 
 Philo is not a pure philosopher of the type of Plato 
 and Aristotle : he does not attempt to construct a 
 system of thought on the basis of reason, but starts 
 from certain preconceptions, which determine the 
 character of his thought. Nor has he elaborated a 
 philosophical system of his own, after a critical in- 
 vestigation of the doctrines of his predecessors, but 
 has taken from them whatever ideas seemed to fit in 
 with his general conception of things. The result is 
 that he presents us with an eclectic philosophy, which 
 rather contains a number of suggestions that, after 
 much critical labour, might be developed into a system, . 
 than what can be called a philosophy. It might, 
 perhaps, be said that Philo, in thus sitting loose to any 
 hard and fast system, is only exhibiting the true 
 philosophical temper, which refuses to admit that any 
 given doctrine sums up the whole body of truth, and 
 that he is to be commended, instead of condepined, 
 for his contempt of system-mongering. The defence 
 seems to me to be based upon a misunderstanding 
 of the true function of philosophy. If we compare the 
 method of Philo with one of the great masters of 
 speculation, we shall see that his eclecticism is a mark, 
 not of strength, but of weakness. Aristotle, for 
 example, everywhere shows an accurate acquaintance 
 with the thought of his predecessors and contem- 
 poraries. It is his custom to begin the discussion of 
 any topic by citing the current views in regard to it, 
 and then going on to consider the doctrines of the 
 philosophers. This method he follows under the 
 conviction that no belief has been held by man that 
 does not contain some rational element which has 
 
194 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 commended it to the minds of those who held it. But 
 Aristotle is also convinced that those views are only 
 partial aspects of a more comprehensive truth ; and 
 therefore he makes it his main point to discover what 
 that truth is. This is not the method of Philo. He 
 starts with the assumption that Moses, whom he 
 assumes to have been the author of the Pentateuch, 
 was the possessor of all truth ; and, under this 
 preconception, he proceeds to find in the words of 
 Moses whatever truth he seems to have discovered 
 from any source. The result of course is that he is 
 forced to read into scripture a meaning which it does 
 not possess, so that its plain and simple sense is 
 overlaid with the ideas of his own time. Similarly, 
 he reads the Greek philosophers, not with the object 
 of finding out what they really meant, or of discovering 
 the element of truth which they had grasped, but 
 as witnesses for ideas which belonged to the age in 
 which he lived. Thus, Philo never comes into direct 
 contact with the minds of sacred or profane writers 
 at all, but approaches them with a priori conceptions 
 of what they ought to have said. Of course this 
 criticism is not meant as a charge against Philo : he 
 was simply following the method of his time, and could 
 not do otherwise ; but, in attempting to determine 
 his personal value and influence, we have to bear in 
 mind the character of his mind and the limitations of 
 his age. Especially, in attempting to estimate his 
 influence upon Christian thought, we must have a 
 perfectly clear idea of the fundamental defect of his 
 method. Christian writers of the early centuries 
 borrowed the method of Philo, and even in our own 
 day there are theologians who have not shaken off 
 its influence. 
 
 When we come to enquire whether Philo has 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 195 
 
 influenced the writers of the New Testament, a problem 
 of great difficulty immediately presents itself The 
 influence of one writer upon another cannot be directly 
 inferred from the use of common terms, or a similarity 
 of ideas or expressions. For, two writers may be 
 entirely independent of each other, and may yet 
 express themselves in an almost identical way. Thera 
 are terms and ideas which belong to the atmosphere of 
 an age ; they have come, no one knows whence, and 
 have become the symbols of current modes of thought. 
 We do not, for example, prove that the writer of the 
 fourth Gospel borrowed from Philo, because both speak 
 of the Aoyo? as a manifestation of God. We are safe 
 in saying that the term belonged to the age, but not 
 that the one writer borrowed from the other. For- 
 tunately, the question is of less importance than some 
 writers seem to imagine. Suppose it were proved 
 that St. John adopted the term Aoyo? from Philo, 
 and was even influenced by Philo's doctrine of the 
 Aoyos, the main point is whether both writers attach 
 the same meaning to the term. As we shall see^ 
 this is by no means the case ; and, though historical 
 curiosity would fain be satisfied, in the development 
 of ideas the question is of very subordinate interest. 
 No one will now maintain that the truth of the 
 A6yo9 doctrine as held by St. John is dependent upon 
 the writer not having been influenced by Philo ; for, 
 however he may have been influenced, he employed 
 it to formulate a new idea, which came into the world 
 only with Christianity. 
 
 I have mentioned two difficulties which confront any 
 one who seeks to explain the doctrine of Philo and to 
 estimate his influence. There is another difficulty, 
 which arises from the general character of human 
 progress, Philo presupposes two independent lines of 
 
196 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 development, the Jewish and the Greek. He is thus 
 connected, on the one hand with Jewish, and on the 
 other hand with Greek thought, and it is impossible 
 to understand him fully without some reference to 
 both. Now, it is obviously impossible to treat fully 
 of either ; and the most that I can pretend to do 
 is to indicate, as we proceed, the relation of particular 
 ideas to these two lines of development Without 
 more preamble, I shall attempt to convey some idea 
 of part of Philo's De Mundi Opificio^ as the handiest 
 way of getting an insight into the circle of ideas within 
 which this expositor of Hellenistic Judaism lived and 
 moved.^ 
 
 Philo begins his treatise on the " Creation of the 
 World " by drawing a strong contrast between Moses 
 and other legislators. The first thing to be observed 
 is Philo's belief that the Mosaic writings contain a 
 complete revelation of God, and are absolutely true 
 even in the most minute particular. The Law of 
 Moses is therefore unchangeable and eternal, and will 
 remain as long as the sun and moon and the universe 
 endure. Nor is it merely the Hebrew scriptures which 
 are thus inspired, but the same authority attaches to 
 the Septuagint. No scribe of the straitest sect of 
 the Pharisees had a more implicit faith than Philo 
 in the inspiration of every word and even letter of 
 scripture. 
 
 Since the Mosaic writings, on his view, contain a 
 final revelation of the nature of God and His relation 
 to the world, it follows that they contain all truth, 
 and hence that whatever is true can be extracted from 
 a careful consideration of what they affirm. The 
 distinction between religious and scientific truth, which 
 
 ^The exposition which follows should be compared with the ''Extracts 
 from Philo " contained in the Appendix at the end of the volume. 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 197 
 
 many liberal theologians now make, was one which 
 did not occur to Philo, and which, if it had been 
 presented to him, he would have summarily rejected 
 as impious. As the passage just referred to shows, it 
 is precisely the " philosophical " character of the Mosaic 
 writings which, in his view, constitutes their superiority 
 to all other writings. For Philo the Pentateuch is not 
 merely an expression of the religious consciousness, 
 but a philosophical system, in which each part is set 
 forth with a view to the other parts ; in other words, 
 the Bible is not merely a record of religious experience, 
 but a theology. In Philo's hands, in fact, it becomes 
 almost entirely a theology, even the narrative parts 
 being regarded as part of a system of general con- 
 ceptions. With this method of dealing with Scripture 
 we are only too familiar, and it was mainly through 
 Philo's example and influence that it became the 
 favourite method of Christian writers, and has survived 
 down to our own day. 
 
 The first class of legislators contrasted with Moses 
 are those who simply state ethical principles without 
 showing the basis upon which they depend. We may 
 express Philo's meaning by saying that morality must 
 be based upon religion. When moral precepts are 
 laid down without being shown to flow from the 
 relation of God to the world, and especially to man, 
 it is not seen that the rational nature of man demands 
 something more than external commands. It is for 
 this reason, he holds, that Moses begins by revealing 
 the nature of God, and thus prepares the minds of 
 men for a joyous obedience to the laws. 
 
 The second class of lawgivers are those who do, 
 indeed, attempt to exhibit the divine nature, but distort 
 it by the invention of myths, which give a false idea of 
 God. To Philo a myth is simply a deliberate attempt 
 
198 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 to impose upon the credulous masses. It is significant 
 that Philo, while he here supposes that he is following 
 his favourite philosopher, Plato, in reality .displays a 
 different spirit. To Plato, and even more to Aristotle, 
 a myth was a " noble lie " : it was the first attempt of 
 the human mind to grasp the divine nature; and though 
 Plato criticises the myths of his country, he is willing 
 to allow that myths may be made an important in- 
 strument in the education of the young. Aristotle, 
 again, finds in mythology an implicit philosophy ; so 
 that the mythologist, as he says, is in a sense a 
 philosopher.^ Philo has not this wide range of 
 sympathy. As a Jew he can see in the myths of 
 polytheistic religions nothing but a false representation 
 of the one invisible God. If it is asked how Philo, 
 familiar as he was with the anthropomorphic repre- 
 sentation of God found in the Pentateuch, was not able 
 to find an element of truth in Greek and Oriental 
 mythologies, the answer is that he spiritualized these 
 sayings, and thus eliminated from them the obnoxious 
 element. He therefore distinguishes between allegory 
 and mythology. He admits that, in the Pentateuch, 
 there are things " more incredible than myths " [De 
 Mose, iii. 691); but the incredibility arises from inter- 
 preting literally what was meant by the writer to be 
 understood in an allegorical sense. To suppose that 
 God really planted fruit trees in Paradise, when no 
 one was allowed to live there, and when it would be 
 impious to fancy that He required them for Himself, 
 is " great and incurable silliness." The reference must, 
 therefore, be to the paradise of virtues, with their appro- 
 priate actions, implanted by God in the soul [De Plan. 
 NoCy 8. 9). The objections of cavillers are set aside 
 by a similar process. There are those who sneer 
 
 "^ Metaphysics f A 2, 982* 18 : 6 <pi\6fiv6os ^t\6(ro^6s Trtbs iffri. 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 199 
 
 at the story of the tower of Babel, and think it 
 parallel to Homer's tale about Pelion, Ossa, and 
 Olympus. " The true interpretation is that which sees 
 in the account a portrayal of the universal nature and 
 course of wickedness " {De Conf. Linguar. i ff^. This 
 allegorical method of interpretation is so imbedded in 
 the writings of Philo, from whom it spread to the 
 Fathers of the Church, that it may be well to say a 
 few words about it. 
 
 The allegorical method was to a certain extent 
 employed in the Palestinian schools, but it had its 
 origin in Greece, and was borrowed by later Graeco- 
 Jewish writers. The reverence for antiquity and the 
 belief in inspiration imparted to the writings of the 
 ancient poets a unique value. Thus, Homer became 
 the Bible of the Greek races, and was sometimes 
 regarded not only as inspired but as divine. With 
 the rise of philosophic reflection, Homer was held to 
 contain a full system of philosophy. As new ideas 
 took possession of men's minds, the only method of 
 reconciliation that seemed satisfactory was to ^\v& a 
 symbolical interpretation to passages which offended 
 the moral sense. This method was aided by the 
 concomitant development of the mysteries, in which 
 the history of the Gods was represented by symbolical 
 actions. In the fifth century B.C. the allegorical inter- 
 pretation began to be applied to ancient literature. 
 Thus, Hecataeus explained the story of Cerberus by 
 the existence of a poisonous snake found in a cavern 
 on the headland of Tsenaron. Anaxagoras found in 
 Homer a symbolical account of the movements of 
 mental powers and moral virtues : Zeus was mind, 
 Athene was art. His disciple Metrodorus treated 
 Homeric stories as a symbolical representation of 
 physical phenomena. " The gods were the powers 
 
200 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 of nature : their gatherings, their movements, their 
 loves, and their battles, were the play and interaction 
 and apparent strife of natural forces." ^ 
 
 Now, the same difficulty which had been felt in 
 the Greek world in regard to Homer was felt by 
 the Jews who had studied Greek philosophy in regard 
 to the Pentateuch. Hence, in Philo's time the 
 allegorical method had attained a firm footing among 
 Grseco-Jewish writers. In the Wisdom of Solomon^ 
 it is said that Wisdom, at the time of the Exodus, 
 led the Israelites in a wonderful path, " and became 
 to them a shelter by day and a flame of stars by 
 night." Here the pillar of cloud and of fire is 
 allegorized as Wisdom. The writer, however, does 
 not apply the method to the construction and proof 
 of doctrines. But it was inevitable that a thinker 
 like Philo should follow his favourite writers the Stoics, 
 and interpret the sacred writings in terms of the 
 philosophical doctrines which he had learned from 
 his Greek teachers. In this way he was able to 
 retain his belief in the absolute authority of Moses 
 and at the same time to satisfy his intellect But 
 Philo lacks the keen insight of" Plato and Aristotle, 
 who rejected the symbolic interpretation of the poets, 
 and was entirely unaware that he was reading into the 
 sacred writings ideas that he had brought to them. 
 The allegorical method, however, though it has obscured 
 the deeper truth of the scriptures for centuries, was 
 not without its value ; for in no other way could the 
 essential truth which they contained have been retained 
 by an age that had advanced to a higher stage of 
 development. 
 
 Philo, coming to the account of creation contained 
 
 ^ Hatch's Tke Influence of Greek Ideas and Usages upon the Christian 
 Chiprch^ p. 6i. 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 201 
 
 in Genesis, proceeds to characterize it in terms borrowed 
 from the Platonic philosophy. For Plato the true 
 reality consisted in " ideas " which in the Timaeus he 
 conceives as the thoughts of God as they existed 
 in the divine mind before the creation of the world. 
 This is the aspect of the Platonic ideas upon which 
 Philo naturally fastened, because it best fitted in with 
 his general conception of the transcendence of God 
 and His relation to the visible universe. As we shall 
 immediately see more fully, the world first exists as 
 a connected system of ideas in the divine intelli- 
 gence, and this system is then impressed upon the 
 visible creation, which Philo conceives as distinct and 
 separate from the system of ideas, — the Koa/xog poj^to^, 
 as he usually calls it. We can easily understand how 
 a mind like Philo's, filled with the Jewish conception 
 of God as transcending all finite existence, found in 
 the Platonic conception of archetypal ideas a philo- 
 sophical expression for the relation between God and 
 the world. The creation he therefore conceived, not 
 as a manifestation of God Himself, but as the product 
 of His creative power and wisdom, exhibiting traces 
 of its divine model in the same way as a building 
 or statue is the outward realization of ideas previously 
 existing in the mind of the architect or sculptor. It 
 is worthy of remark that, in thus assimilating Jewish 
 and Greek ideas, Philo is unconsciously transforming 
 the distinctively Jewish conception of God. When the 
 creation of the world is assimilated to the product of 
 human art, the conception of God is not that of a 
 Creator, but of a Divine Architect, who fashions a 
 material already existing. That this idea lay at the 
 basis of Philo's thought is proved by the fact that, 
 as we shall see, he regards matter, not as created but 
 as eternal. Now, this is not the Jewish idea of 
 
202 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 creation ; nor can it be legitimately extracted from the 
 Mosaic account. In Genesis the world is conceived to 
 spring into being as a whole at the word of God, and 
 to depend for its continued existence upon His will. 
 What He has summoned into being He may at a 
 word annihilate. Philo, overmastered by the Greek 
 conception of God, not as the creator^ but as the former 
 of the world, is naturally led to read the scriptural 
 account of creation as if it was the account of the 
 fashioning of an ordered world out of a pre-existent 
 material. Thus the Greek conception triumphs over 
 the Jewish, though^ of this Philo was entirely uncon- 
 scious. It is therefore not without significance that 
 he speaks of the "beauty" {koWo's) of the world ; for 
 " beauty," as conceived by the Greek mind, consisted in 
 the order and harmony presented in visible forms. 
 
 This beauty, Philo tells us, cannot be expressed 
 in human language ; yet he believes that it was 
 apprehended by Moses, who was directly inspired by 
 God ; and, in certain exceptional cases, the vision of 
 the divine nature is permitted to those who attain 
 the state of ecstasy, in which the limitations of the 
 ordinary consciousness are transcended. This higher 
 vision of God is indeed the goal of wisdom, which may 
 be attained by those who. love God. In a sense, there- 
 fore, Philo claimed that inspiration is possible for all 
 men. " Every good and wise man has the gift of 
 prophecy, while it is impossible for the wicked man 
 to become an interpreter of God " ; and he tells us 
 that sometimes " a more solemn word " spoke from 
 his own soul, and he . ventured to write down what 
 it said to him. " I am not ashamed," he says, " to 
 relate the way in which I am myself affected, which I 
 know I have experienced countless times. Intending 
 sometimes to come to my usual occupation of writing 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 203 
 
 the doctrines of philosophy, and having seen exactly 
 what I ought to compose, I have found riy mind fruit- 
 less and barren, and left off without accomplishing 
 anything, reproaching my mind with its self-conceit, 
 and amazed at the power of Him wha is^ by whom 
 it has turned out that the wombs of the soul are 
 opened and closed. But sometimes, having come 
 empty, I suddenly became full, ideas being invisibly 
 showered upon me and planted from above, so that 
 by a divine possession I was filled with enthusiasm, 
 and was absolutely ignorant of the place, of those 
 present, of myself, of what was said, of what was 
 written ; for I had a stream of interpretation, an 
 enjoyment of light, a most keen-scented vision, a most 
 distinct view of the subjects treated, such as would 
 be given through the eyes from the clearest exhibition 
 of an object." ^ But, while he thus claimed inspiration 
 for ail " good men," he " ascribed to the biblical writers, 
 and especially to Moses, a fulness of this divine 
 enthusiasm, and consequent infallibility of utterance, 
 which he claimed for no others." ^ For this reason the 
 Mosaic account of creation is to be accepted with 
 implicit faith, though it can only be truly understood 
 by one who shares in a measure the vision of God. 
 
 Before going on to interpret the Mosaic account of 
 creation, Philo sets aside certain false views which have 
 been held as to the origin of the world. 
 
 He rejects the doctrine of the eternity of the world, 
 which was the prevalent view of the Greek poets and 
 philosophers, maintaining that it could neither exist 
 nor continue but for the productive and providential 
 activity of God. We must be careful, however, not to 
 assume that Philo maintains the doctrine of the 
 absolute origination of all things out of nothing. True 
 
 ^Quoted in Drummond's Philo-JudaeuSy pp. 14-15. ^Ibid.^ p. 15. 
 
204 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 to his conception of God as the supreme architect of 
 the world, he regards formless matter as uncreated. 
 What he rejects is the doctrine that from all eternity- 
 there existed a "cosmos" — a definitely formed or ordered 
 world ; which, indeed, was the view of Aristotle.^ To 
 affirm that the ordered world always existed is, he 
 argues, the same thing as saying that it is indepen- 
 dent of God. Such a doctrine therefore denies the 
 " activity " of God and removes the world beyond His 
 " providence" (Trpovoia). The basis of Philo*s argument 
 is that the orderly arrangement of the world can only 
 be explained as due to the formative activity of God. 
 Adopting the analogy of a human artificer, he conceives 
 of this active or shaping cause as presupposing an 
 unformed matter upon which it operates. Here, 
 therefore, we have the famous argument from design, 
 which has played so important a part in subsequent 
 theological speculation. It must be said, in favour of 
 Philo, that he has a clearer conception of the argument 
 than some of his Christian successors ; he sees that it 
 leads to the idea of God as the supreme architect, not 
 to the conception of a Creator, and therefore he 
 consistently maintains the eternity of matter. On the 
 other hand, he is entirely unconscious that, in thus 
 setting up two opposite principles, he has logically 
 denied the absoluteness of God. For him, God is a 
 Being beyond the world, and complete in Himself. 
 How God can be absolute, while yet there exists 
 independently of Him an eternal "matter," he never 
 seems to have asked. The absoluteness of God he 
 accepted as a religious belief and he conjoins with 
 it the Greek idea of a separate " matter," not seeing that 
 the two ideas are mutually exclusive. Coming to the 
 study of scripture with this preconception, he attributes 
 
 ^ Cf. Aristotle's De Coelo, i. lo. 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 205 
 
 the same inconsistency to Moses. When he read that 
 "the spirit of God moved upon the water," he 
 interpreted this as meaning that God acted upon 
 unformed matter. The same view had already been 
 suggested in the Wisdom of Solomon^ where the writer, 
 speaking of the miracles wrought at the time of the 
 Exodus, says that " the whole creation in its own kind 
 was again impressed anew." " This language suggests 
 the comparison of matter to a lump of wax, which is 
 capable of receiving the impression of various seals. 
 Thus the conversion of chaos into cosmos is the 
 author's highest idea of creation." Philo was, therefore, 
 in his doctrine of the formation of the world out of a 
 primeval " matter," adopting a view which, under the 
 influence of Greek ideas, had probably in his day 
 become a received tenet ; and it is quite in accordance 
 with his general want of independence and originality, 
 that he should have accepted it without seeing its 
 incompatibility with his Jewish belief in the absolute- 
 ness of God. 
 
 Philo has another reason for denying the eternity of 
 the world. If the world is eternal it is self-subsistent ; 
 and this is the same as saying that it is not subject to 
 the providence of God,- — a doctrine which is subversive 
 of all religion. The visible world is in continual 
 process or genesis, and therefore it cannot be self- 
 subsistent It is thus presupposed by Philo that 
 eternity and process are mutually incompatible ideas. 
 Accordingly, he draws a strong contrast between the 
 ideal world, which is eternal and unchangeable, and the 
 sensible world, which is never the same at two successive 
 moments. Whatever comes into being presupposes 
 that which does not come into being. This is the 
 argument afterwards elaborated as what Kant calls the 
 cosmological argument, or more popularly the argument 
 
206 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 from the finite and changeable to a first cause. In 
 Philo*s hands, it implies an absolute distinction between 
 the ideal and the sensible world ; and thus leads to the 
 difficulty how there can be any contact between two 
 realms which are conceived as the opposite of each 
 other. How Philo seeks to bridge the gulf we shall 
 immediately see. Meanwhile, let us consider the 
 manner in which he extracts from the Mosaic account 
 of creation his own doctrine of the separate existence 
 of an ideal or intelligible world. 
 
 In his manner of doing so we have an instance of 
 the method by which he imposes upon the text a sense 
 entirely foreign to it. The plain and simple meaning 
 of the scriptural account of creation is that the world 
 was brought into existence in six natural days. In 
 modern times the futile attempt has been made to 
 show that by " days " was meant " periods of time." 
 This thoroughly false method of exegesis is based upon 
 the same assumption as that which led to Philo*s 
 extravagances — the assumption that the cosmology of 
 Genesis must be absolutely true. In our day the 
 difficulty arising from this untenable view has been that 
 it contradicts the established results of science. There 
 is no escape from the quagmire of artificial interpretation 
 except by the frank recognition that the scriptural 
 account is simply a primitive attempt to construct a 
 cosmology, which cannot now be accepted. Nor can 
 we find any satisfactory way out of the difficulty by 
 saying that, while the cosmogony is unsatisfactory as a 
 scientific theory, the conception of God which it reveals 
 to us is beyond cavil. The conception of God con- 
 tained in the Old Testament is not adequate. If it 
 were, the new revelation of God's nature given in 
 Christianity would be superfluous. The difficulty can 
 only be overcome by the application of the idea of 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 207 
 
 development. The Jewish conception of God is the 
 highest point reached prior to Christianity, but it has 
 been superseded by the fuller conception expressed by 
 our Lord ; and it is a serious practical question whether 
 it is justifiable to cover up so palpable a truth by vague 
 phrases about the sublimity of the Hebrew conception 
 of God. 
 
 Philo's difficulty did not spring from the discrepancy 
 between his scientific and theological beliefs ; for there 
 was nothing in the science of his day to give him 
 pause. His problem was to retain the philosophical 
 conception of God which he had formed by an 
 amalgam of Jewish and Greek ideas. His great 
 difficulty was that the scriptural account of creation 
 seemed to be infected with an untenable anthropo- 
 morphism. It represented God, after the manner of 
 man, as limited by time, and passing in succession from 
 one form of activity to another. This conception, as 
 he thought, cannot be admitted, and therefore it cannot 
 be what Moses meant. God is not such an one as 
 ourselves : He does all things at once : there is no 
 interval between His purpose to create, and the actual 
 creation ; He does not first, as we do, frame a 
 conception of what He will do, and then proceed to 
 realize it in successive stages; but by His mere thought 
 the world is formed, and formed as a whole. The act 
 of creation is therefore independent of time. What, 
 then, is meant by saying that the world was made in 
 six days ? By this we are to understand, not that the 
 heavens were first created, but that the heavens are in 
 the order of excellence the highest of all created things. 
 The world as a whole is a " cosmos " — an ordered or 
 organic system — in which each part, though in itself 
 imperfect, contributes to the perfection of the whole. 
 Now, Moses cannot have declared that the world was 
 
208 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 made in six days, without a deliberate purpose. Why 
 six rather than any other number? Here Philo makes 
 use of the Pythagorean doctrine of numbers, which in 
 his day had again come into vogue by the influence of 
 the Neo-Pythagoreans. According to them the number 
 6 has a productive or vital power (^i^^wo-f?), being the 
 product of 3, a male number, and of 2, a female 
 number: and it is a "perfect" number, because it is the 
 sum of its factors : 1 + 2 + 3 = 6. 
 
 In the passage following we have a good instance 
 of the manner in which Philo imposes upon the words 
 of scripture a philosophical doctrine which was suggested 
 to him by Plato. What we find in Genesis is the simple 
 statement : " God called the light day, and the darkness 
 he called night ; and there was evening and there was 
 morning, one day {rjfxipa fxla)"^ But Philo is determined 
 to find in scripture the distinction between the ideal and 
 the sensible world, and therefore he fastens upon the 
 words " one day," interpreting them as indicating, not 
 the first day of the creation of the visible universe, but 
 the unity of the ideal world. Besides, " one " is the 
 *' ideal " number, the prototype of all other numbers, 
 but occupying a unique place. Further, Genesis speaks 
 of the earth as " invisible and unformed '* {aoparo^ kcu 
 cLKaraa-Keuaa-To^), which Philo takes to mean the ideal 
 earth, as existing prior to the visible earth, i.e. as one 
 of the ideas constituting the " ideal world " (jcocr^o^ 
 votjTog), Who then, in the face of such strong evi- 
 dence, could doubt that Moses, in his account of the 
 first day of creation, was speaking of the creation of 
 the ideal world ! 
 
 The creation of the ideal world, then, was prior to 
 the construction of the visible world. How Philo 
 harmonized this temporal precedence of the ideal to 
 
 ^ See the " Extract from the Septuagint " in the Appendix. 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 209 
 
 the real with his doctrine, that time has no existence 
 prior to the origin of the visible universe, he does not 
 tell us ; probably he would have said tliat we can only 
 represent under the form of a temporal succession what 
 is rather an order of dependence. But if he had 
 followed out this line of thought, he must have seen 
 that it was inconsistent with the very idea of a genesis 
 in time of the world. If time begins with the existence 
 of the visible universe, we cannot speak of a time prior 
 to its existence. Philo, however, is not a clear or con- 
 sistent thinker ; and therefore, while he separates the 
 creation of the ideal world from the formation of the 
 sensible world, he speaks of the former as prior to 
 the latter. 
 
 The ideal world, which was first created by God, is 
 the pattern or archetype of the sensible world, corre- 
 sponding part for part with it. This conception is of 
 course borrowed from Plato, who represents the ideas 
 after this manner in the Timaeus, though he is not 
 unaware that he is using a figure of speech, which must 
 not be too closely pressed. Philo is very little dis- 
 turbed by such considerations, and seems to have been 
 perfectly satisfied with the analogy to a human artist 
 who frames in his mind a general conception and then 
 proceeds to translate it into a visible shape. Having 
 formed in His mind the ideal world, God employed 
 it as a model after which He constructed the visible 
 world. We have therefore to imagine the unformed 
 matter of the universe as already existing, and the 
 divine Artificer as moulding it into a cosmos, as the 
 sculptor moulds the block of marble. I shall not 
 dwell upon the inadequacy of such a conception. 
 It is enough to say that " matter," as an unformed 
 independent substance, is an idea to which no 
 intelligible meaning can be attached ; and that 
 
 o 
 
2IO PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 modern theology cannot take a single step without 
 getting rid of this phantom. 
 
 As the ideal world is beyond and prior to the sensible 
 world, so it has no local habitation. " Just as the idea 
 of a city which he proposes to construct has no exist- 
 ence in space, but is stamped upon the soul of the 
 architect, so the ideal world can have no other place 
 than the divine intelligence (\6yo9\ which gives order 
 to the various ideas. For what other place can there 
 be for the divine powers, which is capable of receiving 
 and containing, I do not say all the powers, but any 
 one of them in its purity ? " 
 
 Still following the analogy of the human artificer and 
 his work, Philo tells us that the ideal world has no 
 local habitation. It may be that he was opposing the 
 ordinary view of the Jews of his day that heaven had 
 a definite position in some part of the spatial universe ; 
 in any case, he maintains that the ideas exist only in 
 the divine mind. These ideas he also calls " powers," 
 because they not only exist in the divine mind, but are 
 an expression of the divine self-active reason. 
 
 We cannot, therefore, separate the divine powers 
 from the divine ideas, or either from the divine Reason 
 (Xoyog). The ideas, as we may say, are the eternal 
 forms of God's self-activity. They proceed from God,, 
 in the sense that they are the modes which His eternal 
 energy assumes. Philo, however, conceives of the self- 
 active energy of God as existing prior to the formation 
 of the visible world, for it is his view, as we have seen, 
 that the ideal world exists prior to the generation of the 
 sensible world, just as the artist frames a conception of 
 the object which he proposes to bring into visible exist- 
 ence before he constructs it. No doubt Philo repeatedly 
 warns us that we cannot comprehend the inner nature 
 of the ideal world ; but this warning is based upon his 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 211 
 
 assumption that God, as absolutely separated from the 
 world, is incomprehensible. Because of this fundamental 
 dualism, nothing was left for him but to take refuge in 
 metaphor and analogy. 
 
 The divine " powers," of which Philo has previously 
 spoken, constitute in their completeness the divine 
 reason in its infinite perfection. The sensible world, 
 on the other hand, bears the impress, not of the 
 complete nature of God, but only of His goodness. 
 The same thought had already been expressed in the 
 Wisdom of Solomon. " The whole world is, in the sight 
 of God, as a weight out of a balance, and as an early 
 drop of dew when it has come down upon the earth." 
 Possessing infinite power to carry out His purposes, God 
 must have acted from love in creating the world, and 
 this love must embrace all that is, for if God had hated 
 anything He would not have made it. The conception 
 of the goodness of God as the motive of creation Philo 
 therefore borrowed from Jewish sources. No doubt 
 Plato speaks of " the good '' as the supreme idea, and 
 identifies it with God ] but by " the good " he means the 
 total rational nature of the Divine Reality, not a limited 
 manifestation of it In this case, therefore, Philo's 
 Jewish belief has overmastered his Greek training. 
 
 The world, then, exhibits the goodness or love of 
 God, but it is not a complete expression of His good- 
 ness, much less of His infinite perfection. Apart from 
 the action of God upon it, "matter" would have remained 
 in its original state of chaos, — indeterminate, changeless, 
 lifeless ; but, as it is entirely passive, it is capable of 
 being reduced to order, system, and harmony. Thus 
 we can infer from the actual order of the visible universe 
 that a divine formative activity has been applied to it. 
 Nor has God been aided in the work of creation by any 
 but Himself, for indeed prior to the creation there was 
 
212 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 no other.^ The love of God is infinite, but the finite 
 is unable to receive all that God is willing to bestow, 
 and would have sunk exhausted, had He not measured 
 His bounty by the ability of each to receive it. This 
 explains why the world does not fully express the 
 absolute goodness of God. That the world is an 
 imperfect copy of the ideal world Philo shows by an 
 ingenious, but untenable, reading of scripture. Man, 
 we are told, was " made after the image of God." 
 This Philo does not understand in the plain and 
 obvious sense that man shares in a measure the 
 nature of God, but in the sense that man is a copy 
 of the ideal man, which, like the whole ideal world, 
 is a product of the Divine Reason. If man, who is 
 only a part of the visible universe, is "made after the 
 image of God," must we not conclude that the whole 
 visible universe is a copy of the ideal universe ? Thus 
 Philo preserves the absoluteness and inscrutability of 
 the divine nature, while seeming to explain the activity 
 of God as impressed upon the visible universe. 
 
 Convinced that the account in Genesis of the first 
 day of creation must refer to the origin, not of the 
 sensible but of the ideal or intelligible world (Koo-fiog 
 votjTo^), Philo proceeds to show that from that account 
 we may gain some idea of the various parts of this 
 ideal world in the order of their rank. 
 
 Philo, as we have already seen, puts the creation of 
 the ideal world out of time. " In the beginning God 
 made the heavens and the earth'' means that, before 
 the visible universe came into being, there already 
 existed an ideal world which had no reality except in 
 the divine mind. Time is the succession of states 
 exhibited by the heavens in its revolution ; and as 
 
 ^This shows that, although Philo sometimes personifies the Logos, 
 he conceived it as inseparable from God. 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 213 
 
 llhere can be no motion prior to the thing moved, 
 time or succession could not exist prior to the creation 
 of the visible heavens. We cannot properly say that 
 the sensible world was made in time, but only that 
 time subsists through the sensible world. The heavens 
 were made " first " in the sense that in the divine mind 
 heaven is first in the order of thought, because the 
 highest in rank. Such an order of subordination is, 
 indeed, essential to the beauty of the ideal world. 
 This distinction between the ideal world as eternal,, 
 and the sensible world as temporal, Philo borrowed 
 from Plato, who distinguishes between infinite time,. 
 aldovj and originated time, ■)(^p6vo9 {Tim. 37 D), regard- 
 ing the latter as dependent upon motion. Aristotle 
 and the Stoics also connect time with motion, but 
 they differ from Plato and Philo in regarding the 
 world as eternal, and therefore time as also eternal. 
 
 So far by following Philo closely in his treatise on 
 the creation of the world we have gained a fair idea of 
 his exegetical method and a general outline of his 
 philosophy. It will now be necessary to give a more 
 summary statement of his system. We have seen that 
 his ideas revolve about certain central points — the abso- 
 luteness of God, the divine Reason, the divine powers, 
 and ideas, the visible creation, including man, and its 
 relation to God. These points we must now consider 
 more in detail j and first as to the absoluteness of 
 God. 
 
 Philo affirms, in the most unqualified way, that it is 
 absolutely impossible for man to know the inner nature 
 of God. " The divine realm," he says, ** is truly untrodden 
 and unapproachable, nor is the purest understanding 
 able to ascend even to such a height as to have a 
 direct perception of the self-existent Being. When 
 it is said that man cannot see the ' face ' of God, this 
 
214 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 is Tiot to be taken literally, but is a figurative way of 
 suggesting the absolutely pure and unmixed idea of the 
 self-existent Being, because the peculiar nature and 
 form of man is best known by his face. For God 
 does not say, ' I am by nature invisible ' — for who 
 can be more visible than He who has originated all 
 other visible things ? — but He says, ' Though I am by 
 nature visible, no man has seen me/ And the cause 
 lies in the weakness of the creature. To speak 
 plainly, we must become God — which is impossible — 
 before we can comprehend God." Philo, then, main- 
 tained that the human mind is by its very nature 
 for ever precluded from comprehending the inner nature 
 of God : to know God as He is, we must be God. 
 This does not mean that God is in His own nature 
 incomprehensible : He is known to Himself as He 
 truly is : but His very greatness makes it impossible 
 that any finite being should comprehend Him. 
 
 This doctrine of the absolute incomprehensibility of 
 God Philo finds in scripture. " In Deuteronomy xxxii. 
 39, we read : 'Behold, behold that I am, and there is 
 no God beside me.' Now here, God does not say, 
 ' Behold me ' — ^for it is impossible for the creature at 
 all to comprehend God in His inner being — but, 
 * Behold that I am,' z.e. contemplate my existence; for 
 it is enough for human reason to attain to the know- 
 ledge that there is and exists a cause of the universe ; 
 and any attempt to go further and discover the essence 
 or determinate nature of this cause is the source of all 
 folly." 
 
 As God cannot be grasped by thought, so His 
 nature cannot be expressed in human language : there 
 is no name which is fitted to express that which is 
 incomprehensible and therefore inexpressible. This 
 also, Philo argues, is the doctrine of scripture. When 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 215 
 
 Moses asked by what name he should designate the 
 Being who sent him, the divine answer was : " I am 
 He who is " {eyw eifxi 6 &v : Exod. iii. 1 4) ; which was 
 equivalent to, " It is my nature to be, not to be 
 named." 
 
 Since God is incomprehensible and inexpressible, He 
 is without qualities {airoio^). " He who thinks that 
 God has qualities/' says Philo, " or that He is not one, 
 or is not uncreated and imperishable, or is not im- 
 mutable, injures himself, not God." 
 
 In thus removing God beyond the sphere of definite 
 thought and speech, and denying that He has qualities, 
 it was not Philo's intention to affirm that God is a 
 purely abstract or indeterminate being ; what he meant 
 was that God was infinitely concrete, and hence cannot 
 be characterized by any of the predicates which we 
 apply to the finite. " It is impious,*' he says, " to think 
 of anything as better than the cause of all things, since 
 nothing is equal to Him, nothing a little lower, but 
 everything after God is found to have descended by a 
 whole genus." The distinction, in other words, between 
 the Finite and Infinite is absolute, so that no predicate 
 which we apply to the finite can be applied in the 
 same sense to the Infinite ; yet this is not because 
 the Infinite contains less than the finite, but because it 
 contains infinitely more. Here, in Philo, we have that 
 curious alternation between the absolutely abstract and 
 the absolutely concrete which was afterwards developed 
 by Spinoza. This contradiction is smoothed over by 
 the doctrine that the highest predicates which we apply 
 to the absolute are merely " similitudes and forms " ; 
 they are the human symbols of what cannot be 
 expressed adequately in language. How we can know 
 that these predicates are symbols of what we do not 
 know, Philo does not tell us ; in truth, no solution of 
 
2i6 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 the contradiction is possible, so long as the absolute 
 incomprehensibility of God is maintained ; and we 
 have therefore to fall back upon the compromise, which 
 has again and again been called into service, that, 
 while we do not know God, He gives us in the ideals 
 that impress our souls an adumbration of His nature, 
 which is enough to reveal to us how infinitely perfect 
 He really is. Philo, therefore, allows himself to 
 characterize God by these highest predicates. God is 
 primarily the self-determining Reason, the first cause 
 of the universe. Hence, He must be conceived as 
 " the uncreated and eternal cause of all things." He 
 is also absolutely one and indivisible, the archetypal 
 unity. " Though existing outside of the creation, He 
 has none the less filled the world with Himself ; " but 
 He does so, not because He is diffused through space 
 and time — for He is above both — but because the 
 influence of His creative will is manifested in every 
 part of creation. And, as we have already seen, He 
 communicates of His infinite goodness to the finite as 
 much as it is able to receive. 
 
LECTURE NINTH 
 
 PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT {Concluded) 
 
 At our last meeting we were engaged in the attempt 
 to understand the general doctrine of Philo, especially 
 as indicated in his De Mundi Opificio, In that work 
 Philo expresses his belief that the Pentateuch contains 
 a complete and final revelation. This belief extends 
 to the Septuagint, every word and even letter of 
 which he regards as inspired. The modern distinction 
 between scientific and religious truth he would have 
 rejected as impious. For him the Mosaic writings 
 contain a complete philosophy or theology, and this he 
 regards as the main superiority of Moses over all other 
 law-givers. This view he seeks to establish by the 
 method of allegory, a method which was borrowed 
 from Greek writers, and in Philo's time was generally 
 accepted by Graeco-Jewish thinkers. By the use of 
 this method Philo is enabled to find in scripture the 
 philosophical doctrines which he has borrowed from his 
 Greek teachers. The result is an extraordinary com- 
 mingling of Greek and Jewish ideas. Accordingly, the 
 account of creation contained in Genesis is characterized 
 in terms borrowed from the Platonic philosophy. The 
 world is first produced in the Divine Mind, and is thus 
 the archetype of the visible universe. Philo, while 
 
2i8 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 holding fast by the Jewish conception of God as 
 transcending all finite existence, unconsciously trans- 
 forms it, under the influence of Greek ideas, into the 
 very different conception of God as the Architect or 
 Former of the world, not its Creator. Hence for him 
 " matter " is uncreated and eternal. The " beauty " of 
 the cosmos is not comprehensible by the ordinary 
 mind, but it is visible at times to those who attain 
 by philosophical contemplation to the state of " en- 
 thusiasm." Even they, however, never reach that 
 fulness of divine illumination, and consequent infalli- 
 bility of utterance, which was granted to the biblical 
 writers, and above all to Moses ; and hence every word 
 of Moses has a deep spiritual meaning. While Philo 
 admits the eternity of " matter," he rejects as impious 
 the prevalent view of the Greek poets and philosophers, 
 that the " world " is eternal. Such a doctrine denies 
 the creative activity and the providence of God. In 
 proof of the former he employs the argument from 
 " design," which he extracts from scripture by his usual 
 allegorical method ; interpreting the statement that 
 " the spirit of God moved upon the water " as meaning 
 that "God acted upon unformed matter." This 
 doctrine is already implied in the Wisdom of Solomon ; 
 and, as we may conclude, was an accepted belief in 
 Philo's time. The eternity of the world, again, is 
 subversive of the providence of God, because that 
 which already exists apart from the creative energy of 
 God, must be entirely independent of Him. Hence 
 Philo here employs what Kant calls the " cosmological " 
 argument : the finite and changing presupposes the 
 infinite and unchanging. Philo, however, absolutely 
 separates the energy of God from its manifestation in 
 the world, and therefore he has to attempt to connect 
 the one with the other by the interposition of sub- 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 219 
 
 ordinate " powers/' In our time the " six days " of 
 creation have been held by some to mean " six ages." 
 Philo has a more trenchant method of reconciling his 
 philosophical creed with the text of scripture. In his 
 view God cannot be truly represented as acting in 
 time, and therefore he holds that the " six days " of 
 creation are meant to indicate the order of superiority 
 in the visible universe, not the order of tim.e. The 
 " heavens " are said to have been created " first/' 
 because they are " the first/' i.e, the ** highest " of all 
 created things. Further, there is a mystical signifi- 
 cance in the " six '' ; for " six/' as Philo learned from 
 the Pythagoreans, is a " perfect " number, and, as at 
 once male and female (odd and even), it is " productive " 
 or " generative " ; hence, it was intentionally chosen as 
 the number expressive of the *' perfect creation/' This 
 interpretation, as Philo argues, is confirmed by the use 
 of the term " one day " (jjfxepa julIo) ; for this signifies 
 the absolute " oneness " of the " intelligible " or " ideal " 
 cosmos — the cosmos existing in the divine mind. 
 Hence the beginning of Genesis (chap, i.) gives an 
 account of the eternal creation of the archetypal world, 
 not of the visible universe. If further proof were 
 needed, does not Moses speak of the earth as " invisible 
 and unformed " (aopaTO^ Kai aKaTaa-Kcvao'TO^) — showing 
 that he was speaking of the " ideal " earth, the earth as 
 it existed in the divine mind prior to the formation of 
 the " visible " earth ? Philo, therefore, proceeds to 
 explain the creation of the world by an elaborate 
 comparison of the Creator to a human architect. No 
 doubt he warns us that the analogy is imperfect ; but 
 the reason he gives is that God, as separated from the 
 world, is incomprehensible. This is the real explana- 
 tion of his continual practice of falling back upon 
 metaphors, which explain nothing. The divine 
 
220 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 " powers," already mentioned, constitute the divine 
 reason. The sensible world, however, as Philo now 
 explains, does not bear the impress of the complete 
 nature of God, but only of His "goodness." The 
 same thought had already appeared in the Wisdom 
 of Solomon. This is an instance in which Philo*s 
 Jewish belief overmastered his Greek training ; for 
 " the good " in Plato is another term for the perfection 
 of God, not a special attribute. Philo's explanation of 
 this limitation in the manifestation of God is that, 
 while the divine love is infinite, the finite is unable 
 to receive all that God is willing to bestow. That the 
 world is an imperfect copy of the ideal world Philo 
 finds to be the teaching of scripture, in which we read 
 that man was "made after the image of God"; i.e. 
 man is a "copy" of the "image of God," — in other 
 words, of the "ideal" man, as he exists in the divine 
 mind. And as man is only a part of the visible 
 universe, we must infer that the whole universe is a 
 copy of the ideal universe ; which, again, is the product 
 of the divine " powers." Thus Philo seeks to preserve- 
 the absoluteness and inscrutability of the divine nature, 
 while claiming that God is the ultimate Cause of all 
 things. Convinced that the account in Genesis of the 
 first day of creation must refer to the origin, not of 
 the " sensible " but of the " ideal " world, Philo proceeds 
 to show that from it we may gain some idea of the 
 various parts of this ideal world in the order of their 
 rank. The creation of the " ideal " world is not in 
 time ; for time, as the succession of states exhibited by 
 the heavens in its revolution, could not exist prior 
 to the creation of the visible heavens. The heavens 
 are first in rank or ideal beauty, and this is what is 
 meant by " in the beginning God made the heavens." 
 From this analysis of the opening of Philo*s treatise we 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 221 
 
 see that his ideas revolve around certain central points, 
 — (i) the absoluteness of God, (2) the divine \6y09, 
 (3) the visible creation, including man. 
 
 Philo affirms, in the most unqualified way, that 
 it is impossible for man to comprehend the nature 
 of God. As incomprehensible, God is inexpressible, 
 and therefore is said to be without qualities. Philo, 
 however, does not mean that God is purely abstract, 
 but only that all the predicates by which created 
 things are characterized are inadequate to express the 
 Infinite. Thus his doctrine alternates, like the Sub- 
 stance of Spinoza, between the absolutely indeterminate 
 and the infinitely determinate. He is really committed, 
 by the logic of his system, to the former, but he means 
 to assert the latter. God is absolutely one and indi- 
 visible ; but, though He exists beyond creation. He has 
 filled the world with Himself 
 
 In resuming our study of Philo and attempting 
 to estimate his possible influence on the New Testa- 
 ment, it is especially necessary to have a clear con- 
 ception of his doctrine of the Logos, because here, if 
 anywhere, we may expect to find the main point of 
 contact between his philosophy and the formulation 
 of Christian ideas. 
 
 The term \6yo^^ in its ordinary use, means either 
 thought or speech. This double meaning is made use 
 of by Philo to explain the relation subsisting between 
 the intelligible or ideal world, which exists only in the 
 divine mind, and the sensible universe which is its 
 visible embodiment and image. " The \6yo^," says 
 Philo, " is two-fold in the universe and in the nature of 
 man. In the universe there is, on the one hand, the 
 'koyoq which has to do with the incorporeal and arche- 
 typal ideas constituting the intelligible cosmos, and, 
 on the other hand, the \6yos which is concerned with 
 
222 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 visible things, these being copies and imitations of 
 the ideas from which this sensible cosmos has been 
 fashioned. In man, again, there is, on the one hand^ 
 the \6yos ivScdOeTog (inner reason), and, on the other 
 hand, the Xoyog irpotpopiKo^ (outer reason). The former 
 is like a fountain, the latter — the expressed X6yo9 — 
 like the stream which flows forth from it ; the seat 
 of the one is in the ruling part (to riyefxoviKov), the 
 seat of the other — that which is expressed — is in the 
 tongue and mouth and all the other organs of 
 speech. . . . Two virtues have been assigned to it, 
 expression (^jyXwcri?) and truth (aX?/0eta) ; for the 
 \6yos of nature is true and expressive of all things,, 
 and the Xoyo^ of the wise man, imitating the 
 \6yo9 of nature, ought therefore to be absolutely in- 
 capable of falsehood ; it ought to honour truth, and 
 obscure nothing from envy, the knowledge of which 
 can benefit those who have been instructed by it. Not 
 but what there have been assigned to the two forms of 
 the X6yo9 in us two appropriate virtues — to the \6yo^ 
 'TTpocfyopiKog the virtue of expression (SijXoxng), and to 
 the Xoyos in the mind the virtue of truth {aXYjQeia) ; 
 for it is not fitting that the mind should accept any- 
 thing false, or that declaration (kpfj^yivela) should be 
 a hindrance to the most precise expression of truth." 
 In this passage Philo draws a parallel between the 
 microcosm and the macrocosm. Thought and speech 
 in man are related to each other, as the intelligible 
 cosmos is related to the sensible cosmos. As in man 
 the inner source is the intelligence, which is revealed 
 outwardly in speech ; so the archetypal ideas, which 
 exist only in the divine intelligence, are expressed in 
 the sensible cosmos, an imitation or copy of these 
 ideas. The Xoyoq of the intelligible world constitutes 
 its order and harmony, and from this same Xoyo^ 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 223 
 
 proceeds the order and harmony which is found in 
 the visible universe in an outward form. Thus the 
 intelligible and the sensible universe correspond as 
 perfectly as truth and its outward expression in lan- 
 guage. Hence man in grasping by his intelligence the 
 order and harmony of the visible universe will attain 
 to truth, and this truth he will adequately express 
 when his language is the precise and accurate utter- 
 ance of his thought. 
 
 In this instructive passage we see how Philo sought 
 to preserve the absolute inscrutability of God, and 
 yet to explain how it is possible for man to have 
 in a certain sense a knowledge of God. Though in 
 His inner essence incomprehensible by any but Himself, 
 God has created the intelligible cosmos by His self- 
 activity. From this intelligible cosmos, which con- 
 stitutes the divine Xoyos, is to be distinguished the 
 visible cosmos, which is its outward expression. Thus 
 the \6yos is, on its inner side, the Thought of God, 
 and on its outer side the Word of God. The Word 
 is therefore in Philo the rational order manifested in 
 the visible cosmos ; in modern language it is the 
 system of laws constituting the permanent and abiding 
 element in all the changes of phenomena. To com- 
 prehend this system is therefore to grasp the outward 
 expression of the divine intelligence. 
 
 Since he holds that God always remains in absolute 
 unity with Himself, Philo naturally represents the 
 Xoyo^ as the instrument of creation, while God is the 
 ultimate cause. " God is the cause," he says, " not 
 instrument. Whatever comes into being is produced 
 by means of an instrument, but by the cause of all 
 things. In the production of anything there must 
 co-operate (i) that by which it is made; (2) iS\^.tfrom 
 which it is made ; (3) that through which it is made ; 
 
224 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 (4) that on account of which it is made ; in other 
 words, (i) the cause, (2) the matter, (3) the instrument, 
 (4) the reason or purpose (alrla). Thus, in the pro- 
 duction of a house or a whole city there must co-operate, 
 (i) the architect, (2) the stones and timber, (3) the 
 instruments. Now, the architect is the cause dj/ which 
 the house is made, the stones and timber are the 
 ' matter ' from which the building is made, the instru- 
 ments are the things through which it is made, and (4) 
 the reason of its being made is to afford shelter and 
 protection. Passing from particular things, look at 
 the production of that greatest of all buildings or 
 cities, the world, and you will find that God is the 
 cause by whom it has been produced, that the matter 
 is the four elements from which it is put together, and 
 the instrument is the \6'yo<s of God through which it 
 has been formed, and the reason of its existence is 
 the goodness of the Creator" (I. 161, §3S). 
 
 The Xofyo^ is here distinguished from God, as the 
 instrument from the cause. Following the analogy of 
 a human architect, and adopting the Aristotelian 
 distinction of the efficient cause, the matter, the instru- 
 ment and the end, Philo represents the visible universe 
 as a vast temple or city, the orderly arrangement of 
 which is due to the Xofyo^, i.e. the outer expression 
 of the divine word. The \6yo^ or Word is therefore 
 the instrument employed by God in the creation of the 
 world. The Word is not the cause of the world — 
 the primal energy from which it has proceeded — but the 
 means by which the world has received its order and 
 system. 
 
 As the X0709 is the instrument by means of which 
 God made the world, it is in its nature intermediate 
 between God and man. It is therefore " neither 
 unbegotten as God, nor begotten as man" (I. 502), but 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 225 
 
 is eternally begotten ; in other words, the Xoyog has 
 not come into being in time, but is eternal ; while, on 
 the other hand, it is not self-creative, but is dependent 
 upon the original creative energy of God. Philo's 
 view may therefore be summed up in the phrase : the 
 Xoyo^ is eternally begotten, not made. 
 
 Again, when the Xoyog is viewed as the expressed 
 thought or Word, and therefore as the rational prin- 
 ciple of the visible cosmos, it is called the ** eldest '' or 
 " first-born Son " of God (Trpea-^uraTo? uto? — Trpooro- 
 yovo9 uto9, I. 414, 308). Hence we find Philo saying 
 that " the eldest Xoyo? of the self-existent Being puts 
 on the cosmos as a garment, for it arrays itself in 
 earth and water and air and fire and their products, as 
 the individual soul is clothed with the body, and the 
 mind of the wise man with the virtues." " The Xoyo^ 
 of the self-existent Being," he adds, " is the bond (Sea-fAog) 
 of all things, which holds together and closely unites 
 all the parts, preventing them from being loosened and 
 separated" (I. S92). By the "first-born Son of God," 
 we are therefore to understand that ideal bond or law 
 which determines the order and harmony of the visible 
 universe. Philo, however, conceives of the Word not 
 merely as the law of nature, but as the law which 
 determines the course of human life, and especially the 
 destiny of states and nations. "Once Greece flourished," 
 he says, " but the Macedonians deprived it of its bloom. 
 Then Macedonia had its period of power, but it was 
 gradually dismembered, and finally its authority entirely 
 perished. Prior to the Macedonians the Persians were 
 prosperous, but in a single day their vast and mighty 
 kingdom was overthrown. And now the Parthians are 
 more powerful than the Persians, who but the other 
 day were their masters. Egypt once had a long and 
 glorious career, but like a cloud its great dominion has 
 
226 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 passed away. Where are the Ethiopians, where are 
 Carthage and Libya? Where are the kings of the 
 Pontus ? What has befallen Europe and Asia, and, in 
 a word, the whole habitable world ? Is it not tossed up 
 and down and agitated like a ship at sea — at one time 
 sailing under prosperous winds and again struggling 
 with contrary gales? For the divine Xoyo^^ which 
 most men call fortune (tiJ^;/), moves in a circle. Ever 
 flowing on, it acts upon cities and nations, assigning the 
 possessions of one to another, exchanging the posses- 
 sions of each by periods, but ever making for the 
 conversion of the whole habitable world into one city, 
 with that highest form of polity, democracy" (I. 298). 
 
 The Xoyog is also called " the man of God." As 
 such it is called the " father " of all noble men, " a 
 father not mortal, but immortal " ; and as the 
 " heavenly man " (ovpdvio? avOpwiro^) it is opposed to 
 Adam, the *' earthly man " (TJ/iVo? avOpwrro^). 
 
 The \6yog is also called the " second God." " Why 
 does Moses say,*' he asks, " that God ' made man in 
 the image of God,' as if he were speaking of another 
 God, and not of Himself? This mode of expression 
 is beautifully and wisely chosen. For no mortal 
 could be made in the image of the most high God, 
 the Father of the universe, but only in the image 
 of the second God (Sevrepog Oeog), who is the \6y09 
 of the other. For it was fitting that the rational 
 (XoyiKog) im pression on the soul of man should be 
 engraved by the divine Xoyo^, since the God prior 
 to the X6yo9 is higher than every rational nature, 
 and it was not lawful for any created being to be 
 made like Him who is above reason." 
 
 Philo's whole system of thought compels him to 
 interpose the \6yog between the incomprehensible 
 and self-contained God and man, and hence man as 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 227 
 
 a rational being is the image of the Xoyo^^ which is 
 itself an image of God. It was therefore natural for 
 Philo to represent the \6yog as the mediator between 
 God and man. " The Father," he says, " the creator 
 of the universe, has given to the \6yog the privilege 
 of standing as the mediator between the Creator and 
 that which He has made. And this same \6yog is an 
 intercessor (iKertjs) to the immortal God in behalf of 
 the afflicted race of mankind." As the eternal Word 
 of God, the \6yos maintains the universe in perpetuity, 
 and secures the permanence and order of human 
 society. As an " intercessor," the \6yog is naturally 
 called the "high priest." 
 
 So far the Xo<yo? has been characterized as (i) the 
 Word, (2) the instrument of creation, (3) eternally 
 begotten, (4) the eldest or first-born Son of God, (5) 
 the "man of God," (6) the "heavenly man,*' (7) the 
 "second God," (8) the Mediator, (9) the Intercessor, 
 (10) the High Priest. All these ways of characterizing 
 the \6yo? find their parallel in the New Testament. 
 To them we may add (11) the Logos as the manna, 
 the bread that came down from heaven, (12) the 
 living stream, (13) the sword that turned every way, 
 or the " cutter " (ro/xey?) — conceived as at once the 
 divider of the genus into its species and of the 
 sacrifice into its parts, (14) the cloud at the Red Sea, 
 that divided the Egyptians and Israelites, (15) the 
 rock in the wilderness ; all of which appear in another 
 way in the New Testament. 
 
 It may be asked whether Philo conceived the 
 Ao-yoy as a person. That he personifies it is implied 
 in his calling it the Son of God, the man of God, 
 the heavenly man, the second God, the Mediator, the 
 High Priest; but it is one thing to represent the 
 \oyo^ under these figures, and another to maintain 
 
228 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 that it is a person. The answer seems to be that 
 the Logos is never conceived by Philo as a 
 distinct person, but always as the Thought of God, 
 constituting the divine Mind, which is expressed in 
 the rational order of the visible universe. It is true 
 that Philo finds in the angelic or divine appearances 
 mentioned in scripture a reference to the Xoyog^ but 
 he invariably explains these as allegorical modes of 
 expressing the nature of the divine reason. We 
 must, however, admit, I think, that Philo also accepted 
 these divine appearances as actual embodiments of 
 the \6yo9, as when he speaks of it as the guide to the 
 Patriarchs, the angel who appeared to Hagar, the 
 avenging angel who destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, 
 the God who appeared to Jacob, the divine form who 
 changed the name of Jacob to Israel, the angel of 
 the Lord in the burning bush, the angel who appeared 
 to Balaam, the guide of the Israelites in the wilderness. 
 If it seems strange that Philo should accept the 
 accounts of these divine appearances literally, while 
 yet he found in them a mystical signification, we 
 must remember that his whole mode of thought is 
 an illogical combination of traditional Judaism with 
 Greek conceptions. It is no more surprising that 
 Philo should have accepted with implicit faith the 
 Jewish belief in angels and divine appearances, while 
 holding a philosophical theory inconsistent with that 
 belief, than that he should have held tenaciously by 
 the Jewish ritual, while yet he found in every feature of 
 it an allegory of the divine nature in its relation to man. 
 Besides the parallels with the New Testament 
 already mentioned, there are one or two very striking 
 resemblances in his treatment of the kindred notion 
 of the law. " In Gen. xxvi. 5 we are told that 
 ' Abraham kept all the law of God.' Now, the Law 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 229 
 
 (J/0/X09) is nothing but the divine Word (Xoyog), which 
 commands what ought to be done, and forbids what 
 ought not to be done, as scripture bears witness 
 when it is said, 'he received the Law (yofios) from 
 His words' (cetto twi/ \6ywv: Deut. xxxiii. 4). If 
 then the Word (Xoyog) of God is the Law (vojuios) 
 of God, and the righteous man keeps the Law, he 
 also entirely keeps the Word ; so that, as scripture 
 says, the actions of the wise man are the words of 
 God" (I. 456). 
 
 We have in this passage a curious interblending of 
 the traditional faith in the Torah, which is characteristic 
 of the Palestinian Schools, and the Greek conception 
 of law as the order and harmony of the universe. 
 The Law is the Word of God, because it is directly 
 inspired by God, but it is also the Word, because it 
 is an expression of the rational system which is 
 embodied in the visible cosmos. Thus the Law as 
 contained in the Mosaic writings is the word of God, 
 containing the commands and prohibitions binding 
 upon men, but these commands and prohibitions are 
 an expression of the Word as the law of things, and 
 more particularly of the moral law. In this way the 
 Mosaic law, the Stoical law of nature, and the 
 Aristotelian conception of reason are brought into a 
 sort of harmony. 
 
 Closely connected with this identification of the 
 Word and the Law, is Philo's doctrine that in obedience 
 to the Law is freedom, while subjection to passion is 
 slavery. " Men who are under the dominion of anger 
 or desire or any other passion, or of intentional 
 wickedness, are complete slaves, while those who love 
 the Law are free. For the Law is unerring, right 
 reason (6 opdog \6y09) : it is not made by this or 
 that man ; it is no transitory law of mortals, written 
 
230 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 on parchments, or engraved on columns, the lifeless 
 on the lifeless, but an eternal law stamped by the 
 immortal nature on the immortal mind" (II. 452). 
 We can hardly fail to see here the beginning of 
 that wide conception of law, which is found in the 
 Pauline epistles : a law written on the " fleshy tables 
 of the heart," such as those had who, " not having 
 the law, were a law unto themselves." Thus Philo, 
 while holding by the letter of the Mosaic law, is 
 under the domination of a higher conception of law, as 
 having its seat in the conscience of the spiritual man. 
 
 But perhaps the most striking parallel to St. Paul 
 is found in the conception of the \6yo^ as the con- 
 dition of moral guilt, reminding us of St. Paul's 
 saying, " the law entered in that sin might abound." 
 Hence the X6yo9 is called the eXe-y^o?, the convincer 
 of guilt. " The eXe'y^oy, which dwells in and is 
 inseparable from each soul, refusing to accept what 
 is wrong, always preserves its nature as a hater of 
 evil and lover of virtue, being itself at once accuser 
 and judge" (II. 195). Here the conception of the 
 Mosaic law has fallen into the background, and the 
 reason or conscience is the convincer of sin, just 
 because man contains within himself, or is conscious 
 of, the divine X6yo9. 
 
 Philo holds that the soul existed prior to its union 
 with the body and will survive the decay of the 
 latter. " Every man in his reason is connected with 
 the divine Xoyosj being an ectype (eKfxayeiov) or 
 fragment {airoa-iraa-fxa) or spark {airavyarr^a) of that 
 blessed nature, while in the structure of his body he 
 is connected with the rest of the world" (I. 3S)- 
 Hence the wise man — Abraham, Jacob, Moses — 
 confesses that while on earth he is a stranger in the 
 Egypt of sense. 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 231 
 
 This conception of the soul as a stranger dwelling 
 in an alien world naturally leads to the idea that the 
 body is in some sense the source of evil. " A thousand 
 things escape from and elude the human mind, because 
 it is entangled in so great a crowd of impressions, 
 which seduce and deceive it by false opinions. Thus 
 the soul may be said to be buried in a mortal body, 
 which may be called its tomb" (II. 367). "It is 
 possible for the divine spirit to dwell in the soul, 
 but not to take up its permanent abode there. And 
 why should we wonder at this ? For there is nothing 
 in this world the possession of which is stable and 
 lasting, but mortal affairs are continually wavering in 
 the balance, now inclining to one side and then 
 to the other, and liable to continual alternations. And 
 the greatest cause of our ignorance is the flesh (j^ap^) 
 and our connection with the flesh. With this agrees 
 the saying of Moses : Because ' they are flesh, the 
 divine spirit ' is not able to abide in them. And 
 indeed marriage and the rearing of children, provision 
 for the necessary wants, and meanness, and avarice, 
 and occupation are apt to wither wisdom, ere it come 
 into bloom. Nor does anything so impede the growth 
 of the soul as the fleshly nature (a-apKwv (pva-ii). This 
 is the first and main foundation of ignorance and 
 want of understanding, and upon it each of the things 
 spoken of is built" (I. 266). Hence Philo speaks of 
 the life of the wicked as " working and pursuing what 
 is dear to the flesh " (ra (plXa th o-apKi epya^ecrdai 
 Koi /jLeOoSeveiv). " There is an original sin in the flesh, 
 and in man as a created being, against which the 
 divine spirit is ever striving. There is a strife in the 
 camp, says Moses ; that is, the spirit within us cries 
 out. Not that the bodily substance of the flesh is 
 to be regarded as the source of evil, but the flesh 
 
232 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 comprehends in itself the ideal evil will, ever seeking 
 to satisfy the lusts of the flesh." 
 
 " Hence Philo is led to make a new division of the 
 soul into two parts : the one in alliance with the flesh, 
 the other separate from it. There are two kinds of 
 men, he says — those who live in the flesh, and those 
 who live in the Spirit. And there is an outer soul, 
 ■vp-u^^ (xapKiKri, the essence of which is blood, correspond- 
 ing to the first of these two classes ; and an inner soul, 
 ^v)(ri XojiKYi^ which answers to the latter, into which 
 God puts his Spirit. That is the true soul ; the soul 
 of souls, as it were — the apple of the eye (H. 241, 356). 
 In like manner he seems disposed to confine immortality 
 to the souls of the good." ^ 
 
 The end of human life is to become like God, and 
 virtue is the means to this end. Man is by nature 
 corrupt, and therefore lies under the condemnation of 
 God ; but God gives men grace by which they are 
 enabled to serve Him, and without this grace even 
 virtue is of no avail. By the power of the \6yog God 
 will raise the just man, and bring him near to Himself 
 in heaven. There are three ways to the higher life — 
 ao-Ac?ycri9, SiSa-)(i] and (pvcrt^. Those who follow the first 
 way are engaged in a perpetual strife and struggle ; 
 the second is that of instruction, which Philo finds in 
 the ordinary elements of Greek education — grammar, 
 music, geometry, rhetoric and dialectic. These two 
 ways are described, in terms suggestive of St. Paul, 
 as respectively " milk for babes " and " strong meat." 
 He who follows the highest way— that of " nature " 
 (ipva-i^) — experiences peace and the joy of resignation, 
 and being pure in heart he enjoys the beatific vision of 
 God, though he sees Him only as through a glass 
 (coa-Trep Sia KUTOTrrpov). Philo also uses such terms 
 
 1 Jowett's Epistles of St. Paul, 3rd ed., i. 413. 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 233 
 
 as " hungering and thirsting after the good and noble," 
 '' hungering after the noble life," " being a slave of 
 God." He also speaks of the " true riches " (aXriOiuog 
 TrXovTog) ; and says that there be " few who find " 
 the true way of life (I. 488, 165; H. 198, 425). 
 
 Besides the four virtues of Plato and the Stoics, 
 Philo mentions the three graces of hope, repentance 
 and righteousness ; and he has also a second triad of 
 faith, hope and love, which are the fairest graces of the 
 pious soul, the greatest being love. But though Philo 
 warns his readers against lip-service and superstition, 
 calling faith " the most beautiful and blameless sacrifice," 
 he never surrenders his belief in the perpetual obligation 
 of the Jewish ceremonial law, and he accepts the popular 
 belief in ransom and sacrifice. 
 
 The parallels between Philo and the New Testament 
 which have just been cited are too striking to be acci- 
 dental. Similar parallels could easily be multiplied. 
 As Siegfried has shown in his FMlo von Alexandria^ 
 there are striking resemblances between Philo and 
 many of the New Testament writers, both in method 
 and in matter. Time forbids us to follow these out 
 in detail, but a summary of the results of such a com- 
 parison may be given. 
 
 In his epistles St. Paul employs some of the canons 
 of interpretation accepted by Philo. One of these 
 canons was, that scripture is not to be taken in a 
 literal sense, when it expresses something that is 
 unworthy of the perfection of God's nature. Applying 
 this principle to Exod. xxii. 26-27,^ Philo says that by 
 the " raiment " there referred to is to be understood the 
 
 ■^'*If thou at all take thy neighbour's raiment to pledge, thou shalt 
 deliver it to him by that the sun goeth down : For that is his covering only, 
 it is his raiment for his skin : wherein shall he sleep ? and it shall come to 
 pass, when he crieth unto Me, that I will hear ; for I am gracious." 
 
234 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 Xoyo^ as the protector and guardian of man. Unless we 
 so interpret the command, he argues, we suppose Moses 
 to be laying down a law about a very trivial matter. 
 Does the Creator and ruler of the universe concern 
 himself about such trifles ? The same sort of objection 
 and the same kind of interpretation is applied by 
 St. Paul in explanation of Deut. xxv. 4 : " Thou shalt 
 not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the corn." 
 This cannot mean, argues the Apostle, that God is 
 careful of the ox, and hence we must understand it 
 as a command to the Christian churches to support 
 their teachers. 
 
 Again, in the allegorical method special significance 
 was attached to the use of the singular number. In 
 Gen. xvii. 16, a promise is made to Abraham that he 
 should have a son by Sarah. Why is only one child 
 promised? To indicate the truth, answers Philo, that 
 " the good " is not in number, but in power. St. Paul 
 employs similar reasoning in Gal. iii. 16. In Gen. xxii. 
 18, Abraham is told : " In thy seed {cnrepfxa) shall all 
 the nations of the earth be blessed." The Apostle's 
 comment is : " He saith not, And to seeds, as of 
 many ; but as of one, And to thy seed, which is 
 Christ." 
 
 So, speaking of the " rock " that followed the Israel- 
 ites in the wilderness, Philo says : " That * rock,* 
 employing elsewhere a name signifying the same 
 thing, he calls 'manna,' the eldest A0709 of all 
 things." Similarly, St. Paul in i Cor. x. 4 : " They 
 drank of that spiritual Rock that followed them ; and 
 that Rock was Christ." As Philo interprets the 
 "raiment," the "rock" and the "manna" as metaphors 
 for the \6yo<s, so St. Paul explains the " seed " and the 
 " rock " to be Christ. There is therefore no doubt that 
 the Apostle employs the same method as Philo. 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 235 
 
 It is generally admitted that the author of the 
 Epistle to the Hebrews has come under the influence 
 of Alexandrian culture, and therefore, as we should 
 expect, he freely employs the allegorical method. 
 Thus, he sets aside the literal meaning when it con- 
 tains something contradictory ; like Philo he draws an 
 inference from the silence of scripture ; and he bases 
 conclusions upon the meaning of a word, or upon 
 its etymological signification. 
 
 Besides this agreement in method, there are many 
 similarities between Philo and New Testament writers 
 in metaphors, general modes of expression and ideas. 
 Are we, then, to conclude that the New Testament 
 writers have borrowed from Philo ? That would be a 
 very rash inference. The truth rather is, that both 
 were under the influence of widely diffused modes 
 of thought and expression. As to the exegetical 
 canons common to both, we have to remember that 
 these were not peculiar to Alexandrian writers. Ortho- 
 dox Jewish writers to a certain extent practised the 
 same method of interpretation, and, in the case of 
 St. Paul, this is sufficient to explain his use of that 
 method. We have further to remember that " in the 
 Pharisaic theology there are already Hellenic elements. 
 Orthodox Judaism could not escape from the influences 
 which arose from the victory of the Greeks over the 
 East. The peoples who inhabited the eastern shores 
 of the Mediterranean had a common history from the 
 fourth century B.C., and acquired similar convictions." ^ 
 When, therefore, Judaism and Hellenism are contrasted, 
 we have to remember that Judaism already to a certain 
 extent lives in the atmosphere of Greek modes of 
 thought and expression. " There is not," as Harnack 
 says, *' a single New Testament writing, which does not 
 
 ^ Hamack's Dopnengeschichte^ i. 55, n. 
 
;Bq; uib;j9d sj ;t — diqsjoq^nB 9q:j ;suibSb 9DU9piA9 
 sATsnpuoD ou SI 9J9i{:i ;BlI:^ uMoi[s SHq uisppuD 
 ujgpoui puB — siq jo g^dpsip b Xq jo 'uqof gpsody 
 9q; A<\ u9;;aM sbm pdsog q:^jnoj 9q; 49q;9q^ •J9;uav 
 j9q;o XuB ui xxzv^ iB^uauinpunj 9Joiii si ujsiuoBb^ub gq; 
 uiiq uj puB \ pdsor) q;jno^ 9q; jo j9;um gq:^ — ss9jdx9 
 sSupuAi 9Soq; qDiqAV SB9pi uiBiu 9q; q;iAV ;sb9J ;b jo 
 *o]Tq(j JO sSupuM 9q; q;;M p9;uiBnbDE Xiuib;j9d sbm oqM 
 J9;UM ;u91Ub;s9X a^^N ^"*^ ^1"^ sj 9J9qx "PHOAv gq; 
 UT J9Mod AV9U B X^iuHi^suq^ 9pBtu qoiqAV SUOpd9DUOD 
 9q:j JO g^oqAv gq; o:» spu9:jx9 ;i ;nq *qBTSS9j\[ 9q; sb sns9f 
 JO sj9;uM UBT;suq3 9q; Xq 9DUB;d90DB 9q; o; Xpj9ui 
 9np ;ou SI uoipupsip 9qx '^ugjg^ip X|tB;u9uiBpunj 
 SI 9JII JO AV9TA puB :juids 9pqAV 9q; — 9;iug9pux JOU 
 AV9J J9q;pu 9JB 9S9q:j puB — sj9;ijAV ;u9Ujb:js9J^ av9^ sq; 
 pUB luiq u99M;9q 9jb 9J9q:^ S9DUBiqui9S9J "[Bpyjgdns j9A9 
 -;BqAV ';Bq; uib;j9d 9q 9Joj9J9q; Xbui syw 'Xqdosoiiqd 
 5|99j-£) Xq . p9uiiiiJ949p 9JB ^ijqSnoq; JO 9poui 9|oqM stq 
 
 pUB '0|Tq(J JO SB9pi UIBUI 9q; *U99S 9ABq 9M SB 'aVO^ 
 
 X »"s;9qdoj J 9q; 
 puB siiJ|BS(j 9q; ujojj X|tBp9ds9 puB ';u9uib;s9j;^ pio 
 9q; uiojj iu9q; o; 9uioo 9aoiii puB 9Atj X9q:i qoiqM ui 
 sB9pi snoiSipj 9q; ^nq • * * 'gan^^nD >199jj3 Xq p9;B9JD 
 9j9qdsoiu;B |Bn;tJids gq; 9q;B9jq :^U91iib;s9jl M9^ gq:^ jo 
 sj9;iJM 9qjL -sSupuAV ;u9uib:js9J^ av9^ |Bdpuud 9q:^ jo 
 JOU pdsof) 9q; jo uopisoddns9jd gq; lujoj J9q;pu sBgpi 
 5J99JQ o'lfpdfs ;Bq4 *;u9piAg SB ;snf si '\\ *puBq jgq;o gq; 
 uo *;ng '9DU9n0UT uSpjoj Xub Xq pg^Dg^B Xbm ou ui si 
 qoiqM uisTBpnf jo pnpojd gAisnpxg ub sb :ji pjBSgj 9m 
 SB %v.o\ OS *giqiSttp;uiun X[|BOTJo;siq si jps^i pdsog gq; 
 ;Bq; 'Xbs ugAg Xbui g^ -^uguiB^sgjL PIO ^H^ J° "o?^ 
 -BisuBj; jfggjr) gq; jo gsn gq; Xq uMoqs si siq; ^pggpuj 
 '4SB3 gqa JO SuTZTugipfj gq; uiojj pg;|nsgj -qoiqM gjni^pD 
 IBjgugS puB ;qSnoq; jo gpoui gq; jo gougnyui gq; XBj;gq 
 
 NOionsH ^o sisva ^VOIHJOSOTIHJ 9^^ 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 237 
 
 it was a conscious rejection of the Philonic con- 
 ception of the \6yo^. But, in other writings, as e,g. 
 the epistles of St. Paul and St, James and the 
 epistle to the Hebrews, the antagonism is none the 
 less marked because it is less conscious. The really 
 important result of a comparison of Philo and the New 
 Testament is, therefore, that it enables us to see more 
 clearly the unique character of Christianity, and to 
 separate from it the accidents of its expression, whether 
 these were due to modes of thought predominantly 
 Jewish or predominantly Greek. The spirit of Chris- 
 tianity is certainly not dependent upon the earthen 
 vessel in which it was contained. On the other hand, 
 it would be a grave mistake to assume that we can 
 remove from Christianity all the elements which may 
 be called theological, and narrow it down to simple 
 faith in the Lord Jesus. Simple faith in the Lord 
 Jesus is no doubt all that is essential to individual 
 salvation ; but it is not all that is essential to the 
 regeneration of the world. The teaching of our Lord 
 contained implicitly a complete system of theology ; 
 and when St. Paul and the New Testament writers 
 sought to set forth this system explicitly, they were 
 only seeking to supply a fundamental need of the 
 human spirit. The question rather is, whether the 
 first form in which the system of ideas which the Master 
 expressed in all their freshness and living force was not 
 unduly narrowed by the want of categories adequate to 
 express it. There is, indeed, no opposition between the 
 New Testament writers and the Master, but there is 
 undoubtedly a difference in the mode of statement; and 
 it is a very narrow and indefensible view which would 
 insist that we are bound by the form of the disciples 
 and may neglect the larger truth of the Master. Let us, 
 then, begin by a comparison of St. Paul and Philo. 
 
238 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 " The centre of all St. Paul's life and thought," as 
 Harnack says, " was his absolute faith that Christ had 
 revealed himself to him, that the Gospel was the 
 revelation of the crucified and risen Christ, and that 
 God had called him to proclaim this Gospel to the 
 world. Those three ideas were in the consciousness of 
 the Apostle absolutely inseparable from one another. 
 If Christ had not revealed himself to him, there was 
 no foundation for his faith ; if the Gospel was not the 
 revelation of the crucified and risen Christ, there was no 
 new revelation ; and if he had not himself become the 
 medium of this new revelation he had no call to pro- 
 claim the Gospel to others. In this new consciousness 
 consisted his conversion, and his whole life was deter- 
 mined by it. In this faith he was conscious of having 
 undergone a complete revolution in his whole being. 
 His attitude towards others was therefore completely 
 changed. He was no longer a Jew, but a ' new man in 
 Christ Jesus,' and therefore all men, Jews and Gentiles 
 alike, were related to one another and to God in an 
 identical way. That being so, his mission was to lead 
 the Jew beyond the limits of Judaism, and to bring the 
 Gentile to a consciousness of his true relation to God 
 and his fellow-men. The crucified and risen Christ was 
 not only the central principle of his theology, but the 
 ruling principle in his hfe and thought. The Christ 
 was not the man, Jesus of Nazareth, who had been 
 exalted by God to a position beyond that of ordinary 
 humanity, but the mighty personal spiritual being, who 
 had humiliated Himself for a time, and had destroyed 
 the world of the Law, of sin and of death, and who 
 as spirit worked in the souls of believers. Hence for 
 him theology was the doctrine of the liberating power 
 of the spirit of Christ, operative in all the concrete 
 relations of human life and of human need. The Christ 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 239 
 
 who has overcome the law, sin and death, lives as 
 spirit and through His spirit in believers, who therefore 
 do not know Him according to the flesh. He is a 
 creative power of life for those who from faith in His 
 saving death on the cross allow Him to work in their 
 souls, i.e. to be justified. Life in the spirit, which is 
 the result of union with Christ, will at last reveal 
 itself also in the body, not in the flesh. Looking back 
 at the past, St. Paul regarded theology as the doctrine 
 of the abolition of the Law. He therefore views the 
 old in the light of the Gospel, maintaining that it has 
 been done away by Christ. Hence the proofs from 
 scripture are merely introduced in support of his inner 
 convictions. These revolve around the idea, that the 
 true meaning of the Law, of sin and of death is only 
 revealed in their abolition. By the Law the Law is 
 destroyed, in sinful flesh sin is overcome, through death 
 death is conquered. 
 
 " The historical view of St. Paul is set forth in the 
 relation of Christ to Adam and Abraham, and to the 
 Law of Moses ; it looks forward to the time, when 
 God shall be all in all, after Christ has * put all things 
 under his feet ' ; and to a time when the prophecies 
 given to the Jewish people shall be fulfilled in the 
 salvation of all Israel. The doctrine of Christ in St. 
 Paul starts from the confession of the primitive church, 
 that Christ as a heavenly being and as Lord of the 
 living and the dead is with the Father. His theology 
 does not rest upon the historical Christ, but upon the 
 pre-existent Christ, the ' man from heaven,' who in 
 self-denying love made Himself flesh, in order to destroy 
 the power of nature and death ; but he refers to the 
 works and the life of the historical Christ as the pattern 
 for all men of life in the spirit. 
 
 "In controverting Christian opponents^ who sought to 
 
240 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 combine the gospel of the crucified Christ with the belief 
 in * righteousness by works/ St. Paul makes use of argu- 
 ments and even of ideas borrowed from the Pharisaic 
 theology; and he employs the exegetical method practised 
 by Pharisaic theologians, as well as by Alexandrian 
 writers. But the dialectic in regard to the law, cir- 
 cumcision and sacrifice does not form the central 
 source of his inspiration, but is merely the outer body 
 of his doctrine. St Paul is the highest product of 
 the Jewish spirit as transformed by the creative power 
 of the spirit of Christ Pharisaism had fulfilled its 
 mission in producing a man of this type, and was 
 henceforth dead. In a measure St Paul shares the 
 Hellenic spirit, but this spirit he imbibed, not from the 
 direct influence of Hellenic writers, but from his Phari- 
 saic training. In his mission to the Gentiles he had 
 the advantage of an intimate acquaintance with the 
 Greek translation of the Old Testament, considerable 
 skill in handling the Greek tongue, and an insight into 
 the spiritual life of the Greeks. His great power, how- 
 ever, lay in his gospel of the spiritual Christ This 
 gospel he could express in modes of thought compre- 
 hensible by the Greek mind. In his Apologetics he 
 even turns to his purposes the philosophical doctrines 
 of the Greeks, though it cannot be shown that he had 
 a direct acquaintance with Greek literature and philo- 
 sophy. Thus he prepares the way for the diffusion 
 of the Gospel in the Greek and Roman world. But 
 this in no way affects his central doctrine of salvation, 
 which was neither Jewish nor Gentile, but universal." ^ 
 
 Now, when we consider that the centre of all St 
 Paul's ideas is faith in the crucified and risen Christ, 
 we see at once that his whole conception of life differs 
 from that of Philo. Both, indeed, speak of the 
 
 ^Harnack's Dogmengesckichte, i. 89-91. 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 241 
 
 ^* heavenly man," but their point of view is diametri- 
 cally opposite. The " heavenly man " of Philo is not 
 a person, but an abstract archetype: it is the divine 
 pattern in the divine mind after which individual men 
 are formed. But this archetype could never possibly 
 be realised in any individual man. St Paul, on the 
 other hand, finds in the crucified and risen Christ, the 
 manifestation of the Son of God. Whereas Philo's 
 ^* Son of God " is merely the divine mind in operation, 
 St. Paul finds in Christ the true Son of God, who 
 humbled himself by appearing in the flesh, and who 
 thereby revealed the innermost nature of God. Whereas 
 in Philo God remains in His own nature absolutely 
 inscrutable, St. Paul sees in the crucified and risen 
 Christ the manifestation of the infinite love of God. 
 This is no mere superficial distinction : it is the funda- 
 mental note of Christianity, which distinguishes it from 
 all other religions. And as St. Paul's conception of 
 the Son of God differs toto coelo from Philo's, so his 
 conception of salvation is fundamentally different. 
 The salvation of man for Philo was conceived to lie 
 in the illumination of the mind by a philosophical 
 conception of God, and obedience to the law of reason. 
 Thus, it was the narrow way open only to the cultured 
 few. St. Paul's way of salvation was open to all. 
 No distinction of Jew or Gentile, cultured or uncul- 
 tured, free man or slave, could separate a man from 
 union with God through the indwelling of the Spirit 
 of Christ in him. Philo no doubt liberated himself 
 from the prepossession that only the Jew was capable 
 of salvation, but he only got rid of this national limit 
 to fall into the Greek idea of a limit in human nature 
 arising from an intellectual defect. And further, while 
 Philo conceives of all men as capable of goodness, 
 he also regards the Law of Moses as binding upon 
 
 Q 
 
242 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 all men. Thus he is limited in two ways : on the one 
 hand, the man of culture alone is capable of salvation^ 
 and, on the other hand, the Jewish ceremonial law is 
 not temporary, but eternal. St. Paul, on the other 
 hand, bases his doctrine upon a faith of which all men 
 are capable, and sweeps away the whole ceremonial 
 law, which he regards as merely temporary. The 
 universalism of Philo was no true universalism ; that of 
 Paul was based upon the fundamental sinfulness of all 
 men, and the possibility of salvation through faith in 
 the love of God. We can thus understand how Philo's 
 doctrine had no influence beyond the schools, while 
 Christianity turned the world upside down. The more 
 we reflect upon the doctrine of Philo, the more clearly 
 we see that it was impotent to regenerate the race. 
 And even as an abstract creed, it was merely a com- 
 bination of discrepant ideas. There is, in his theory, 
 no real manifestation of God. The inscrutable Being, 
 who cannot be in any way defined, is little better than 
 the deification of Nothing. His \6yo9i viewed on its 
 higher side, is but the hypostatizing of abstract ideas ; 
 and, on its lower side, it does not take us beyond 
 the idea of an abstract law which operates beyond, 
 but not in, the spirit of man. Thus, from either point 
 of view, it has no more potency than an abstract 
 law of nature. St. Paul, on the other hand, has 
 grasped the principle of the self-manifestation of God, 
 and the possibility of the regenerated man living in 
 the Spirit of the Son of God. Thus, in his doctrine, we 
 are dealing with the actual manifestation of God, and 
 with the living principle operative in the souls of men. 
 
 When we compare Philo with the writer of the 
 Fourth Gospel we find the same superficial resemblance, 
 and the same fundamental opposition. 
 
 (i) We have seen how Philo affirms the absolute 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 243 
 
 incomprehensibility of God. " Though God is by- 
 nature visible, no man has seen Him." This lan- 
 guage naturally suggests the similar statement in the 
 Fourth Gospel (i. 18), *' No man hath seen God at any 
 time." By the false method of assuming that simi- 
 larity of statement is a proof of borrowing, it may 
 be argued that St. John was indebted to Philo for 
 his conception of the invisibility of God. Now, not 
 to mention that Philo's conception of the incompre- 
 hensibility and invisibility of God had taken a firm 
 hold both of Palestinian and Alexandrian writers 
 before Philo, it is easy to see that, in words which 
 are almost identical, the two writers are expressing 
 a totally different idea. In the passage where Philo 
 speaks of the invisibility of God, he goes on to say 
 that " the cause lies in the weakness of the creature," 
 i,e. in the " imbecility of the human intellect," to use 
 the phraseology of Sir William Hamilton. It is thus 
 a limit in the human intelligence which, in Philo's 
 view, prevents us from comprehending the nature of 
 God ; and he adds that " we must become God — 
 which is impossible — before we can comprehend God." 
 But no such doctrine is suggested by the Gospel writer. 
 After saying that " no man hath seen God at any 
 time," he adds : " the only-begotten Son, which is in 
 the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him." 
 What the writer has in his mind is that, prior to the 
 revelation of God by Jesus Christ, the Father was in 
 His full nature unknown to man, but is now revealed 
 as He truly is. That this is his meaning is evident 
 from the words immediately preceding : " For the Law 
 was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by 
 Jesus Christ." The contrast is therefore between the 
 Law and the Gospel ; and the fundamental thought 
 is, that God, whose true nature had been hidden, is 
 
244 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 now revealed as a God of love. No doubt the Gospel 
 writer holds by the thought of the spirituality of God, 
 but in his view God is not hidden but revealed. 
 There is, in truth, nothing in the New Testament to 
 cou ntenance the doctrine of the absolute incompre- 
 hensibility of God, and theologians who interpret such 
 passages in an agnostic sense do violence to its whole 
 spirit. " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall 
 see God," is the utterance of the living Christian 
 consciousness, not a dogmatic proposition; but it is 
 incompatible with any theology which sets up an 
 impassable barrier between God and man. If theology 
 is to remain Christian, it must discard this fiction of an 
 absolutely incomprehensible God by providing a com- 
 pletely reasoned basis for the Christian consciousness of 
 a self-manifesting God. 
 
 Fhilo then, as we see, so far from anticipating the 
 Christian idea of God, merely expresses the conception 
 current in his day among his countrymen. And it is 
 significant that, in defending his preconception of the 
 inscrutability of God, he employs the dualistic modes 
 of thought which he had learned from his Greek 
 teachers. The false abstraction of an incomprehensible 
 God on the one side, has as its complement the equally 
 false abstraction of formless matter on the other side ; 
 so that God is not the creative source of all things, 
 but merely the Architect who fashions the world. 
 Thus the very writer who imagines that he exalts God 
 by declaring Him to be incomprehensible, falls back 
 upon the analogy of a human artist when he attempts 
 to explain the creation of the world. This defect 
 still permeates much of our current speculation. It 
 is still supposed that God in respect of His relation 
 to the world may be conceived as a kind of external 
 artificer ; a view which rests upon the blasphemous 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 245 
 
 notion of the independent existence of the material 
 world, 
 
 (2) The Xoyop is conceived by Philo as, on the one 
 hand, the Thought of God, and, on the other, the 
 expression of this Thought in the visible universe ; 
 and this Word is represented as the "instrument" by 
 which the cosmos is formed. When we turn to the 
 Fourth Gospel we read : " In the beginning was the 
 \6y09, and the \6y09 was with God, and the \6yo^ 
 was God. The same was in the beginning with God. 
 All things were by Him (St avTov), and without Him 
 was not anything made thac hath been made." The 
 two modes of statement have undoubtedly the strongest 
 resemblance. But there are fundamental differences. 
 According to Philo the \6yo^ is not identical with 
 God, but is a product of His self-activity. Thus the 
 \6yo^ is not a complete counterpart of the infinite 
 energy of God ; nor, strictly speaking, is it an expres- 
 sion of what God in His inner nature is, but only an 
 effect, distinct and separate from Him. Philo, in short, 
 applies the conception of external causation to express 
 the relation between God and the \6y09. On the 
 basis of his dualism, the Xoyog cannot be identical 
 with God, because God is absolutely self-contained and 
 therefore cannot be expressed. Now, St. John gives 
 us a very different view. Holding that God is essen- 
 tially self- manifesting, he employs the current term 
 Xoyo^ to express this idea. The \6yog is said to be 
 at once " with God " and to " be God." Thus the 
 absolute identity of God and the X6yo9 is affirmed, 
 while yet the Xoyos is distinguished from God. This 
 can only mean that God manifests himself as He is in 
 the \6yo%. It is, then, in this sense that he speaks 
 of the \6yo^ or Word, There can be no doubt that 
 he makes use of the current Hellenistic metaphor 
 
246 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 implied in the double meaning of the term Xoyog^ 
 but he adapts it to the expression of the new concep- 
 tion of God as self-manifesting. Thus his conception 
 of the \6yo9 has an entirely different meaning from 
 that of Philo. God's inner nature is fully manifested 
 in the XoyoSy who is not the product of God, but 
 is God Himself. The mechanical conception of God 
 as a cause distinct from the Xoyog is set aside, and 
 for it is substituted the conception of God as the 
 eternal self-manifesting God, or, in a word, of God 
 as Spirit. 
 
 Philo holds that the Xoyog was the " instrument " 
 by which the visible world was created ; and he ex- 
 pressly compares the world to a vast temple or city, 
 explaining that the \6yos was the instrument by which 
 the four elements and their various compounds have 
 been formed. St. John also speaks of the Xoyo^ as 
 that through which the world has been made, and so 
 far he seems to be expressing the same idea as Philo. 
 But there is this important difference : that as the 
 X6yo9 is identical with God, it is God as the Xoyog 
 who has " made the world." Further, the world is 
 not " made " in the sense of being " formed " out of a 
 " matter " already existing, but is brought into being 
 absolutely. 
 
 (3) In Philo, the X6yo9 conceived as the Thought of 
 God is distinct from the Xoyos as the Word. The 
 latter is the order and harmony of creation and pro- 
 vidence. There is no such distinction in St. John. 
 For him the Word is the expression of God Himself, 
 arfd it is to the direct agency of God as the Xoyo^ 
 that all created things owe their existence. Thus, 
 from whatever point of view we compare them, we 
 find that Philo and St. John, while using the same 
 term, give to it an entirely different meaning. Nor 
 
PHILO AND THE NEW TESTAMENT 247 
 
 tnust we forget that the metaphor of the Word is 
 only a metaphor, and that the fundamental idea 
 which it is employed to express is that God has 
 revealed Himself as He is in the knowable universe, 
 or rather in His Son. 
 
LECTURE TENTH 
 
 GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 
 
 In my last lecture I endeavoured to show that the 
 resemblances between the New Testament writers and 
 Philo are no proof of direct obligation on the part 
 of the latter, and that, when we go beneath the surface, 
 we find in each a totally different conception of life. 
 The first point of resemblance is in the doctrine of the 
 Logos. In ordinary usage the term Xoyog means 
 either (a) thought, or (d) speech. Philo makes use of 
 this double meaning to explain the relation between 
 the intelligible and the sensible world. Thought and 
 speech in man are related to each other as the Divine 
 Thought to its Expression in the visible universe. 
 Thus the \6y09 is the Word of God, z,e. the order 
 impressed upon the sensible world. Therefore man, in 
 grasping by his intelligence the order exhibited in the 
 visible universe, may attain to truths or to a symbolical 
 apprehension of the Divine Thought. The Xoyo^ is 
 the " instrument " of creation, while God is its " cause." 
 Hence the visible world is represented as a vast temple 
 or city, the form of which is impressed upon it by the 
 ^070?, just as the architect embodies his thought in his 
 work. The Xoyo^ is therefore intermediate between 
 God and man ; it is " neither unbegotten as God, nor 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 249 
 
 begotten as man," but is eternally begotten. As the 
 expressed Thought or Word of God, it is called the 
 " eldest " or " first-born Son of God." It is the " bond " 
 of all things, i.e. the principle which constitutes the 
 world an ordered system. The Ao'yo? or Word 
 is also the law which determines the course of 
 human life. Hence the \6yof5 is called the " man 
 of God " or the " heavenly man," who is distinguished 
 from Adam, the " earthly man." Philo also speaks of 
 the Xofyo^s as the " second God/' because it is not God 
 as He is in Himself, but the product or " image " of 
 God. There are other ways in which the \6yo<s is 
 characterized, which are drawn from Jewish sources. 
 Thus the \6yo^ is a suppliant or intercessor (tKerr}?) to 
 God on behalf of man. It is natural, therefore, to 
 speak of it as the " high priest," who mediates between 
 God and man. To these striking parallels with the 
 New Testament may be added the Xoyog as (i) the 
 manna, the bread that came down from heaven, (2) 
 the living stream, (3) the sword that turned every way, 
 or the "divider," (4) the cloud at the Red Sea, (5) the 
 rock in the wilderness. Philo personifies the Xojo^^ but 
 he can hardly be said to conceive of it as a person. 
 No doubt he identifies it with the angelic or divine 
 appearances mentioned in scripture, but he interprets 
 these as symbols of the Divine Reason. In treating of 
 the kindred notion of the Law, Philo speaks in a way 
 that strongly reminds us of some of St. Paul's ideas. 
 The Law {yoixo^ is nothing but the Word (Koyo^i) ; so 
 that the righteous man who keeps the Law also keeps 
 the Word. Philo further tells us that to obey the Law 
 is freedom, while subjection to passion is slavery. The 
 Law he further characterizes as " an eternal law,, 
 stamped by the immortal nature on the immortal 
 mind," which reminds us of the Pauline conception 
 
2SO PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 of a law written on " the fleshy tables of the heart." 
 The most striking parallel, however, is in the con- 
 ception of the Xoyog as the eXeyyog, the convincer 
 of sin ; where the Mosaic law has fallen into the 
 background, and the reason or conscience is viewed 
 as the divine \6yog, in so far as it takes up its 
 abode in the soul of man. As to the nature of 
 man, we find that Philo holds the soul to be separate 
 and distinct from the body. This view is connected 
 with the doctrine of the X6yo9 by the idea that in 
 his reason man is an " ectype or fragment or spark 
 of that blessed nature, while in the structure of his 
 body he is connected with the rest of the world." 
 The soul being thus a stranger, dwelling in an alien 
 world, the body is the source of evil, though it is 
 not in itself evil. Hence Philo divides the soul into 
 two parts, one in alliance with the flesh, and the other 
 separate and independent. Corresponding to this 
 division there are two classes of men — those who live 
 in the flesh and those who live in the spirit. As 
 man is by nature corrupt, even a virtuous life is of 
 no avail, unless there is imparted to him the grace 
 by which he is enabled to serve God. There are three 
 ways to the higher life — practice of virtue, teaching 
 and nature. Those who follow the first way are 
 -engaged in a never-ending struggle, while those who 
 follow the path of knowledge attain to a higher life, 
 and, compared with the former, feed upon "strong 
 meat," not upon " milk fit for babes." But the highest 
 way of all is that of " nature " ; it is the way to peace, 
 the joy of resignation, and purity of heart, and those 
 who enter upon it at last "see God," though only 
 ** through a glass." It is also described in such terms 
 as "hungering and thirsting after the ideal God," 
 ■"* hungering after the noble life," " being the slave of 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 251 
 
 God " ; and Philo also calls it the " true riches/' adding 
 that there are but " few who find it." Like St. Paul, 
 Philo speaks of faith, hope and love as the fairest 
 graces of the soul, the greatest being love. But, in 
 strong contrast to the Apostle, he believes in the 
 perpetual obligation of the Jewish ceremonial law, 
 though he also speaks of faith as the " most beautiful 
 and blameless sacrifice." 
 
 We have now to consider the struggle which 
 Christianity had to undergo in its effort to express 
 Christian ideas in terms of reflective thought — a 
 struggle similar to that through which Philo passed 
 in his effort to preserve the higher elements of 
 Judaism, while incorporating in his system the results 
 of Greek speculation. 
 
 " There is a body of men," says Irenaeus, " who set 
 aside the truth, putting in its place fables and vain 
 genealogies, which, as the Apostle says, ' minister 
 questionings, rather than godly edifying, which is in 
 faith.* ^ By specious and crafty suggestions th ey 
 mislead and enslave the unwary. They wickedly 
 pervert the good words of scripture, which they handle 
 deceitfully. They destroy the faith of many, leading 
 them astray by the pretence of ' knowledge ' {yvoijcTLq) 
 from Him who has established and adorned the uni- 
 verse, claiming to reveal something higher and greater 
 than God, the Maker of heaven and earth and all that 
 is therein. Plausible in the allurements of rhetorical 
 art, whereby they draw the simple-minded into their 
 method of investigation, they drop the mask and ruin 
 their victims, whom they have reduced to a state of 
 incapacity to distinguish truth from lies by their 
 blasphemous and impious conclusions concerning the 
 Creator." ^ 
 
 ^ I Tim. i. 4. 2 jj-gjiaeus, Refutation of Heresy, Pref. § i. 
 
252 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 These words, with which Irenaeus opens his Refuta- 
 tion of Heresy^ indicate the main features of the Gnostic 
 sects as they existed in the second century. Their 
 theology was not set forth in a reasoned and connected 
 system, but was imbedded in a fantastic cosmogony ; 
 their exegesis was of that artificial character with which 
 our study of Fhilo has made us familiar ; they claimed 
 to be in possession of an esoteric doctrine or Gnosis, 
 revealed only to the initiated ; and between the 
 Supreme Being and the world they interposed a 
 number of spiritual Powers or Aeons, attributing the 
 creation of the visible universe to a subordinate agent, 
 the Demiurge. That a doctrine of this kind was 
 inconsistent with the fundamental ideas of Christian 
 theology, and in practice led either to an antinomian 
 license or to asceticism, is also true ; and therefore we 
 cannot but sympathize with the zeal of the Bishop of 
 Lyons, when he warns his flock against these " wolves 
 in sheep's clothing," as he does not hesitate to call 
 them. But. while it is true that Gnosticism was 
 fantastic in form, arbitrary in the interpretation of 
 scripture, full of intellectual arrogance and dualistic 
 in content, it was not, at least in its main representa- 
 tives, either so unchristian or so irrational as Irenaeus 
 alleges, nor can it be fairly stigmatised as a deliberate 
 and wicked perversion of the " truth once delivered to 
 the saints." When the Gnostics wrote there was no 
 fixed body of Christian doctrine of which the Church 
 was the custodian, and therefore no "heresy" in the 
 later sense of deviation from the Catholic faith. Even 
 in the age of Irenaeus the dogmas of the Church were 
 still in process of formation, and, judged by the standard 
 of the Nicene Creed, Irenaeus himself must be pro- 
 nounced heretical. The Church afterwards accepted 
 as orthodox those writers of the first and second 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 253 
 
 centuries who employed speculation as a means of 
 spiritualizing the Old Testament, without carrying their 
 speculation so far as to construct a complete system ; 
 while it branded as heretical those thinkers who, 
 employing the same method, aimed at completeness 
 and reached conclusions at variance with later Catholic 
 doctrine. Both classes of thinkers were under the 
 influence of Greek ideas and Greek modes of thought, 
 and both were trying to convert Christian faith into 
 a philosophy of religion. In attempting to estimate 
 the strength and weakness of Gnosticism we must 
 discard the idea that it was a perversion of accepted 
 doctrine, and view it as an honest attempt to show that 
 Christianity was the ultimate and universal religion. 
 The aberrations of the Gnostics were the natural and 
 inevitable result of the acceptance of the Christian 
 faith by men whose minds were already filled with 
 Greek ideas of life, and who felt the need of harmo- 
 nizing with the new revelation the knowledge they 
 already believed themselves to possess. The Christian 
 faith as proclaimed by our Lord involved a higher 
 conception of the relations of God and man than that 
 which had been reached even by the later Hebrew 
 prophets, but its universal spirit was not yet freed from 
 features due to its Jewish origin. The consequence 
 was that by the primitive Jewish community of 
 Christians it was held in a form which was coloured 
 by traditional modes of thought. The main struggle 
 of the Apostolic age was to liberate the spirit of 
 Christianity from the natural preconceptions of its 
 Jewish adherents, — a work which was begun by 
 St. Paul and carried out by the writer of the Fourth 
 Gospel.^ But the process could not stop here. Even 
 in the Apostolic age, Christianity found itself con- 
 
 ^ The writer of the Fourth Gospel has in his mind Alexandrian Judaism. 
 
254 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 fronted with believers who brought to it preconceptions 
 derived originally from Babylonian, Persian and other 
 oriental sources, and the danger which it had already 
 experienced of losing its universality from the survival 
 of Jewish beliefs, threatened it from this new source. 
 Evidences of this conflict meet us in the New Testa- 
 ment itself, especially in the Epistle to the Colossians 
 and the Revelation of St. John. A new danger 
 emerged when Christianity was embraced by men who 
 had been trained in the Hellenic philosophy of Alex- 
 andria. To this class belonged the great Gnostics 
 of the second century, who attempted to reconcile 
 Jewish, Oriental, Greek and Christian ideas, mainly 
 by weapons borrowed from Greek philosophy. Their 
 syncretistic method could not possibly yield a satis- 
 factory philosophy of religion, but they must get the 
 credit of forcing the problem to the front, and doing 
 their best to solve it. While, therefore, we do justice 
 to writers like Irenaeus, who instinctively revolted 
 against the dualism by which Gnosticism was largely 
 infected, we must not forget that but for the Gnostics 
 a Christian philosophy of religion would have been 
 impossible. Grant to Irenaeus what he never doubts 
 for a moment, that the conception of Christianity held 
 by the majority of the Churches in his day was identical 
 with the faith of our Lord and His disciples, and that 
 the salvation of man depended upon its implicit accept- 
 ance, and we can understand why he was unable to 
 account for its rejection by honest and fair-minded men 
 except on the hypothesis that they were perverse and 
 wicked sophists.^ The Gnostics he therefore pictured 
 to himself as a class of men who wilfully and sinfully 
 rejected the truth, and with a malignant ingenuity 
 sought to destroy the souls of their simple-minded 
 
 To Justin Mart5rr Gnosticism is the work of daemons. 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 255 
 
 dupes. Instead of accepting the plain sense of scrip- 
 ture, they constructed a colossal edifice of speculation 
 which only tended to overlay and obscure the Gospel. 
 All such speculations seemed to Irenaeus reprehensible, 
 not merely because they would not bear criticism, but 
 because they were speculations. It is true that the 
 Gnostics pretended to find their doctrines in scripture ; 
 but this was, to his mind, merely a pretext to conceal 
 the real character of their doctrine. Their object was 
 to destroy the souls of men, and the elaborate rhetorical 
 arts by which they sought to effect their evil purpose 
 were only a cloak for their perversity and wickedness. 
 Who but wicked men would dethrone God and put in 
 His place their absurd conception of the Demiurge? 
 Having formed such an image of the Gnostics, it is not 
 surprising that the shrewd but unspeculative Bishop 
 was unable to take a fair and judicial view of their 
 doctrines. 
 
 Now, of course, no blame can be attached to Irenaeus 
 for his vigorous polemic against the Gnostics. The 
 view that all speculation on divine things is hurtful 
 is not so unknown in our own day that we should 
 be surprised to find it in a Bishop of the second 
 century, whose main interest was in the saving of 
 souls, a task for which he was eminently qualified 
 by his zeal and strong practical sense. But, while 
 this is true, it is just as undeniable that his temper 
 was of the hard and limited type which made it 
 impossible for him to appreciate the efforts of more 
 reflective minds to bring the principles of the Christian 
 faith into connexion with a comprehensive theory of 
 the world. The experience of nineteen centuries has 
 taught us to view the movements of the early centuries 
 in their relation to the past and the future ; we now 
 recognize that, while Christianity is based upon a 
 
256 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 universal principle, that principle is not capable of 
 being imprisoned in a few simple truths, but, just 
 because it is a living thing, must be enriched by all 
 the elements with which it comes in contact. To 
 identify Christianity with its first simple form, and 
 reject its later developments merely because they are 
 later, is as unjustifiable as to prefer the germ to the 
 full-grown plant. We must, therefore, approach the 
 study of Gnosticism with the object of discovering how 
 far, in the wild whirl of conflicting ideas — Jewish, 
 Syrian, Babylonian, Persian and Greek — which was 
 characteristic of the age in which it appeared, it 
 prepared the way for a more perfect system of 
 theology than itself We are in no danger of 
 becoming Gnostics of the fantastic type which 
 flourished in the early centuries of our era, but we 
 may be in danger of coming under the influence of 
 its modern representatives ; and in any case it will 
 do us no harm to study impartially the early struggle 
 of Christian men to " give a reason for the faith that 
 was in them." The vagaries of Gnostic speculation are 
 at first sight strange and almost inexplicable, and, 
 indeed, no human being but a philosophical Dryasdust 
 can now take the least interest in the details, some 
 of them absurd in the extreme, of their multifarious 
 systems. I do not, however, propose to burden you 
 with these details further than is necessary ; it will be 
 enough to deal with the more important developments 
 of this early phase of theological speculation, in their 
 relation to the main current of doctrine, which gradually 
 gained for itself the sanction of the Church. 
 
 The term " Gnosticism " is sometimes used in a 
 wider, sometimes in a narrower sense. A recent writer 
 tells us that " Gnosticism is a religious movement which 
 is characterized by a seeking for Gnosis or enlighten- 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 257 
 
 ment for the purpose of finding salvation." ^ Taken in 
 this sense Gnosticism is older than Christianity, and 
 may be said to make its appearance with the Essenes, 
 who can be traced back to the second century before the 
 Christian era.^ In the more restricted sense of the 
 term, however, Gnosticism is an early form of 
 Christianity, which makes its appearance even in the 
 Apostolic Age, but only becomes a clearly marked 
 method of thought in the second century, under the 
 influence of Hellenic philosophy. Our subject is 
 Gnosticism in this second and generally accepted sense, 
 and it will be convenient to consider it in three 
 successive phases, as it presents itself in the first, 
 second and third centuries respectively. These three 
 phases may also be characterized as. Judaic, Hellenic 
 and Syriac Gnosticism. It will still further simplify 
 matters, if we set aside a number of systems or views 
 which have one or more features in common with the 
 main Gnostic systems, but which had little or no 
 influence upon the general current of theological 
 speculation. I shall therefore simply mention these, 
 shortly, without further entering into them. 
 
 First of all we have the Encratites^ who attached 
 supreme importance to the ascetic life, for which they 
 claimed the example of Christ. Next may be 
 mentioned the Docetists, who drew their ideas from 
 writings in which it was denied that Christ was a real 
 man, their view being that he was a heavenly spirit 
 with a phantasmal body. Then we have, thirdly, the 
 Carpocratians, whose doctrine was based upon a literal 
 interpretation of the Platonic idea of reminiscence 
 (avajuLvrjori^) and the pre-existence of souls. The world, 
 
 ^Carus in the Monisf for July, 1898, p. 502. 
 
 ^For a valuable account of the Essenes, see Lightfoot's Colossians and 
 Philemon^ pp. 83-93. 
 
 R 
 
258 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 on their view, is not the work of God, but of inferior 
 spirits ; and the true Gnosis is attained by those who 
 are able to recall the ideas which they had in a pre- 
 existent state, and are thus favoured with the vision of 
 the Supreme Unity. The superiority of Jesus over 
 other men they attributed to the unusual strength of 
 his " reminiscence " and the consequent spiritual 
 excellence and power to which he thus attained. 
 There seems little doubt that some members of this 
 sect fell into theoretical and practical Antinomianism; 
 the speculative basis of their doctrine, as attributed to 
 Epiphanes, the son of Carpocrates, being that external 
 actions do not affect the spirit and are therefore 
 morally indifferent In any case the Carpocratians 
 adopted the Communism suggested in the Republic of 
 Plato. Jesus they honoured as the greatest philosopher, 
 setting up his statue side by side with the statues of 
 Pythagoras, Plato and Aristotle. Besides these sects 
 there was a number of adventurers — magicians, prophe- 
 siers, and alchemists, — who affected the usual jargon of 
 their tribe, and employed magical incantations as a 
 means of duping the public and robbing women of 
 their honour. In contrast to these extreme sects, 
 which were Pagan rather than Christian, there was also 
 a variety of sects which only differed slightly from the 
 Christianity of ordinary believers. Having thus cleared 
 the way, we may go on to consider Gnosticism in its 
 first phase, or Judaic Gnosticism. 
 
 I. JUDAIC GNOSTICISM. 
 
 The most palpable traces of this Earliest form of 
 Christian Gnosticism are found in the Epistle to the 
 Colossians.^ The Apostle warns the Christian not to 
 
 ^Col. ii. 4, 8, 9, i8, 23. 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 259 
 
 be misled by the false teachers who threatened to 
 destroy the purity of Christian faith and practice. 
 These teachers insisted upon the observance of 
 Sabbaths and new moons, upon the distinction of 
 meats and drinks, and apparently upon the initiatory 
 rite of circumcision. This, of course, indicates that 
 they were Jews, who had found their homes in the 
 valley of the Lycus, and were unable to free themselves 
 from their faith in Jewish observances and ritual. But 
 they were not Jews of the ordinary type, as we 
 immediately see from the epistle, for the Apostle 
 goes on to mention three features which are not 
 Jewish, but Gnostic. In the first place these Jewish- 
 Christians plumed themselves upon a hidden wisdom 
 and exclusive mysteries, and claimed the special 
 illumination of a privileged class. Knowing, as we do, 
 the Apostle's universalism, it is not difficult to 
 understand his vigorous protest against this new 
 particularism. Just as he had in earlier epistles given 
 no quarter to national exclusiveness, so he now 
 denounces this new enemy, intellectual exclusiveness. 
 The true Gnosis, as he insists, is no " mystery,*' 
 revealed only to a privileged few, but is open to all 
 men who have faith in Christ. The false teachers 
 set up a " philosophy " which he characterizes as an 
 " empty deceit " based upon " sophistry." ^ The 
 " wisdom " to which they lay claim might deceive 
 many, but it was not the " wisdom " of the Gospel. 
 The rites of initiation which they practised were 
 diametrically opposed to the one universal " mystery," 
 the knowledge of God in Christ, which, as he declares, 
 contained " all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge 
 hidden in it" ^ Here is no " mystery," revealed only 
 to a few, but an " open secret," manifest to all who are 
 ^Col. ii. 8. 2 Col. ii. 2-3. 
 
26o PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 not prevented by waywardness and disobedience from 
 receiving it Secondly, the Apostle objects to the 
 cosmology and theology of the false teachers. It is 
 implied that they attributed the work of creation to 
 angels, instead of to the one Eternal Son, the Word of 
 God, " through whom and to whom all things have 
 been created." St. Paul also stigmatizes the worship 
 of angels as a false " humility," which is wrong in 
 principle.^ The idea that man may mount to God 
 by the ladder of intermediate beings is mere sophistry, 
 and is subversive of the mediatorial work of Christ. 
 In Christ dwells the " fulness " (Tr'Xripojfia.) of God, 
 and through him alone it is communicated to man.^ 
 Thirdly, the Apostle objects to the asceticism of the 
 false teachers, which was advocated by them as a 
 means of " checking the indulgence of the flesh." ^ 
 This end it entirely failed to accomplish, and he 
 maintains that the true remedy consists in spiritualiz- 
 ing the passions by a living faith — by dying with 
 Christ and rising again with him, and thereby 
 renewing the image of God in the soul. 
 
 There can be no doubt, then, that in the false 
 teaching referred to in the Epistle to the Colossians 
 we come upon an incipient Gnosticism. Even in the 
 Apostolic age there was a tendency to lose the central 
 idea of Christianity in an esoteric doctrine, in vague 
 mystical speculations and in asceticism. The vigorous 
 protest of the Apostle was, however, unsuccessful in 
 arresting the growth of Gnosticism, even in the 
 churches of the Lycus, as we see from the de- 
 nunciations of the Apocalypse, though in the second 
 century it assumed a different form. The transition 
 from the earlier to the later form we find in the 
 doctrine of Cerinthus,* who even in point of time 
 
 ^Col. ii. i8. ^Col. ii. gff. ^Col. ii. 23. * Flourished 98-117. 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 261 
 
 forms the link between the Gnosticism of the first 
 and the Gnosticism of the second century. 
 
 " Cerinthus," Irenaeus tells us, " taught that the 
 world was not made by the highest God, but by a 
 Power far removed from, and ignorant of, this Supreme 
 Being." ^ As we learn from other authorities, he held 
 the universe to have been created, not by a single 
 power, but by a number of powers. It is also stated 
 that, in his view, the Mosaic Law was given, not by 
 the supreme God, but by the angel, or one of the 
 angels, who created the world. The Christology of 
 Cerinthus is also Gnostic. Like the Ebionites he 
 " maintained that Jesus was born in the natural way, 
 though he excelled all other men in righteousness^ 
 intelligence and wisdom. Cerinthus further held that 
 after his baptism the Christ, descending upon Jesus 
 from the Supreme Ruler in the form of a dove, 
 revealed to him the unknown Father and worked 
 miracles through him, but at last took flight and 
 left him, so that Jesus alone suffered and rose again, 
 while the Christ, as a spiritual being, remained without 
 suffering." '2 
 
 In this account of the doctrine of Cerinthus we find 
 a feature which reappears in all subsequent Gnostic 
 systems, the conception that the world was not made 
 by God Himself, but by a subordinate agent. The 
 earlier conception of Jewish Christianity, as held by 
 the Ebionites, did not differ from the current Jewish 
 view that the world was the work of God. Cerinthus 
 has departed from this view so far as to ascribe 
 creation to a being lower than God ; but, on the 
 other hand, he conceives of this being, after the later 
 Jewish fashion, as an angel, not as a spiritual power 
 or Aeon. Thus his doctrine is evidently in process 
 
 ^Irenaeus, Refutation of Heresy, I. xxvi. I. ^ Ibid, I. xxvi. i. 
 
262 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 of transition from the Judaic to the later Gnostic 
 doctrine. And as the creator of the world is said 
 to be " far removed " from the supreme God, we must 
 suppose that Cerinthus held, more or less definitely, 
 the Gnostic theory of a number of intermediate 
 agencies, though he still conceived of these as angels, 
 not as emanations. Lastly, Cerinthus agrees with later 
 Gnostics in representing the Demiurge as also the 
 giver of the Mosaic Law, but he differs from them 
 in merely ascribing ignorance to him, while his 
 successors represent him as antagonistic to the supreme 
 and good God. 
 
 Now, it seems at first sight as if Cerinthus, in his 
 conception of an angelic creator, had fallen back upon 
 a lower conception than that of the Ebionites, who 
 held fast by the conception of God as the creator of 
 the universe. But we must distinguish between the 
 uncritical acceptance of a traditional belief and the first 
 imperfect effort to transcend it The Ebionites simply 
 accepted the common anthropomorphic idea that the 
 heavens and the earth are the work of God*s hands, 
 just as they clung to circumcision and were strict 
 observers of the Jewish ceremonial law. They were 
 only half liberated from Judaism, and therefore they 
 did not perceive that the Christian conception of a 
 self-revealing God was not identical with the traditional 
 Jewish conception. We can therefore understand why 
 they accepted only the Gospel of Matthew, and rejected 
 the teaching of Paul. Nor must we forget that the 
 Pauline conception of the Son of God as the creator 
 of the world must have seemed to them hardly less 
 objectionable than the angelic Demiurge of Cerinthus. 
 We must therefore be prepared to see in the doctrine 
 of Cerinthus, imperfect as it is, an advance upon the 
 doctrine of the ordinary Jewish Christians. What, 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 263 
 
 then, led Cerinthus to deny the direct creation of the 
 world by the supreme God, and to attribute it to an 
 angelic Demiurge? Partly no doubt it was logically 
 necessitated by the reflective movement of the time 
 towards a purely abstract conception of God, a con- 
 ception which, as we see from Philo, was explicitly 
 developed in the Alexandrian school of Jewish 
 philosophy. In the revolt from anthropomorphic 
 modes of conceiving the Supreme Being, God was 
 raised so high above all knowable reality, that the 
 difficulty was to find any mediation between Him and 
 the world. In this strait the belief in angels of later 
 Judaism seemed to offer a means of connecting the 
 Infinite with the Finite. Alexandrian Judaism solved 
 the difficulty by hypostatizing the attributes of God 
 as spiritual powers, through whose agency the world 
 was formed. The way for this doctrine had been 
 prepared by later Judaism in the books which 
 personified Wisdom as the daughter of God, and even 
 the Septuagint sought to preserve the spirituality and 
 independence of God by representing Him as acting 
 indirectly through angelic ministers. Cerinthus rather 
 inclined to this latter view than to the more abstract 
 conception of Philo, adopting a compromise between 
 the old and the new, in which the purified conception 
 of God was combined with the angelology of later 
 Judaism. This illogical doctrine, in which God was 
 viewed as at once the Author of all things and yet 
 as inactive, could not long be accepted, and hence later 
 Gnostics carried out the movement towards a more 
 spiritual conception of the universe by transforming the 
 angels of Cerinthus into ideal powers or Aeons, while pre- 
 serving the separateness of God from the world and the 
 creative activityof the subordinate agents. To this second 
 phase of Gnosticism attention must now be directed. 
 
264 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 II. HELLENIC GNOSTICISM 
 
 The main leaders of Gnosticism in the second 
 century, while they retain the characteristics we have 
 found exhibited by the " false teachers " among the 
 Colossians and by Cerinthus, differ in being largely 
 influenced by Greek ideas and modes of thought. 
 This inevitably gave a new character to their specula- 
 tions. Greek thought had for centuries occupied itself 
 with the problem of explaining the origin of the world, 
 and the principles which underlie the various forms of 
 being and of human society. Early Greek philosophy 
 turned against the anthropomorphism and polytheism 
 of the traditional mythology, and this movement finally 
 resulted, in the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle, in 
 a pure speculative Monotheism and in a closely 
 reasoned system of ideas, embracing the whole wealth 
 of knowledge as it then existed. In its later phases 
 Greek philosophy had come to despair of a solution 
 of the riddle of existence by the normal exercise of 
 reason. But, even when a basis for truth was sought 
 in religious intuition, the Greek tendency to intellectual 
 clearness led to the attempt to construct a system 
 of ideas, in which the reflective intellect could feel 
 itself at home. Christianity, with its new revelation 
 of the nature of God and man, compelled thinkers who 
 had been trained in the Greek schools to seek for a 
 view which should solve the problems raised by 
 philosophy, and it was inevitable that the attempt 
 should be made to bring the new ideas into harmony 
 with the preconceptions by which they were dominated. 
 To them Christianity presented itself, not merely as 
 a religion, but as a divine philosophy, and in it, 
 as they assumed, was to be found a complete answer 
 to the problems which philosophy had in vain 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 265 
 
 attempted to solve. But the Gospel was Jewish in 
 its origin, and had been presented by St. Paul as at 
 once a fulfilment and an abrogation of the whole 
 Mosaic Law. The problem therefore arose to determine 
 the relation of the Jewish religion to Christianity. 
 St. Paul had put forward the illuminating conception 
 of the Law as a divine preparation for the Gospel, and, 
 by the aid of this reconciling Idea, had extracted from 
 the Old Testament a testimony to the transitional 
 character of the whole Mosaic dispensation, while he 
 had also seen in the death and resurrection of Jesus 
 a revelation of the divine nature. In his interpretation 
 of the sacred records the Apostle employed the 
 prevalent allegorical method which had originated in 
 Greece, but always in subordination to the central 
 ideas of Christianity ; and in this way he was enabled 
 to reconcile the Jewish converts to Christianity without 
 destroying their reverence for the Old Testament as 
 the revelation of God. But St. Paul's training had 
 been rabbinical, though he was not entirely unin- 
 fluenced by Greek modes of thought, and hence men 
 like the Gnostics, whose training had been of a 
 different type, came to the Old Testament from 
 a different point of view. They admitted its divine 
 authority, but they found in it a hidden philosophy. 
 It was to them, as to Philo, by whom they were 
 largely influenced, a symbolic account of the liberation 
 of the spirit from the bondage of nature. This was 
 the method by which they were enabled to retain 
 the Old Testament as a Christian book, and yet to 
 affirm that Christianity was an entirely new revelation. 
 Preparation had already been made for this view in 
 the transformation which later Judaism had under- 
 gone under the influence of Babylonian and Persian 
 ideas, as well as of later Jewish speculation, which 
 
266 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 was already dominated by Greek ideas. Like Philo, 
 the Gnostics found a solvent for the difficulties 
 involved in the literal interpretation of the Old 
 Testament in the allegorical method of exegesis, which 
 was as much a legacy from Greece as the positive 
 ideas due to Greek philosophy. In support of this 
 method they could appeal to St. Paul and other New 
 Testament writers. By the aid of this potent instru- 
 ment, even the historical records of the Old Testament, 
 not to speak of its other contents, could be interpreted 
 as symbols of hidden truth. Instead of apocalyptic 
 dreams of a Messianic kingdom, the Gnostics sub- 
 stituted a mystical philosophy, in which the centre 
 of interest was transferred from the ordinary world 
 in which men live to a vague spiritual realm of 
 personified abstractions. But this transforming process 
 could not stop with the Old Testament. In the 
 second century the writings of the New Testament 
 were accepted as a divine revelation, certainly not 
 inferior to those of the Old Testament, and to them 
 was applied the same method of exegesis, so that 
 the birth, life, passion and ascension of the Lord 
 were interpreted as symbols of a great world- process. 
 Thus arose those fantastic creations of Hellenic 
 Gnosticism, in which an attempt was made to find 
 a solution of the problems of philosophy in a mystical 
 interpretation of the sacred records. And when it 
 was once admitted that Christianity in its inner essence 
 could only be understood by those who possessed the 
 inner light which enabled them to interpret the hidden 
 meaning of scripture, it was an obvious inference that 
 only those who were endowed with this faculty were 
 capable of that special Gnosis or illumination in which 
 salvation was supposed to consist, though at least 
 some of the Gnostic schools were willing to allow a 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 267 
 
 certain measure of illumination to the ordinary 
 Christian. 
 
 Now, though the Church refused to accept the 
 solutions proposed by the Gnostics, it has never 
 rejected the problem which they were the first to 
 formulate or the method which they employed in its 
 solution. The Gnostics are the first Christian theo- 
 logians, or rather the first Christian theologians who 
 sought to construct a theology on the basis of revela- 
 tion after the model of Greek philosophy and by the 
 use of the Greek allegorical exegesis. The problem 
 and the method were dictated by the stage of thought 
 at which the world had arrived, and neither the one 
 nor the other was rejected by the Church, nor was 
 the Church uninfluenced by Gnostic ideas, even when 
 these were untenable. Hence we cannot but sym- 
 pathize with the problem which the Gnostics were 
 attempting to solve. Convinced that Christianity was 
 the universal religion, they attempted to set forth 
 its fundamental ideas in their systematic connexion. 
 No doubt their method and the results reached by 
 them were very inadequate as an expression of the 
 essence of Christianity ; but nothing else could be 
 expected from men who lived before theology had 
 begun to take a definite shape. To them belongs 
 the credit of seeking to interpret all the knowledge, or 
 supposed knowledge, of their time in the light of 
 Christianity, a task which the theologian does not 
 always attempt. Let us then see what results these 
 initiators of theological science reached in their 
 attempt to construct a comprehensive religious philo- 
 sophy. Certainly their systems were arbitrary and 
 fantastic enough, but we may be certain that they 
 had some rational meaning, and were an effort to 
 explain problems with which we are still occupied. 
 
268 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 As Gnosticism was essentially a philosophy of 
 religion, it began with the conception of God, then 
 attempted to explain the origin of the world with 
 its finitude and evil by the hypothesis of emanation, 
 and concluded with an account of the restoration of 
 man to unity with God. It is thus evident that 
 Gnosticism makes no attempt to advance from the 
 nature of the world as known to us to the ultimate 
 principle of all things, but starts with the ultimate 
 principle and proceeds to deduce the various forms of 
 existence from it. The objection which at once 
 suggests itself to this whole method of procedure is 
 that it begins by assuming the idea of God, instead 
 of showing that that idea is necessarily presupposed 
 by the contents of our experience. And there can 
 be no doubt that the Gnostics, instead of seeking to 
 discover the true nature of God by an examination 
 of the nature of the knowable world, started with 
 the preconception of God as absolutely complete in 
 Himself apart from and independently of the world. 
 This indeed was inevitable in a philosophy which was 
 based, not upon the interpretation by reason of what 
 was known, but upon a revelation which transcended 
 reason. It must be observed, however, that the 
 Gnostics were led to adopt this method by the whole 
 movement of the age. By the development of the 
 religious consciousness in Greece, the conception of 
 God had been purified from anthropomorphism and 
 polytheism, and by a parallel development among the 
 Jews God had come to be conceived as the God of the 
 whole universe ; and hence the Gnostics naturally 
 started from the point of view of pure Monotheism. 
 Moreover, the Jewish- Alexandrian philosophy had 
 exalted God so far above the world that Philo was 
 led to declare that He was absolutely incomprehen- 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 269 
 
 sible by the human intelligence. The Gnostics there- 
 fore naturally assumed the conception of God which 
 had thus been reached in their day, and their problem 
 was to explain the relation of God to the world, and 
 especially to man. These considerations may explain 
 why the Gnostics start from the conception of God, 
 whom they consider as raised infinitely above all 
 particular forms of being. We shall best understand 
 the character of their theology by a comparison of 
 the two main representatives of Hellenic Gnosticism, 
 Valentinus and Basilides.^ 
 
 Before there was any created being, Valentinus 
 maintained; existed the Original Father, whom he 
 also calls the Depth, absolutely alone, uncreated, 
 without place, without time, without Counsellor or 
 any other Being that we can in any way conceive. 
 Here it will be observed that the predicates by which 
 the absolute is characterized are entirely negative. 
 God is not created, not in space, not in time, not 
 related to any other being. But, while Valentinus 
 denies that we can attribute any positive qualities 
 to the Divine Being, his use of the term Depth indi- 
 cates that he was led to deny all positive predicates of 
 the Absolute from his conviction of the infinite and 
 inexhaustible completeness of the divine nature. Thus 
 in the mind of Valentinus two opposite conceptions are 
 combined without any consciousness on his part that they 
 are mutually exclusive. The absolutely indeterminate 
 Being is at the same time the infinitely determinate 
 Being. Like Philo and Spinoza, Valentinus denies that 
 God can be defined, not because He is absolutely 
 simple, but because of the transcendent fulness of His 
 being. It would seem, however, from the account of 
 Irenaeus, that there were followers of Valentinus who 
 
 ^Valentinus d. circ. i6o ; Basilides fl. circ. 120. 
 
2^Q PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 sought to push the negative conception of God to 
 its utter extreme, and who therefore denied that even 
 " being " could be predicated of the Absolute. And 
 obviously this is the logical consequence of the denial 
 of all positive predicates, among which " being " must 
 be placed. This sect of Valentinians may have been 
 influenced by Basilides, who was a more consistent 
 thinker than his contemporary Valentinus, though 
 perhaps for that very reason he had fewer adherents. 
 We have, therefore, in Basilides the purest expression 
 of the Gnostic conception of God. Here is the account 
 given by Hippolytus of his doctrine. 
 
 " There was a time when there was nothing ; and 
 when I say ' nothing,' says Basilides, I mean to 
 express in plain and unambiguous language, without 
 equivocation of any kind, the idea that there was 
 absolutely no being whatever. I have, indeed, made 
 use of the term ' being ' in saying that there * was ' 
 nothing, but I employ the word only in a symbolical 
 sense. Let it be clearly understood, then, that nothing 
 whatever was. No doubt even this statement is inade- 
 quate ; for, even in saying that the First Principle is 
 ' inexpressible,* we imply that it is not altogether 
 ' inexpressible.' But what I mean is, that there is 
 no term by which it can be expressed, and therefore 
 that it cannot even be said to be * inexpressible.' 
 Even when we are speaking of the known world, 
 we find that language is unable to characterize the 
 infinite differences of things ; for it is impossible to 
 find precise terms for all things, and, though we can 
 comprehend the distinctive character of things by 
 thought, we are forced to employ current terms, 
 having no proper words by which to designate them. 
 This ambiguity in the use of words has produced 
 perplexity and confusion in the minds of the 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 271 
 
 uncultured. . . . There was, then, nothing, neither 
 matter, nor substance, nor that which is non-sub- 
 stantial, neither the simple nor the complex, neither 
 the unthought nor the unperceived, neither man, nor 
 angel, nor God — in short, nothing whatever that can be 
 named or perceived or thought. The God who was 
 not (6 ovK &v Oeog), being without thought, without 
 perception, without will, without purpose, without 
 passion, without desire, willed to make a world. I 
 say * willed,' however, merely because I am forced 
 to use some word, but I mean that the God who 
 was not * willed * without volition, without thought, 
 without perception ; and when I say * world,* I do not 
 mean the extended and divisible world which afterwards 
 came into being, with its capacity of division, but the 
 cosmical seed (a-Trepfia koct/hov). This ' seed * contained 
 all things within itself, just as the seed of the mustard 
 plant contains in minute form all at once roots, branches, 
 leaves and the innumerable seeds of future plants. Thus 
 the God that was not made the world that was not out 
 of what was not." ^ 
 
 Basilides, as you will see from this quotation, has the 
 courage of his convictions. It would be difficult to 
 express more fully the idea of the absolute transcend- 
 ence and inscrutability of God, or the logical consequences 
 of that idea. In considering the doctrine of Philo we 
 came across a similar view, for Philo also maintains 
 that it is impossible for man to comprehend the inner 
 nature of God. But Philo, while he denies that we can 
 predicate anything of God as He is in Himself, yet 
 affirms that we can say that He zs. Basilides is more 
 consistent. Since God is absolutely incomprehensible 
 and inexpressible, we must refuse even to say that 
 He is. For, to say that God zs, or was before the 
 
 ^Hippolytus, VII, 20-21. 
 
272 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 creation of the world, is to apply to the Infinite a 
 predicate which has meaning only in its application 
 to the finite. Borrowing an argument common in the 
 Peripatetic school of thinkers, Basilides seeks to show 
 that the human mind cannot even adequately conceive 
 or name the finite ; and therefore, as he implies, it is 
 not surprising that it cannot comprehend or express 
 the nature of the Infinite. 
 
 In this doctrine of Basilides we have the first clear 
 and unambiguous expression of a view which has 
 exercised a very great influence upon Christian 
 theology. That God absolutely transcends all know- 
 able forms of being, and as a consequence is 
 inconceivable and inexpressible, is a doctrine which, 
 as Hatch points out, " was adopted at the end of the 
 second century by the Christian philosophers of the 
 Alexandrian schools, who inherited the wealth at once 
 of regenerated Platonism, of Gnosticism, and of Theo- 
 sophic Judaism." ^ Clement of Alexandria, for example, 
 affirms that God is " beyond the One and higher than 
 the Monad itself." He cannot be named ; we cannot 
 say that He is "the One, or the Good, or Mind, or 
 Absolute Being, or Father, or Creator, or Lord." 
 
 Now, the whole conception of God as transcending 
 the knowable world is based upon the assumption that 
 He is absolutely complete in Himself prior to, or 
 independently of, the universe. It is not difficult 
 to understand how the first Christian theologians 
 should have been led to adopt this view. Christianity 
 was a development out of Judaism by the application 
 of later Greek ideas, and therefore it naturally insisted 
 strongly upon the infinite perfection of God. It is 
 true that while in the earliest Christian teaching God 
 is conceived of as invisible, He is not thought of as a 
 
 ^ Hatch's Influence of Greek Ideasy p. 255. 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 273 
 
 purely Spiritual Being ; but it was inevitable that, with 
 the rise of speculation, He should be conceived, if not 
 as transcending all knowable forms of being, at least as 
 existing beyond the visible universe ; and when it was 
 seen that God cannot be limited by space and time, the 
 natural inference was drawn, that He is not only infinite, 
 but is incomprehensible by the human intelligence in its 
 normal exercise. Nor can there be any doubt that the 
 first Christian theologians were influenced by such writers 
 as Philo, who had already partially effected the combi- 
 nation of Jewish and Greek conceptions. Basilides, in 
 his conception of" the God who was not," i.e.^ the God 
 who was still wrapped up in Himself and had not as 
 yet created the visible universe, was only expressing 
 the logical result of the negative movement from the 
 world to God. But, when God is conceived of as 
 beyond the world and as different in His essence from 
 all that is known by us, He necessarily becomes a 
 purely indeterminate Being, of whom nothing can 
 be said. 
 
 Now it would be a great mistake to undervalue the 
 importance of this negative movement. As the source 
 and principle of all being, God cannot be identified 
 with any particular form of being. He cannot be 
 simply one being existing side by side with others, 
 but must be conceived as in some sense comprehending 
 within Himself all that is, and therefore as in His essence 
 higher than the highest of the beings whose existence 
 is dependent upon Him. But, while this is true, the 
 transcendence of God cannot be admitted in the sense 
 in which it was held by theologians like Basilides, 
 unless we are prepared to admit that of God we know 
 absolutely nothing. Yet this is the inevitable result of 
 a self-consistent doctrine of the absolute transcendence 
 of God. As Basilides says, no predicate whatever, not 
 
 s 
 
274 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 even the predicate of "being," can be applied in 
 determination of that which is defined to be abso- 
 lutely indefinable ; and not only so, but we can make 
 no assertion whatever about God, nor form even the 
 faintest idea of His nature. Thus the name God comes 
 to be little more than the deification of the word " not," 
 and we are reduced to a condition of blank unconscious- 
 ness and utter speechlessness. 
 
 The motive for the purification of the idea of God 
 from all the predicates by which we characterize 
 known objects was undoubtedly a recognition of the 
 absolute perfection of God. As Basilides maintains, 
 the world as known to us is infinitely complex. No 
 two things are precisely the same, or, in other words, 
 each thing has its own individuality and is marked off 
 from all other things. Our conceptions of things, and 
 the names which we apply to them^ only express what 
 is common to all the members of a class, not what is 
 characteristic of each. It is impossible to define, and 
 therefore impossible to name the individual, and we 
 have to content ourselves with class names, which 
 leave out all that is peculiar to each. We should only 
 express adequately the nature of each thing if we had 
 a special name for each, and indeed for each of the 
 infinity of changes through which each thing passes. 
 Hence thought, and language as its expression, is 
 inadequate to the infinite multiplicity of objects and 
 events. Now, this argument, if pressed to its logical 
 conclusion, would seem to mean, when applied to God, 
 that we cannot think or express the divine nature, 
 because the very essence of thought and speech is to 
 deal with the abstract, whereas God is infinitely 
 concrete. And there is no doubt that, behind the 
 denial of Basilides and others that God can be 
 conceived, lies the idea that He is infinitely deter- 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 275 
 
 minate. On the other hand, the explicit doctrine of 
 Basilides is that God is absolutely indeterminate, and 
 therefore cannot be conceived or expressed. Now, 
 these two conceptions are obviously antithetical and 
 irreconcilable ; God cannot be at once infinitely deter- 
 minate and absolutely indeterminate, and we must 
 make clear to ourselves which conception we propose 
 to adopt, before we can advance a step in the 
 construction of a true theology. 
 
 As none of the predicates by which existence is 
 characterized are applicable to the Absolute, Basilides 
 naturally denies that we can speak of God as thinking, 
 perceiving or willing. Taken strictly, this would mean 
 that God has no definite nature. But Basilides 
 undoubtedly rather means to affirm that in God 
 all real distinctions cease to be distinctions and 
 are resolved into unity. Perhaps the following con- 
 siderations may help us to understand how he was 
 led, in his endeavour to preserve the absoluteness of 
 God, to deny of Him thought^ perception and will. 
 The thought of anything, as exercised by us, seems 
 to presuppose the independent existence of that about 
 which we think. Thought, as we have already seen, 
 was conceived by Basilides as an abstraction from the 
 infinite variety of objects, qualities and events presented 
 in experience. We fix our attention, as he supposed, 
 upon the common element in a number of objects, and 
 let drop the points in which they differ, and therefore 
 thought can never take up into itself the nature of 
 things. Now, if this is the nature of thought, it 
 cannot be predicated of God, because we should be 
 maintaining that objects existed prior to and inde- 
 pendent of God, and that God could not even 
 comprehend the whole nature of those objects. 
 Against such a doctrine Basilides protests. God is 
 
2/6 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 absolute,, and there can exist nothing apart from Him, 
 cind certainly nothing which He does not completely 
 comprehend. If we say that God is a thinking 
 being, we must suppose Him to think a world which 
 already exists independently of Him, and to think it 
 imperfectly. Hence the nature of God must be such 
 that it transcends thought. Nor can we predicate 
 perception of God ; for though perception, unlike 
 thought, comes into direct contact with things and 
 their qualities, it does not create the objects it 
 apprehends, a,nd it has this peculiar defect, that it 
 never deals wi,th the whple, but only with a part Per- 
 ception, in other words, cannot create its objects, nor 
 can it comprehend existence in its completeness. 
 But God must be creative of all things, and therefore 
 He can never be described as exercising a receptive 
 faculty like perception. Lastly, will cannot be ascribed 
 to God, because volition as we experience it in 
 ourselves — and we know of no other — is the process by 
 which we seek to complete our being by a transition 
 into a n.ew state; whereas God must be eternally 
 cpmpleta It was from such considerations as these 
 that Basilides was led to deny thought, perception and 
 will of God. He denied these predicates of God, 
 b^ecause they seemed to him to destroy the unity and 
 perfection of His nature^ which must transcend all such 
 limited forms of existence. 
 
 But, while it was the intention of Basilides to pre- 
 serve the absolute perfection of God by denying of 
 Him thought, perception and will, the logical result of 
 his doctrine was to empty the conception of God of all 
 meaning. He confuses the distinction of thought, 
 perception an4 will, and the distinction of subject and 
 objiect, with their absolute separation. It is quite 
 true that in God thought, perception and will cannot 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 277 
 
 be separate modes of activity ; but it is not true that 
 the Divine Intelligence can be devoid of all distinction. 
 It must be admitted that in God there can be no 
 absolute separation between that which He is and that 
 which He knows ; but it is not true that there is 
 within His nature no distinction between subject and 
 object. That Intelligence is perfect in which all dis- 
 tinctions are the expression of unity, and there can be 
 no Intelligence where there is no distinction of subject 
 and object. God must be conceived as self-conscious 
 Intelligence or Spirit, unless we are to fall back upon 
 a purely indeterminate Being, blindly originating 
 existence. Basilides is himself forced to admit that 
 we have to think and spe^k of God as " willing " ; 
 but he seeks to avoid the consequences of this 
 admission by saiying that the term will is applied to 
 God only in an analogical or symbolical sense. But 
 this only conceals the inner contradiction of his 
 doctrine. If " will " is employed in an analogical 
 sense, we must at least know that with which it is 
 contrasted. We cannot know that " will " is in any 
 sense applicable to God, unless we know how fat Jt 
 is true, and how far false. Thus we are reduded to 
 the dilemma : If we know what in God corresponds 
 to " will," we must be able to comprehend the nktufe 
 of God ; if we do not, we cannot know that th6re is 
 any correspondence whatever. 
 
LECTURE ELEVENTH 
 
 GNOSTIC THEOLOGY {Concluded) 
 
 The Gnostic conception of God, as absolutely com- 
 plete in Himself prior to and independent of the world, 
 obviously made the existence of the world a difficult 
 problem. Carried out to its logical result, the doctrine 
 would have led to the conclusion that the whole finite 
 universe has no true reality, but is an illusion due 
 to the imperfection of our human mode of conceiving 
 the absolute. But this oriental idea, though it left its 
 impress upon Gnostic speculation, was inconsistent 
 with the Jewish, Greek and Christian modes of con- 
 ception, and therefore the Gnostics sought at once to 
 maintain the absoluteness of God, and to account for 
 the origination of a world which was infected with 
 finitude and evil. To them it seemed manifest 
 that the world contained an element of imperfection, 
 while yet every order of being was continually striving 
 after the primal source of all being. The problem 
 which presented itself to their minds was to account 
 for the creation of an imperfect universe by a perfect 
 God. The answer which they gave was to attribute 
 the creation of the world, not to the supreme God, 
 but to a subordinate agent. By the device of a series 
 of intermediate " aeons " or " powers," the perfection 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 279 
 
 of the Absolute seemed to be preserved while yet the 
 origination of an imperfect world was explained. The 
 first step in the descent from the Absolute was the 
 production by emanation of the spiritual essence com- 
 posing the first realm of existence, the Ogdoad or 
 super-celestial region. The Gnostics did not agree 
 with each other in the names and number of the 
 " aeons " or " powers " which constituted the sum of 
 the heavenly essences, but they were at one in dis- 
 tinguishing the super-celestial region or Pleroma from 
 the celestial and the earthly realms. Valentinus, though 
 he had spoken of God as the inconceivable Depth, 
 yet employs the conception of a dual principle, an 
 active and a passive, analogous to the distinction of 
 male and female, in his attempt to explain the succes- 
 sive emanations from the Divine Being. The essential 
 nature of the Original Father was Love, and as Love 
 demands an object there flowed forth from the 
 unfathomable Depth the dual principle of Reason 
 (Nov<;) and Truth ('AXTjOeia), from which arose Thought 
 (Aoyoy) and Life (Zo)??), while from these again pro- 
 ceeded the archetypal Man {"kvOpauro^) and Church 
 ('E/c/cXi/tr/a), and these last gave rise to twelve aeons, 
 the most important of which was the female aeon 
 (Eo(f>[a), The details of this scheme are obviously 
 arbitrary. Valentinus obtained his " aeons " by hypo- 
 statizing abstract distinctions, derived partly from Greek 
 philosophy, partly from oriental sources, and partly 
 from Christianity. Setting aside the pictorial form of 
 the doctrine, what Valentinus seems to mean is that 
 the Original Father, by His self-limitation, originated a 
 number of partial manifestations of Himself. The 
 Pleroma is thus the revelation, but not the complete 
 revelation, of the inner nature of God. There is in 
 the conception of God as Love and as self-manifesting, 
 
28o PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 a distinctively Christian element, shrouded and dis- 
 torted as it is in the fantastic garb of a series of 
 projections, each of which is a less perfect expression 
 of the Divine Essence than its predecessor. Thus 
 there is a gradual descent in the scale of being. 
 
 A similar conception we find in Basilides, with this 
 difference, that he represents the divine " powers," as 
 he calls them, which constitute the super-celestial world 
 or Pieroma, as single, not dual. The successive 
 heavenly " powers " which he mentions are Reason 
 (Novs)y Thought (Aoyo?), Sagacity {^povtja-ig)^ Wisdom 
 (Eo<pia\ Power (Avvafxi^^ Righteousness (AiKaioavpri)^ 
 Peace (Elpiivtj), All these " powers " belong to the 
 super-celestial or heavenly realm. They are, like the 
 " aeons " of Valentinus, simply hypostatized distinc- 
 tions. The Gnostics, though their doctrine of the 
 inexpressible God arose in a revolt from anthropo- 
 morphism, show that they were still under its influence 
 by the manner in which they half-personify abstrac- 
 tions, which take the place of the gods of mythology. 
 There was thus in their doctrine a distinctively Pagan 
 element, which their opponents were not slow to point 
 out. 
 
 But how does the visible universe originate? for so 
 far we are still in the region of purely spiritual 
 essences. The explanation of Valentinus is as follows : 
 The lowest of the " aeons " is Wisdom (2o<pta), who 
 was subject to ambition and desire, and who, in ignor- 
 ance that the Uncreated One alone can produce what 
 is perfect, gave birth to a shapeless mass (e/cTjOw/Aa), 
 from which arose the visible world by means of the 
 Demiurge who fashioned it. What this means obviously 
 is, that the world is not the product of the supreme 
 God, but of a limited and imperfect being. The 
 motive of this doctrine of course was the desire to 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 281 
 
 preserve the absolute perfection of God, and yet to 
 explain how there should have proceeded from Him a 
 world which is full of imperfection and evil. The 
 device by which these incompatible ideas are sought 
 to be reconciled is by attributing the formation of the 
 world to a subordinate and limited being. The imper- 
 fection and evil found in the world are traced back 
 to a division in the divine nature, but the logical 
 consequence of this doctrine — the attribution of limi- 
 tation and evil to God — is sought to be avoided by 
 the conception of a Demiurge or subordinate being, 
 who is unable to produce a perfect world because 
 of his necessary limitations. But though Valentinus 
 regards all forms of subordinate existence as futile and 
 imperfect, he avoids the absolute dualism of two 
 opposite powers, which was characteristic of the later 
 Persian religion, by his principle that there is in the 
 finite an element of the divine, derived from its primal 
 source, and hence the idea of redemption from evil 
 constitutes the central idea of his theology. 
 
 The account of creation given by Basilides is less 
 disfigured by half-mythological fictions. Though he 
 maintains that we cannot in any way comprehend 
 the inner nature of God, he yet asserts that the world, 
 or rather the cosmical seed out of which the world 
 was to arise, was created " out of what was not." 
 How this took place is thus explained in the account 
 of Basilides. given by Hippolytus. " Whatever is 
 known to us, as well as what is yet unknown, has 
 originated from the primal cosmical seed. At the 
 appointed time this seed expands under the influence 
 of a God who is too great and mysterious to be con- 
 ceived or expressed . . . God but spoke the word, and 
 the 'seed' came into being. This is what Moses 
 declares ; for, as he tells us, * God said, let there be 
 
282 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 light, and there was h'ght.' Here we learn that light 
 was made out of nothing ; for scripture does not say 
 that light was formed out of anything, but simply that 
 it arose at the voice of Him who spoke. . . . Thus 
 the cosmical seed was created out of what was not, — 
 that seed being the word (Xoyog) which was spoken, 
 ' Let there be light/ This is the meaning of the 
 saying found in the Gospels : * He was the true light 
 which lighteth every man that cometh into the world/ 
 . . . Thus the cosmical seed is the primitive substrate 
 of all things. As Basilides himself says, * Whatever 
 comes into being subsequently is always contained in 
 the seed, as that which as yet is not, but is pre- 
 ordained to come into being by means of the God 
 who is not/ " ^ 
 
 Here we have the first clear expression of the 
 doctrine of creation out of nothing, — a doctrine which 
 was afterwards adopted by the Church and has 
 survived to our own day. The value of such a 
 conception we must not underestimate. It is the 
 first step in the liberation of Christian theology from 
 the false conception of God as the Architect of the 
 universe, acting upon a pre-existent " matter/' Philo 
 was unable to free himself from the pre-conception 
 of the eternity of " matter/' though he denied the 
 eternity of the cosmos or ordered world. Basilides 
 saw that the admission of an independent " matter " 
 is incompatible with the absoluteness of God, and 
 therefore he maintained the absolute origination of 
 the world, or rather of the cosmical seed. On the 
 other hand, he expresses the true idea of the absolute 
 origination of the world in a pictorial way, as if God 
 were first complete in Himself, and then brought the 
 cosmical seed into existence. This obviously leads 
 
 ^ Hippolytus, VII. 22. 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 283 
 
 back to the complete separation of God and the 
 world, and therefore makes the existence of the world 
 inexplicable. There is nothing in the nature of God, 
 as conceived by Basilides, to account for the creation 
 of anything, and therefore the origination of the world 
 is a purely arbitrary and inexplicable act. If God is 
 by His very nature self- revealing, we cannot regard 
 the act of creation as a superfluity, but as an ex- 
 pression of the very nature of a Creative Intelligence. 
 The product of creation, according to Basilides, is 
 not the world as an ordered whole, but the " seed of 
 the world." Thus we have the combination of the 
 two ideas of creation and evolution. The " cosmical 
 seed " is created, but, once created, it passes through 
 successive stages of development, in which there is a 
 double process of ascent and descent. This con- 
 ception of a " cosmical seed " is borrowed from the 
 widespread belief in a primitive chaos, which we find 
 among various nations, and which also appears in a 
 philosophical form among the Greek thinkers. It is 
 only in our own day that, through the progress of 
 science, the attempt has been made to reconcile the 
 conception of creation with that of development ; 
 and, though we must not attribute too much insight 
 to this early Christian philosopher, we cannot, as I 
 think, deny that in this respect he displayed a degree 
 of speculative insight superior to most of his succes- 
 sors. At the same time it must be admitted that 
 Basilides makes no attempt to reconcile the opposite 
 ideas of creation and evolution ; nor does he escape 
 from the dualism characteristic of Gnosticism. For 
 the " cosmical seed " contains within it an element of 
 " matter," after all, which is incompatible with the 
 perfection of God. Thus the congenital flaw in the 
 doctrine of Basilides remained, try as he might to 
 
284 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 conceal it. The cosmical seed in its first form is at 
 the furthest extreme from God, and to the last it 
 contains an irreducible element of irrationality and 
 evil. The whole subsequent theory of Basilides is an 
 attempt to explain how from this chaotic admixture 
 of good and evil the higher spiritual element is 
 separated ; but it was impossible for him to get rid 
 of his initial assumption that the evil involved in the 
 " cosmical seed " was inconsistent with the absolute 
 goodness of God. 
 
 " Let us, then " proceeds Hippolytus in his account 
 of Basilides, "see the order in which things were 
 developed from the cosmical seed. In the seed there 
 was contained a threefold Sonship (vlortj^), which was 
 absolutely identical in substance with the God that 
 was not, and was created out of nothing. The first 
 Sonship was refined, the second gross, the third Was 
 in need of purification. Now, the refined Sonship, 
 the moment the seed was created, throbbing with 
 life rushed aloft, * like a wing or thought,' to the 
 Creator ; for every created being strives after Him, 
 attracted by His exceeding beauty and loveliness. 
 The second Sonship, being of grosser nature, remained 
 in the seed, unable to ascend of itself; but, being 
 invested with the Holy Spirit, was borne aloft, 
 carrying the Spirit with it. Thus the Spirit appfoaehed 
 the first Sonship and the God who created the seed ; 
 but, not being of the same substance as God and the 
 first Sonship ... it was unable to enter the region 
 of the Creator. The second Sonship therefore left 
 the Spirit below the highest region, a r^ion beyond 
 thought or expression. But the Spirit was not 
 entirely forsaken of the Sonship . . . for, though 
 separated, it still had in it the fragrance of the Son- 
 ship. So we read : * As the ointment upon the head 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 285 
 
 which descended to the beard of Aaron.' . . . Now, 
 after the ascent of the first and second Sonship, a 
 firmament was placed between the super-cosmical and 
 the cosmical regions. Then there burst forth from 
 the cosmical seed the Great Archon, the Ruler of 
 the cosmos, who is unspeakably great in power and 
 wisdom and goodness. When he was generated out 
 of the cosmical seed, this Archon ascended to the 
 firmament, which he imagined to be the extreme 
 boundary of the universe. . . . Believing himself to 
 be Lord and Ruler and Creator, he proceeded to 
 fashion the cosmos, First of all he formed out of 
 what was beneath him a Son, who was better and 
 wiser than himself, as had been pre-ordained by the 
 God that was not when He created the cosmical 
 seed. Amazed at the beauty of his Son, the Great 
 Archon placed him at his own right hand, in what is 
 called the Ogdoad, i.e. in the aethereal region fashioned 
 by the Demiurge, where his Son operates in him and 
 counsels him, being much wiser than himself , . . All 
 aethereal things, then, — i.e. the whole region extending 
 downward to the sphere of the moon — are governed 
 by the Son of the Great Archon ; and below the 
 aether is the region of air. When the whole aethereal 
 region had been formed, there ascended from the 
 CQsmical seed another Archon» who was superior to 
 all that remained in it except what was left of the 
 Sonship, but much inferior to the first Archon. This 
 second Archon is also said to be inexpressible. He 
 d\yells in the region of the Hebdomad, and is 
 ruler over the whole of the region lying beneath 
 him. He also made a Son out of the cosmical 
 seed, who, was more intelligent and wiser than him- 
 self." 1 
 
 ^ Hippolytus, VII. 22-24. 
 
286 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 It is difficult for us to take much interest in this 
 complicated and artificial system ; but the general 
 idea of Basilides is intelligible enough. He presup- 
 poses the division of the universe into a super- 
 celestial region or heaven, a celestial region and a 
 terrestrial region. The threefold Sonship, again, 
 corresponds to these three regions, and, though each 
 is conceived as differing in degree, there is an identity 
 in substance or essential nature with the supreme 
 God. We may express the idea of Basilides by 
 saying that in the creation there are two elements — 
 the material and the spiritual — and that the spiritual 
 by the process of evolution separates from the 
 material and comes into unity with its primal source. 
 Expressed in terms of later theology, the doctrine is 
 that the Son is of the same substance or essential 
 nature as the Father, but is not eternally begotten. 
 Further, the Holy Spirit is not of the same substance 
 as the Father and the Son, but is at once created 
 and lower in nature. This doctrine of three degrees 
 of spiritual reality was necessitated by the primary 
 conception of the absolute separateness and self- 
 completeness of the supreme God. The fundamental 
 dualism of God and the world pervades the whole 
 theology of Basilides. The cosmical seed is not an 
 expression of the absolute nature of God, but contains 
 an unspiritual or evil element, so that the process of 
 regeneration consists in a complete separation of the 
 spiritual from the material. This is a distinctive 
 note of all Gnostic systems, which invariably assume 
 that matter is in some way the antithesis of spirit 
 On the other hand, the universe is not conceived as 
 absolutely evil. Neither Basilides nor any of the 
 other Gnostics adopt the Persian or Manichaean 
 absolute opposition of a good and an evil principle. 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 287 
 
 From this extreme view they save themselves by main- 
 taining that the world by its very nature contains 
 within it the promise and potency of good, or is 
 under the influence of the providence (irpovoia) of the 
 supreme God. This is expressed in a pictorial way 
 by the ascent of the Sonship to God, which, however, 
 is conceived as purely spiritual or super-human. This 
 was an important reservation, because it makes the 
 idea of an incarnation or manifestation of God in 
 man inexplicable. 
 
 The doctrine of the two Archons with their sons is 
 characteristic of Gnosticism. The First Archon is 
 the maker of the heavens, the second Archon of the 
 earth ; but the real Governor of the former is the Son 
 of the First Archon, the real Governor of the earth 
 the Son of the second Archon. This is Basilides' 
 way of saying that the created universe is under the 
 providence of God. The important point here is 
 that Basilides distinguishes between the Supreme God 
 and the subordinate agents, who carry out His will. 
 The motives for this dualistic doctrine were mainly 
 these two: (i) the endeavour to preserve the absolute 
 perfection of God by attributing creation and providence 
 to a subordinate agent ; (2) the attempt to account 
 for the inadequate conception of God contained in 
 the Old Testament. To this latter point we must 
 now direct our attention. 
 
 " After the completion of the cosmical and super- 
 cosmical regions," proceeds Hippolytus in his account 
 of the doctrine of Basilides, " there still remained in the 
 cosmical seed the third Sonship, which was to emerge 
 from the seed and ascend above the firmament ; as it 
 is written, ' The whole creation groaneth and travaileth 
 in pain, waiting for the manifestation of the sons of 
 God.' Now, by ' sons of God,' says Basilides, is meant 
 
288 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 'spiritual' men (ot '7rv€viuiaTiKoi)fWhosQ office it is to perfect 
 the souls which are placed in this lower world. Hence 
 we read that ' sin reigned from Adam to Moses/ This 
 means that the Great Archon who rules from the 
 firmament imagined himself to be the only God. Here, 
 according to Basilides, is the ' mystery ' which was 
 unknown to the early ages, the Great Archon being 
 supposed to be the Lord of all things. In truth the 
 Second Archon was the real Governor of the lower 
 world, and he it was who said to Moses : * I am the 
 God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, and I have not 
 revealed to them the name of God (as they would have 
 us read)/ ie, the name of the Great Archon. All the 
 prophets prior to the Saviour, they say, were inspired 
 by the Archon of the lower world. But when the time 
 had come for the revelation that we are the sons of God 
 — an event for which the whole creation groaned and 
 travailed — the Gospel came into the world, and passed 
 through every principality and power and dominion and 
 every name that is named/' ^ 
 
 We have here Basilides* view of the relation of 
 Judaism to Christianity. Like other Gnostics he was 
 strongly impressed by the new revelation of the nature 
 of God which had been made by Christianity, and 
 the problem forced itself upon him to reconcile 
 this idea with the statements in the Old Testa- 
 ment which seemed to him incompatible with it. St. 
 Paul had already solved the difficulty by the con- 
 ception of successive stages in the divine education of 
 the race, the first extending from Adam to Moses, the 
 second from Moses to Christ, and the last from Christ 
 to the end of the world. The Gnostics did not accept 
 this highly suggestive philosophy of history in the direct 
 Pauline form, though they claimed and indeed believed 
 ^ Hippolytus, VII. 25. 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 289 
 
 that they were following the hidden meaning of the 
 Apostle. Their exegesis involved a continual trans- 
 formation of the plain meaning of scripture, including 
 the Apostolic writings, and hence the Pauline scheme 
 was interpreted after their manner as at once a cosmo- 
 gony and a philosophy of history. St. Paul's conception 
 was based upon the absolute unchangeability of God ; 
 the Gnostics, with their theory of emanations, were led 
 to hold that inferior, though superhuman, powers were 
 the direct agencies, while yet they maintained that these 
 were the unconscious medium of the providence of God 
 Himself. It therefore seemed to them that the God of 
 the Old Testament was not the Supreme God, but one 
 of the inferior powers. To Basilides the Pauline saying 
 that " sin reigned from Adam to Moses " seemed to 
 refer to the sin of the Great Archon in claiming to 
 be the Supreme God ; and the period from Moses 
 to Christ was held to be the time when the Second 
 Archon, the God of the Jews, was the real Governor of 
 the world. To the objection that the Old Testament, 
 on his own showing, expressed this truth, and therefore 
 could not proceed from a being lower than God, 
 Basilides answered that the prophets were inspired by 
 the Second Archon, who was himself the unconscious 
 medium of the Supreme God. Basilides seems also to 
 have found in heathen nations testimony to the same 
 effect. Thus in his own way he endorses the Pauline 
 view of three great stages in the revelation of the nature 
 of God, maintaining that the first two stages were vague 
 anticipations of whatwas openly proclaimed by the Gospel, 
 What, then, was the precise nature of this new revelation? 
 " The Gospel was first revealed," we are told, *' by 
 the Son of the Great Archon to his Father, who learned 
 that he was not the God of the universe, but was 
 begotten. . . . The Great Archon was converted and 
 
 T 
 
290 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 filled with fear, when he saw in what ignorance he had 
 lain. This is what is meant by the saying : * The fear 
 of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.' For the 
 Great Archon began to be wise, being taught by his^ 
 Son the Christ, who revealed to him the God that was 
 not, explaining the nature of the Sonship and of the 
 Holy Spirit, as well as the destiny of the universe and 
 the manner in which the final restitution shall take 
 place. . . . When the mystery had been revealed to 
 the Great Archon and all his subjects, the Gospel must 
 next be proclaimed in the Hebdomad. This was done 
 by the Son of the Great Archon illuminating the Son 
 of the Second Archon, by whom it was revealed to his 
 Father ; whereupon the Second Archon was also thrown 
 into fear and confessed his sin. And when all the 
 Hebdomad had been illuminated, last of all our world 
 must also be illuminated, and the mystery revealed to 
 the Sonship still remaining in the formless world. . . . 
 The light therefore descended upon Jesus, the son of 
 Mary, as it is written, ' The Holy Spirit will come upon 
 thee, and the power of the Highest will overshadow 
 thee.'"^ The final consummation consists in the whole 
 Sonship being transformed, following Jesus, and sinking 
 purified into the bosom of the non-existent God. Till 
 then the universe endures, and 
 
 " Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, 
 Stains the white radiance of eternity." 
 
 In this daring doctrine salvation involves the deliver* 
 ance, not only of man, but first and primarily of the 
 inhabitants of the higher spheres of being. This is in 
 accordance with the general Gnostic doctrine, which 
 traces back the imperfection and evil existing in the 
 lower world to the Spiritual Powers dwelling in 
 ^ Hippolytus, VII. 26. 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 291 
 
 the Ogdoad and Hebdomad. And salvation, in the 
 one case as in the other, is conceived to consist in 
 a special illumination or Gnosis. As in our world the 
 Sonship is imbedded in " matter," it is further held 
 that only " spiritual " men are capable of salvation, or 
 at least of the highest illumination. 
 
 It is obvious that such a doctrine cannot admit the 
 identity of the man Jesus with the heavenly Christ, 
 which descended upon him. Basilides, in fact, main- 
 tained that there was no real union between the 
 heavenly Christ and the son of Mary, who was simply 
 the first of the *' spiritual " men, to whom was revealed 
 the great " mystery " of the inexpressible God. This, 
 however, was not the uniform doctrine of the Gnostics. 
 The Valentinians thought that the body of Jesus was 
 not human, but celestial, and therefore that he was only 
 apparently the son of Mary ; while others, of whom 
 Saturnilus is the representative, declared that the whole 
 appearance of Christ was a phantom, and therefore 
 denied the birth of Jesus altogether. It was quite in 
 accordance wiih this dualistic doctrine that the Gnostics 
 made a sharp distinction between " spiritual *' and 
 " natural " men, holding that only the former were 
 capable of Gnosis and the divine life, while the latter 
 were by their very constitution doomed to destruction. 
 The Valentinians so far modified this doctrine as to 
 hold that there are three classes of men — the " natural," 
 the " psychical " and the " spiritual " — and admitted that, 
 though the Gnosis is possible only for the last, the 
 second class are capable of a certain apprehension 
 of the supersensible by means of " faith.*' Combined 
 with this doctrine was the belief, common to all 
 Gnostics, that " spiritual " men are already in possession 
 of the highest truth, and merely wait for the time when 
 they shall enter into the heavenly Pleroma. 
 
292 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 We know what was said of this doctrine by the 
 Apostle Paul, when he found incipient traces of it 
 among the Colossians. For him the separation 
 between God and the Creator, and between Jesus 
 and the Father, as well as the intellectual particularism 
 which divided men into separate classes, was an entire 
 subversion of the Gospel. We have therefore no diffi- 
 culty in seeing that the Church, in resolutely rejecting 
 the whole Gnostic conception of the person of Jesus, 
 and the distinction of men into classes, was the true 
 successor of the Apostle. The aberrations of the 
 Gnostics enable us to sympathize with the acute 
 controversy of the fourth century over the doctrine 
 of the Trinity, and to see that the Church was right 
 in principle in maintaining the true humanity and true 
 divinity of Christ as inseparable from the universality 
 of the Christian faith, whatever may be said of the 
 form in which this fundamental truth was stated. Our 
 investigation into Hellenic Gnosticism makes it evident 
 that no true and consistent Theology can be based upon 
 the self-contradictory conception of the absolute trans- 
 cendence and unknowability of the divine nature. As 
 we have seen, it was this initial falsehood which led to 
 all the rest. Because of it, the daring hypothesis of 
 intermediate beings was advanced ; because of it, the 
 Creator of the world was distinguished from the one 
 God who is over all and through all and in all ; because 
 of it, the union of the divine and human was denied, 
 and Christian faith converted into an esoteric doctrine 
 revealed only to certain select souls. A true system of 
 Theology must be prepared to defend and make intelli- 
 gible the propositions which the Gnostics denied, but it 
 must seek to do so in terms of the enlarged experience 
 and knowledge of our own day. 
 
 Before passing to the third phase of Gnosticism 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 293 
 
 something must be said of the ethics of Hellenic 
 Gnosticism. Like all systems which set up an absolute 
 opposition between the natural and the spiritual, the 
 Gnostic ethics assumed either an ascetic or an anti- 
 nomian form. When the natural was viewed as evil, 
 the ascetic tendency prevailed, and the authority of 
 Christ and the Apostles, who were misrepresented as 
 ascetics, was invoked ; when the absolute spirituality 
 of the elect was insisted upon, the natural was regarded 
 as indifferent, and its adherents became worldly or 
 licentious. The Gnostics as a rule followed the nobler 
 tendency, but there can be no doubt that antinom- 
 ianism in the worst sense was the practical result 
 of the dualism of sense and spirit. The confusion 
 between asceticism and the spiritualization of the 
 natural has been made in all ages. The double 
 aspect of Christianity, which combines dying with 
 living, is apt to be misinterpreted, and the false 
 doctrine maintained that there is a special virtue in 
 self-mortification for its own sake. Thus the energies 
 of Christian men are apt to be diverted from the great 
 positive duties of life to an unhealthy brooding over 
 the inevitable weakness and sin of humanity. When 
 we see that this distorted ethics is bound up with a 
 dualistic theology, which forgets that all men are 
 " made in the image of God," we shall perhaps be 
 less ready to confuse the active transformation of the 
 natural into the spiritual with the mere negation of 
 the natural. At the very time when the Church was 
 branding Gnostic theology as heretical, it was succumb- 
 ing to Gnostic asceticism, and we have for centuries 
 the strange spectacle of the Church partially conquered 
 by its early enemy. 
 
294 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 III. SYRIAC GNOSTICISM. 
 
 We have seen the form which Gnosticism assumed 
 under Judaic and Hellenic influences, and it only 
 remains to consider it in its Syriac form, as it grew 
 up in the valley of the Euphrates. Here Christianity 
 appears to have been introduced only about the middle 
 of the second century, and to have been unaffected 
 by Greek philosophy. This immunity it owed to its 
 political isolation and its language. Until A.D. 216, 
 in the Reign of Caracalla, it was beyond the boundary 
 of the Roman Empire, and the Aramaic of Edessa, 
 its metropolis, differed from the Aramaic of Palmyra 
 and Palestine in much the same way as Lowland 
 " Scots " differs from the standard English. It was 
 therefore natural that a vernacular translation should 
 be made of the Old Testament and of that part of 
 the New Testament — the Gospels, the Epistles of St 
 Paul and the Acts — which was regarded as canonical. 
 How little this isolated Christian community was 
 affected by the burning controversies of Greek and 
 Latin Christianity is shown by the fact that in the 
 Homilies of Aphrates, written within half a century 
 after the Council of Nicaea, there is no reference to 
 the Arian controversy. This eastern branch of the 
 Church seems to have taken little interest in theological 
 speculation, and to have given its mind almost entirely 
 to the consideration of practical religion: 
 
 In such a community Gnosticism naturally assumed 
 a different form from that which was developed under 
 the predominant influence of Hellenic philosophy. The 
 Acts of Thomas, a Gnostic work belonging to the 
 middle of the third century, turns against unprofitable 
 speculations about the constitution of the spiritual 
 world. " As long as we are in this world," St. Thomas 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 295 
 
 is represented as saying, " we are unable to speak about 
 that which all the believers in God are going to 
 receive." In this Gnostic document no attempt is 
 made to account for the origin of the world, there 
 are no aeons and emanations, nor does the writer 
 seem disturbed by the difficulty of reconciling Judaism 
 and Christianity. Syriac Gnosticism, in fact, bears 
 a much closer resemblance to the Gnosticism which 
 ^appeared in the Colossian church than to the specu- 
 lative Gnosticism of Alexandria. At the same time 
 it is not wanting in certain features which show that, 
 if it did not indulge in large speculations about the 
 nature of God, man and the world, this was due 
 mainly to its lack of reflection, and not to any 
 superiority in the fundamental ideas by which its 
 view of life was dominated. 
 
 The Acls of Thomas is as unspeculative in form 
 as in content. It purports to narrate the adventures 
 of Judas Thomas, the twin-brother of our Lord — a 
 daring fiction which only a Gnostic could have believed 
 — in his efforts to preach the Gospel in India. It is 
 •quite misleading to compare a work of this kind to 
 the modern " religious novel," as a recent author does ; 
 for we cannot doubt that, fabulous as the story is, 
 it embodied the legend which had gradually grown 
 up around the shrine of St. Thomas, whose bones 
 wpre reputed to be preserved at Edessa. The book 
 indicates a belief in angels, in devils which assume 
 the form of a black snake, in " an ass's colt of the 
 stock that served the prophet Balaam," in demoniac 
 possession, and in the magical virtue of the dust of 
 the Saint. But, besides these oriental characteristics, 
 its main motive is to insist upon asceticism, as the 
 true Christian ideal, — a doctrine which is explicitly 
 •connected with the assumption of the evil nature of 
 
296 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 matter. The story tells how the King of a certain 
 place gave a great feast to celebrate his only daughter's 
 marriage. "When the bride and bridegroom are alone 
 our Lord himself appears to them in the likeness of 
 Thomas and persuades them both to a life of virginity." 
 On another occasion "a young man's hand withers^ 
 and he confesses that he had killed a woman who 
 would not live a life of virginity with him. On his 
 repentance he brings Thomas to the dead woman's, 
 body, and by means of the Apostle she is brought 
 to life again, and describes the torments of the unchaste 
 that she had seen in hell." Again, " while the Apostle 
 is preaching in India, the General of King Magdai 
 comes beseeching him to free his wife and daughter 
 from evil and lascivious devils. Thomas leaves his- 
 converts under the care of the deacon Xanthippus 
 and goes with the General. On the way the horses 
 of their chariot break down^ but four wild asses come 
 to be harnessed in their stead, and with their help 
 the devils are driven out and the women healed." 
 There are other stories of the same kind, all teaching 
 the same Gnostic doctrine. There is a similar glori- 
 fication of poverty. Thomas agreed to build a palace 
 for King Gundaphar in India ; but, instead of doing 
 so, he spent the money given him for that purpose 
 among the poor. Thomas was cast into prison, but 
 the King, on hearing the dream of his brother Gad^ 
 in which he saw a magnificent palace in heaven, which 
 was the very palace built by the Apostle, repented 
 and was baptised. Further, if the Acts of Thomas is 
 free from the " uncouth jargon of Aeons and Emana- 
 tions," as Mr. Burkitt contends, it is by no means 
 free from that symbolic mysticism which is charac- 
 teristic of Gnosticism, and from a belief in the 
 unknowability of the spiritual world. 
 
GNOSTIC THEOLOGY 297 
 
 It must not be supposed that Syrian Gnosticism has. 
 produced nothing better than the superstitious and 
 unspeculative Aats of Thomas. There is a contem- 
 porary work, now believed to have been written by 
 Philip, a disciple of Bardaisan, which, perhaps, exhibits- 
 Gnosticism at its best. The main aim of the author 
 was to reconcile the providence of God with the free- 
 will of man, but its Gnostic character is revealed hy 
 its curious explanation of the origin of the cosmos,, 
 and its exclusion of those who " were not created for 
 good and are called tares " from all hope of salvation. 
 The universe, according to this author, is composed 
 of elemental beings, which constitute the primitive 
 " matter " of all things. Unlike Basilides, Philip there- 
 fore denied the absolute creation of matter out of 
 nothing. His view is that the work of creation con- 
 sisted in bringing the primitive elements into an orderly 
 shape, so that each, keeping its own sphere, might, 
 work in harmony with all the rest. He contends that 
 even the elements have a certain degree of freedom^ 
 and must appear at the Last Day to answer for their 
 acts. Only man, however, has freedom in the full 
 sense of the term. This gift of freedom is advanced 
 as the reason why God did not make man incapable 
 of sin, and it is contended that it is in respect of the 
 gift of free-will that man was made in the image of 
 God. There are three influences at work upon man — 
 nature^ fate and free-will. By nature all men share 
 in the common lot of birth, life and death ; by fate 
 they experience distinctions of wealth and power, 
 health and sickness ; by free-will they are able to 
 modify their fate, and the use they make of their 
 freedom determines their immortal destiny. " Even if 
 a man be poor and sick he can love and bless and 
 speak the truth, and can pray for the good of every 
 
298 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 man he knows ; while if he be rich and strong he 
 -can in addition help his neighbour. Nothing can 
 hinder us from these things ; we are not commanded 
 to do anything involving bodily strength or mental 
 cleverness. . . . The commandments of God are easy ; 
 it is success in this life that is barred with obstacles." 
 It is a relief to escape from the puerilities and sickly 
 asceticism of the Acts of Thomas to a work which, 
 if it is disfigured to some extent by a dualistic opposi- 
 tion of God and the world, the spiritual and the natural, 
 is on the whole permeated by a healthy vein of 
 -Christian speculation. 
 
LECTURE TWELFTH 
 
 AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 
 
 In Gnosticism we have found a philosophy of religion 
 in which the distinctive principle of Christianity does not 
 find anything like a clear and adequate expression. We 
 have now to enquire how far this defect is remedied in the 
 doctrine of Augustine, the first great speculative genius 
 of the Christian Church. Like all the great thinkers 
 who have left their impress on their own and succeeding 
 ageSj Augustine came under the influence of the main 
 natural and spiritual forces which were operative in his 
 day, and it is this fulness of life which gives to his 
 development its instructiveness and its importance. 
 Though nothing was further from his own thoughts, it 
 is none the less true that he gave to the Christian 
 religious consciousness, and to Christian doctrine, a 
 new form and content. This result was partly due to 
 the struggle through which he passed, and to the wide 
 and varied culture which he assimilated. The son of 
 a heathen father and a Christian mother, there was 
 from his very earliest days a contradiction in his mind 
 which must needs, in a man of such veracity and 
 sincerity, lead in the course of his development to 
 disturbance and unrest. 
 
 From his father Augustine received his impassioned 
 
300 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 temperament, from his mother that profound reverence 
 which is the source of all true religion. Thus there 
 was in his nature from the first a conflict of opposite 
 tendencies, which forced him to penetrate into the 
 hidden springs of being. This complexity was part 
 of the secret of his power ; for it is not simple homo- 
 geneous natures, which never experience the conflicts 
 of doubt, that are destined to be the great benefactors 
 of the race, but those impassioned and struggling 
 natures which are saved " so as by fire." Had Augus- 
 tine not passed through a region of doubt and conflict^ 
 he would never have been the reformer of Christian 
 piety, and the great speculative thinker that he proved 
 himself to be. 
 
 His first awakening from the life of unregulated 
 passion Augustine himself ascribes to the reading of 
 Cicero's Hortensius. Though he had never ceased to 
 attend the ordinary religious services of the church, 
 the Christian faith was for him, as he himself says, 
 superstitio quaedam puerilis ; in other words, he simply 
 accepted the traditional faith passively, without any 
 real vital belief in it, and he was first inspired with the 
 vision of something higher than the life of sense and 
 the empty elegances of the rhetoric of his day by Cicero's 
 defence of philosophy, though he was repelled by the 
 absence from it of all distinctively Christian teaching. 
 His next stage was therefore to turn to the study of 
 scripture, in order to see if he could there find the 
 truth which Cicero had extolled without revealing. 
 The immediate effect was repulsion. The pupil of 
 Cicero did not find in the sacred writings the dignity 
 and eloquence of his model. The reason he gives for 
 his dissatisfaction is significant : the profound truth 
 contained in the sacred writings was, he says, veiled 
 in " mysteries," and to these he had not as yet the 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 301 
 
 key. This key was the allegorical method which he 
 afterwards learned from Ambrose. 
 
 Unsatisfied in his quest, Augustine turned to Mani- 
 chaeism, and for nine years he was a believer in its 
 truth. No phase of his development is more important 
 ■ than this, and we must therefore try to make clear 
 to ourselves the secret of its power. How did Augus- 
 tine, with his Christian training and his newly- 
 awakened thirst for truth, come to accept the 
 Manichaean philosophy? 
 
 In the end of the third century, three great religious 
 creeds were struggling for the mastery : Manichaeism, 
 Neoplatonism, and Catholic Christianity. Each of 
 these had a history, which in its origin went back more 
 than a thousand years, and started from an entirely 
 different point. Manichaeism was a development 
 from the ancient Babylonian religion, a religion which 
 was based upon the worship of the great powers of 
 nature ; Neoplatonism was evolved out of Greek 
 polytheism, which had converted the earlier worship 
 of the powers of nature into personal gods by the 
 transforming influence of the artistic genius of the 
 Greeks ; Catholic Christianity was developed out of 
 Jewish Monotheism into the new conception of a self- 
 manifesting God, who had revealed Himself in His 
 Son as in His essence the God of Love. At the end 
 of the third cenutry, each of these systems had been 
 so transformed, that the national and particularist 
 character which it originally possessed had disappeared. 
 They were universal forms of faith, claiming the allegi- 
 ance of all men, putting forth a precise doctrine of 
 God, the world and history, laying down a specific 
 system of morality, and prescribing a definite ritual. 
 They had thus ceased to be the simple expression 
 of naive religious feeling, and had become reflective 
 
302 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 and self-conscious. Nor had these systems reached 
 their mature form without being more or less influenced 
 by one another, as well as by other foreign ingredients. 
 Manichaeism, though its basis was Babylonian, had 
 appropriated Persian and Christian, if not Buddhistic, 
 elements. Neoplatonism developed from Greek poly- 
 theism, but it also came under oriental influences, and 
 received its peculiar form from philosophical specu- 
 lation. Catholic Christianity was not the passive 
 acceptance of the simple faith of the primitive Chris- 
 tian, but an organized system, which had been developed 
 by Hellenic speculation, and had assimilated various 
 elements from its antagonists. There are certain ideas 
 common to all three : the ideas of revelation,^ =53 "vation, 
 and immortality. It was inevitable that Neoplatonism 
 should first succumb to its rivals. In Plotinus it was 
 rather an abstract philosophical creed than a religion, 
 and though later Neoplatonists made an attempt to 
 incorporate polytheism, the attempt was foredoomed 
 to failure, since polytheism had become incredible. By 
 the middle of the fourth century Neoplatonism had 
 been practically overcome by Christianity, though it 
 still survived as the creed of individual thinkers for 
 two centuries more. Manichaeism, which had a much 
 firmer hold of the popular mind, maintained its footing, 
 in the east and the west, far into the Middle Ages. 
 
 In Augustine's day, the struggle of Manichaeism 
 with Christianity was still going on. In virtue of 
 its greater spiritual depth and significance, Christianity 
 was bound to triumph in the long run, but meantime 
 its opponent had many followers. The inner develop- 
 ment of Augustine shows us in a very clear way what 
 was the source of its strength. Its half-mythological 
 representation of God appealed to the multitude, who 
 in all ages are prone to figure the divine in a sensuous 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 305 
 
 way ; it also seemed to afford a solution of the origin 
 of evil ; by its ascetic morality and its simple organiza- 
 tion it appealed to the higher intuitions of men ; while 
 it also held out to them hopes of a blessed im- 
 mortality. 
 
 Of the main doctrines of Mani himself, we are 
 now able to form a tolerably clear idea, though many 
 of the details of the system are obscure. The doctrine 
 of Mani, like the early speculations of the Christian 
 Gnostics, rests upon a confusion between the natural 
 and the spiritual. It is fundamentally dualistic in its 
 character — for though Mani did not derive existence 
 from two separate powers, but traced all back to a 
 single primal unity, that unity was for him rather a 
 pious imagination than a reasoned belief When he- 
 comes to tell us what is the nature of the universe,, 
 he is essentially dualistic. As in the Persian religion, 
 there are two great antagonistic powers, light and 
 darkness, good and evil. We are apt to think of 
 light as merely a symbol of goodness, darkness as a 
 symbol of evil ; but so to read the doctrine is to import 
 into it a distinction which for Mani did not exist.. 
 It is difficult for us to realize that there was a time 
 when there was no clear demarcation between the 
 natural and the spiritual ; but there can be no doubt 
 that, to Mani's mind, light and goodness, darkness and 
 evil, formed one inseparable idea. It is, therefore,, 
 hardly correct to say with Harnack that " the system 
 of Mani is thoroughly materialistic." Materialism is 
 an explicit reduction of the spiritual to the material,, 
 and no such reduction can be made by one who 
 has never distinguished the one from the other. To 
 know the nature of the world was therefore for Mani 
 to know the ultimate nature of existence. Liberation 
 from' evil is for him the natural process by which the 
 
304 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 particles of light are freed from their intermixture with 
 the particles of darkness. On such a theory morality 
 consists in the elimination of the elements which 
 proceed from the realm of darkness. 
 
 When Mani cast his eyes over the world, he seemed 
 to see that two absolutely opposite forces were at work 
 in it — on the one side the gentle zephyr, the cooling 
 wind, the bright light, the vitalizing fire, the trans- 
 parent water ; on the other side, mist, glowing heat, 
 tempest, gloom, cloud. Taking his cue from the 
 Babylonian religion and from Parseeism, he sought 
 to explain the conflict of opposite forces by the 
 conception of two antagonistic principles, entirely 
 separated from each other — the principle of light 
 and the principle of darkness. These were conceived, 
 after the manner of the Babylonian religion, as 
 occupying two separate realms or kingdoms. In the 
 kingdom of light were the upper heavens and earth, 
 presided over by glorious Aeons, and having God 
 at its head, the Primal Good, whose attributes were 
 love, faith, fidelity, nobility, wisdom, gentleness, know- 
 ledge, understanding, memory and insight The 
 kingdom of darkness had also at its head female 
 personifications, but it was not presided over by 
 God. From all eternity these two kingdoms had 
 been opposed to each other. They were spacially 
 separated, the kingdom of light above, the kingdom 
 of darkness below ; the lower side of the kingdom 
 of light coming in contact with the upper side of 
 the kingdom of darkness. The one kingdom never 
 •encroaches on the other, but each remains entirely 
 distinct. There is no special difficulty in seeing that 
 Mani, after the fashion of the religions of nature, 
 imaged spiritual powers as vast physically extended 
 realities, thus converting abstract properties into spacial 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 305 
 
 magnitudes. In this way he created a fantastic cos- 
 mology, which he employed to explain the conflict 
 of spiritual forces. From the kingdom of darkness 
 arose Satan and his demons — a conception which 
 Mani, like the later Jewish religion, no doubt borrowed 
 from Persia, and which was also imported into 
 Catholic Christianity. Urged by his inner nature, 
 Satan made an assault on the kingdom of light, 
 making the point of his attack the light-earth. To 
 meet this attack the light-God created the " primal 
 man," endowing him with the five pure elements. 
 Satan was victorious. Then the light-God himself 
 came forth, and, by the help of new Aeons, conquered 
 Satan and freed the " primal man.*' The " primal 
 man," however, was forced to descend into the abyss, 
 because in the conflict with Satan elements of darkness 
 were intermingled with the elements of light. At the 
 command of the light-God the visible heavens and 
 earth were made, and were upheld by the Aeons, 
 the angels of light. The primal man dwells in the 
 sun, along with the holy spirits who carry on the 
 work of redemption ; in the moon is enthroned 
 the mother of life, and in the twelve stars are the 
 primal elements of animal life. Our world is not 
 entirely devoid of light-particles, which are diffused 
 everywhere and which, entering into living beings, 
 there wait for liberation. While the world is regarded 
 as the creation of good spirits, man was the product 
 of Satan, in union with sin, avarice and lust. But 
 Satan, in forming man, put into him the particles of 
 light, of which he had robbed the kingdom of light 
 in order to rule with greater security. Adam had 
 therefore a double nature, being formed after the 
 image of Satan, while yet containing elements of 
 light. Eve had a small element of light in her 
 
 u 
 
3o6 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 nature, but she was regarded as mainly endowed with 
 a seductive sensibility which led to the fall of Adam. 
 To free man from the rule of Satan prophets were 
 sent into the world, among them Noah, Abraham, 
 and perhaps Zoroaster and Buddha. Jesus, Mani 
 seems also to have placed among the prophets ; not, 
 however, the historical Jesus, the Messiah of the Jews, 
 but a spiritual Jesus sent down from the world of 
 light, who neither suffered nor died {Jesus impatibilis). 
 The greatest and last of the prophets was Mani 
 himself, who took up the work of Jesus and Paul ; 
 for Paul also was recognized as a prophet. Mani 
 claimed to be a messenger of light, the " Paraclete," 
 promised by Jesus. Through him and his followers 
 the separation of light from darkness is to be 
 accomplished. He who is not saved in this world, 
 must undergo a process of purification in the next. 
 Mani, however, did not, as is sometimes supposed, 
 hold the doctrine of metempsychosis. 
 
 It is obvious that the fundamental principle of 
 this fantastic cosmogony is the absolute opposition 
 of light and darkness, good and evil ; and hence the 
 ethical doctrine of Mani could only be ascetic. On 
 the other hand, since liberation from the elements of 
 darkness and a purification of the particles of light 
 are maintained, the ethics of Mani is not entirely 
 negative. In practice, however, Manichaeism was of 
 a strongly ascetic character. The elect must abstain 
 from animal food and wine, and though they are 
 permitted a vegetable diet, they are forbidden to 
 pluck the fruit of trees. They must also abstain 
 from marriage, and submit to a very rigorous system 
 of fasts, occupying almost one-fourth of the year. 
 They had to offer up prayer four times a day, turning 
 towards the sun and moon as the sources of light. 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 307 
 
 These stringent regulations could only be imposed 
 on the elect, while the auditores or catechumens were 
 merely forbidden to worship idols, to practice magic, 
 and, above all, to kill living beings. Thus arose a 
 double morality, similar to the distinction in the 
 Catholic church between the clergy and the laity. 
 Great respect was naturally paid to the elect, who 
 were regarded as saviours, and who, by their ascetic 
 life, shortened the punishment which the auditores had 
 to undergo after death. A characteristic feature was 
 the view that only the elect were in full possession of 
 religious truth. The Manichaean church formed a 
 hierarchy. At the head were the teachers, or sons 
 of gentleness ; then came the rulers or bishops, the 
 sons of knowledge ; next the elders or presbyters^ 
 the sons of understanding ; then the electi^ the sons 
 of memory; lastly the auditores^ the sons of insight. 
 One of the teachers seems to have been the head 
 or Pope of the whole Manichaean church, which had 
 therefore a monarchical constitution. 
 
 The attraction of Manichaeism for Augustine at this 
 stage of his development lay partly in the difficulty he 
 found in accepting the Catholic doctrines, and partly in 
 the solution Manichaeism seemed to ^w^ of fundamental 
 problems. At this time Augustine thought that the 
 Manichaeans were right in their negative criticism of 
 the Old Testament. To represent God in an anthropo- 
 morphic way, as he held, was incompatible with the 
 divine nature, while the accounts of the patriarchs 
 dishonoured God by representing as favourites of the 
 true God, men whose lives and actions were contrary 
 to a high code of morality. Augustine also seemed to 
 find in the doctrines of the Manichaeans a solution of the 
 problem of evil and of human freedom. He was unable 
 to see how evil could be ascribed to the freedom of 
 
308 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 man ; rather it seemed to him to be the inevitable 
 result of his nature. On the other hand, it was, as 
 he thought, impossible to attribute evil to God, and 
 therefore the Manichaean doctrine of an evil principle, 
 entirely foreign to God, seemed to afford a way of 
 escape from the blasphemous idea that God was the 
 author of evil. Another thing which attracted him in 
 Manichaeism was the high place it gave to the love of 
 truth, asserting that man must in no case accept any- 
 thing not demonstrable by reason. Augustine was also 
 drawn to Manichaeism by the reputation for holiness of 
 Mani and his foHowers, and by their ascetic practices, 
 which he valued all the more from their contrast to the 
 life of sense he had formerly led. In embracing Mani- 
 chaeism, Augustine did not feel that he was abandoning 
 Christianity, for the Manichaeans of his day gave a high 
 place in their system, at least in words, to the founder 
 of Christianity. 
 
 Augustine's remarks on Aristotle's " Categories," 
 which he read in his Manichaean period, show that he 
 was not able, in his preoccupation with the new problems 
 of his age, to appreciate the aim of Aristotle in this 
 analysis of the main elements by which being is charac- 
 terized. The use Augustine made of it was to apply to 
 his Manichaean conception of God, as an infinitely 
 extended substance, the categories which for Aristotle 
 were simply the most general modes of determining 
 things. In this external application to a foreign 
 matter of predicates accepted on authority, we have 
 the beginning of a false method, which afterwards 
 played so large a part in Scholasticism. 
 
 In his twenty-sixth or twenty-seventh year, Augustine 
 wrote a work on the Beautiful and Fit The aesthetic 
 theory which he here laid down we only know in 
 general, for at the time when he wrote the Con- 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 309 
 
 fessions it had disappeared, and its author no longer 
 took any interest in it. Starting from the ancient 
 principle that the " Beautiful " consists in symmetry 
 and harmony of parts, he distinguishes from it the 
 " Fit," which consists in a harmonious relation between 
 one thing and another. Thus, any organ of the living 
 being is " beautiful " in so far as it forms part of 
 a symmetrical whole, while the shoe is " fit " as adapted 
 to the foot. Augustine, however, if we are to judge 
 from what he says in a later work {De Civitate Dety xi. 
 18-23, xxii. 19), maintained that the beautiful is more 
 than the symmetrical, implying as it does the contrast 
 of opposites. In accordance with his mode of thought 
 at the time, he applies this theory of the beautiful to 
 the universe as a whole. As the one universe contains 
 the two opposite principles of good and evil, while yet 
 it is a unity, it does not cease to be beautiful because it 
 contains what is noxious and dangerous. Evil has its 
 due place in the world, and so far is essential to the 
 beauty of the whole. This doctrine, of course, harmo- 
 nises with the Manichaeism, which then formed the 
 philosophical creed of Augustine. It is worth observing 
 that in this attempt to explain why beautiful objects 
 attract us, Augustine is not satisfied with the easy- 
 going solution of Cicero as to the good providence 
 of God, but insists upon facing the problem of the 
 existence of ugliness and evil. It would not be true to 
 say that he owed this deeper view of things to 
 Manichaeism, but we can hardly be wrong in saying 
 that he found Manichaeism so attractive, just because 
 he had reached a point, and his age had reached a 
 point, when optimism could only be preserved after a 
 full recognition of the strength of pessimism. Never 
 again could the world be satisfied with any solution of 
 the problem of existence which did not explain evil, and 
 
3IO PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 in some way reconcile it with goodness. Such ar 
 explanation Augustine, at this time, was not preparec 
 to give ] and, therefore, in his aesthetic theory, as in hij 
 theological creed, he was content to assume the unitj 
 of God, while yet he maintained that ugliness and evi 
 were abstract opposites of beauty and goodness. Thai 
 both sides of the antithesis existed, and were essentia! 
 to the unity of the whole, he dimly saw, but so long aj 
 he absolutely opposed them, it was impossible logicallj; 
 to unite them in a consistent doctrine. 
 
 We have now to see how Augustine was led tc 
 discard Manichaeism. The first impulse to a more 
 adequate theory came from his study of the science oi 
 his day, and especially from the study of astronomy. 
 The immediate effect of this study, it is true, was 
 to lead him into the false path of the belief in 
 astrology ; but from this he was freed by what might 
 be called a crucial experiment. If astrology was 
 right, two persons born under precisely the same 
 planetary influences ought to have precisely the same 
 fate. Now, it so happened that a rhetorician called 
 Firminius and a slave were born under the same 
 conjunction of planets, their horoscopes having beer 
 carefully taken by two eminent astrologists. The one 
 became a rich rhetorician, the other was a poor slave 
 This fact seemed to Augustine to demonstrate the 
 absurdity of astrology. In rejecting the divinator} 
 elements of astrology, Augustine, however, retainec 
 what was permanent in it, and it was partly fron: 
 his intimate acquaintance with the astronomy of hh 
 day that he was able to see how flimsy were the 
 pretensions to universal truth of the renowned Faustus 
 the Manichaean apostle. From that moment his ardoui 
 for Manichaeism cooled, and we are not surprised tc 
 find that soon afterwards he came to the conclusior 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 311 
 
 that the only rational attitude is absolute doubt, man 
 being incapable of reaching ultimate truth. With a 
 purely negative doctrine, however, Augustine could 
 not long be satisfied : it was but a preparation for 
 the great crisis of his life, and his conversion to 
 Christianity. 
 
 The development of Augustine, so far, is of the 
 most instructive character. Beginning with a simple, 
 uncritical faith in what he had been taught, the con- 
 sciousness of evil impressed upon him by the experience 
 of his earlier years put him in the way to feel the 
 force of Cicero's apology for philosophy, though he 
 was unable to rest satisfied with it, because it seemed 
 to bear no relation to his early faith. When he came 
 to examine that faith, as held by the ordinary unreflec- 
 tive Christian, it repelled his intellect. It seemed to 
 him than Manichaeism was justified in its criticism of 
 the Old Testament, and that in attributing to two 
 antagonistic principles the antithetical phenomena of 
 good and evil, it at once explained the facts and pre- 
 served the majesty of God. Reverence for God was 
 always the deepest element in Augustine's faith. When 
 Manichaeism was found wanting, while yet Christianity 
 was still to him the mere survival of his youthful 
 training, there seemed to be no other conclusion than 
 that truth, the vision of which had appeared before 
 him when he read the praise of philosophy in Cicero, 
 was beyond the reach of man ; so that for some time 
 he had no positive faith, and wandered about in the 
 cheerless gloom of Academic Scepticism. It may be 
 noted that even in this seemingly negative attitude, 
 Augustine never lost his faith in the majesty of God. 
 As it began to come home to him that the individual 
 man may well be humbled, when he sees how little 
 the clearest intellect can penetrate the veil behind 
 
312 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 which God seems to hide Himself, it was natural 
 to conclude that truth was for God alone, and that 
 man must be contented with appearance. Nor is it 
 uninstructive to consider that the scepticism of Augus- 
 tine was really a dogmatism. I do not mean merely 
 that it was burdened with the fundamental contradiction 
 which besets all scepticism — the contradiction of claim- 
 ing to know that one knows nothing — but that it 
 exhibits the union in one person of a belief in the 
 existence and majesty of God, with the inconsistent 
 denial of the possibility of comprehending reality. But 
 Augustine was not one to rest in a mere blind belief 
 Though for the moment he had come to despair of the 
 power of man to reach truth by himself, his longing 
 after truth, or what to him was the same thing, his 
 longing after God, was unquenchable. Nothing short 
 of God could satisfy this " God-intoxicated " man. 
 This explains why, in his next phase, he was ready 
 to fall back upon the Church as a means of certifying 
 what the individual in his isolation was unable to 
 accomplish, and to listen to the teachings of Ambrose, 
 who was the main instrument in revealing to him a 
 form of Christianity that gave satisfaction at once to his 
 head and his heart. 
 
 Augustine, however, was not a facile convert. What 
 at first attracted him in Ambrose was, not the ideas, 
 but the captivating style of this master of pulpit 
 eloquence. But gradually, under the spell of the 
 refined Christian scholar, Augustine came to see that 
 the Christian faith, as held by men of " light and 
 leading," was very different from the simple creed of 
 his youth, and that it was not open to the charges 
 which the Manichaeans were wont to bring against it. 
 No more than they did Ambrose accept as ultimate 
 the anthropomorphic representation of God, which the 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 313 
 
 scriptures, literally interpreted, seemed to countenance. 
 For him the text of scripture had everywhere a 
 spiritual or mystical meaning. As he was fond of 
 quoting : " The letter killeth, but the spirit maketh 
 alive"; that is, the literal meaning of scripture destroys 
 faith, the allegorical establishes it. Thus the coarse 
 criticism of the Manichaeans — which was in its essence 
 identical with the later attacks of eighteenth century 
 Deists — was outflanked. Nor was this all, for 
 Ambrose, in every word he spoke, betrayed that sub- 
 lime conception of God as a spirit which was in sharp 
 contrast to the half-material conception of God as an 
 infinitely diffused light, which was characteristic of 
 Manichaeism. Here Augustine seemed to find an 
 answer to his deepest longings after a worthy con- 
 ception of God. He also learned from Ambrose that 
 the world, and especially man, was not the blind 
 result of two opposite forces, but the free creation of 
 God, and that man was not bound in the iron chains 
 of necessity, but was the free author of his acts. Thus 
 the very impulse which had induced Augustine to 
 accept Manichaeism — the inextinguishable conviction 
 of the perfection and goodness of God — now led him 
 to cast it aside. The idea of God as a spirit destroyed 
 the gross Manichaean conception of God as a vast 
 magniti^de, and the conception of the absolute unity of 
 God showed him that the dualism of the Manichaeans 
 was untenable. Ambrose, by removing the main stum- 
 bling-blocks in his way, had almost persuaded him to be 
 a Christian. There was also another element which 
 produced a strong impression on Augustine's mind. 
 Convinced as he was of the impotence of human reason 
 when left to itself, he was now disposed to fall back 
 on a higher authority. The Church, as it seemed to 
 him, had through Ambrose revealed to him truth, 
 
314 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 which do other system had attained. Why then should 
 he not admit that the Church is the medium of higher 
 truth? In all things we are dependent upon testimony: 
 why not upon the testimony of the Church, which is 
 the only guarantee to us of the nature of God ? If the 
 Church reveals to us a truth, which we cannot 
 discover for ourselves, are we not compelled to admit 
 that it is a divinely appointed instrument of God, by 
 which the means of salvation is revealed to man ? For 
 Augustine these solutions were as yet merely proble- 
 matic^ but he was strongly disposed to accept them. 
 
 We must, however, be careful not to overstate the 
 attitude of Augustine at this time. He was still very 
 far from that clear and organized system of truth, which 
 he afterwards developed. He had the greatest difficulty 
 in conceiving of God as pure spirit, and was in continual 
 danger of falling back upon the easier conception of 
 God as an infinitely extended substance. Nor could he 
 quite satisfy himself that man was truly free. If man 
 is free, what is the origin of evil in him ? Does it come 
 from matter ? Then, God is not all-powerful, since there 
 is in the world a principle which is foreign and even 
 hostile to Him. Does it proceed from an evil spirit 
 which acts upon man? But this only pushes the 
 difficulty further back. For, whence comes the evil 
 will of this spirit ? Does it proceed from God ? This 
 cannot be true, for God is good, and cannot be the 
 author of evil. Unable to solve these problems, 
 Augustine was thrown into despair. 
 
 The transition from this state of perturbation to 
 faith in Christianity was made through the medium of 
 Neoplatonism. To understand the influence which 
 Neoplatonism exercised on Augustine, we must have 
 before our minds a clear idea of its origin and its main 
 features. 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 315 
 
 In Neoplatonism we have at once the completion 
 and the euthanasia of Greek philosophy. It presents 
 the strange and instructive spectacle of philosophy 
 reluctantly abandoning its proper method, and falling 
 back upon immediate intuition. Greek philosophy, in 
 the first instance, was a revolt against the traditional 
 religion, with its anthropomorphism, its polytheism, and 
 its mythology. The first philosophers discarded the 
 personifications and figurate conceptions of the popular 
 religion, and fell back upon the idea of some single 
 principle which lay at the basis of all things. In Plato 
 and Aristotle the national religion was universalized, 
 and converted into a monotheism, in which the divine 
 was conceived as a pure intelligence, beyond the world, 
 self-conscious, and self-complete. The Stoics and Epi- 
 cureans, maintaining a dualistic ethics, and seeking only 
 to construct a system which should give satisfaction to 
 the individual, explained away the national religion by 
 means of allegory. From these systems arose Scepti- 
 cism, which brought to light the tacit assumption of the 
 two dogmatic schools, that the ultimate nature of the 
 world is beyond the reach of the human mind. It was 
 at this point that Neoplatonism came forward with its 
 doctrine of the inscrutable character of the Absolute, 
 and the necessity of a higher organ than reason for the 
 apprehension of the ultimately real. Despairing of 
 the human intellect in its normal exercise, it fell back 
 upon intuition, and could therefore only define the 
 Absolute as the super-rational. On the other hand, 
 Neoplatonism, in virtue of its descent, could not discard 
 reason without paying a tribute to its power. Reason 
 could not, it is true, bring man into the presence of the 
 absolutely real, but it could at least lift him above 
 the immediate and sensible, and prepare the way for 
 the higher faculty of intuition. But when distrust is 
 
3i6 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 cast upon reason, and it is held that man is unable to 
 comprehend the divine, what can the product of reason 
 be but more or less systematized fictions ? Hence the 
 later Neoplatonists fall back upon revelation, and this 
 revelation Neoplatonism, in accordance with its origin, 
 sought in the religious traditions of the various national 
 religions. Since Neoplatonism had learned from the 
 later Stoics to look beyond the limits of nations and 
 states, it found in all religions ideas which had been 
 inspired by God, and especially in those religions which 
 were oldest, and therefore, as was thought, nearest to 
 the divine. This explains why the Neoplatonists gave 
 special weight to the ancient oriental religions. Of 
 course they could not accept these religions with all 
 their confused and fantastic imagery, but by a judicious 
 use of the allegorical method they imported into them 
 a spiritual significance. This was the material which 
 the later Neoplatonists regarded as the basis of philo- 
 sophy. They sought to construct a philosophy which 
 should sum up all past philosophy, and at the same 
 time to develop a religion which should comprehend 
 within it all earlier religions. The Neoplatonic philo- 
 sophy, therefore, presupposes the religious syncretism of 
 the third century, and thus becomes a stage in the 
 history of religion. What was its precise influence on 
 Christianity is a difficult question, but there is no doubt 
 that it exercised a direct and powerful influence on 
 western theology, and, above all, on Augustine. In his 
 doctrine of God, matter, the relation of God to the 
 world, freedom, and evil, Augustine learned much from 
 Neoplatonism, though it is also true that he, more than 
 any other early theologian, made explicit the distinction 
 between Neoplatonism and Christianity. 
 
 The founder of the Neoplatonic school in Alex- 
 andria is supposed to have been Ammonius Saccas, 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 317 
 
 who died about the year 245 A.D. His great 
 disciple Plotinus (205-270) may, however, be regarded 
 as the real beginner of a systematic Neoplatonism. 
 Like the Gnostics and his fellow-Neoplatonists, 
 Plotinus sought to give an answer to two questions : 
 (i) How does the Absolute reveal itself? (2) How 
 does man apprehend the Absolute? In seeking to 
 answer the first question, he had recourse to the 
 prevalent view, that there is a series of emanations, 
 partaking partly of the nature of the infinite, partly of 
 the nature of the finite ; in attempting to answer the 
 second question, he falls back upon the idea of a divine 
 ecstasy or inspiration, in which man transcends all the 
 distinctions of thought, and at a single bound enters 
 into a mystical union with the Absolute. But while 
 Plotinus adopts the conceptions of emanation and 
 ecstasy, he seeks to avoid the extravagance and 
 caprice of the Gnostics by the introduction of order 
 and coherence into the series of emanations, and by a 
 gradual elevation of the human spirit from its immersion 
 in sense, through a perception of the order and beauty 
 of the world, to a comprehension of the pure forms of 
 existence by the intelligence, and finally to philosophical 
 ecstasy, which he tries to distinguish from pure imagi- 
 nation. As Philo held that Plato had borrowed his 
 doctrine of ideas from Moses, so Plotinus claimed, con- 
 versely, that the general agreement of his system with 
 Gnosticism is due to the fact that the east was indebted 
 to the west. 
 
 In his doctrine of emanation Plotinus borrows from 
 Plato and Aristotle the conception of three grades of 
 reality — the pure ideas or intelligible forms which 
 constitute the object of the intelligence, the world-soul 
 and the phenomenal world ; but he holds that beyond 
 the realm of ideas or intelligible forms is the absolute 
 
3i8 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 One, in which even the distinction of subject and object 
 is transcended, while beneath the phenomenal world is 
 the abstraction of matter or purely potential being. The 
 combination of these five elements — the absolute One, 
 the intelligible forms, the world-soul, the phenomenal 
 world and matter — constitutes the universe ; and these 
 grades of being are arranged in a descending series, 
 beginning with the absolute One and ending with 
 matter. In thus adapting Platonic and Aristotelian 
 conceptions to his doctrine of emanation, Plotinus has 
 transformed the elements which he borrows. For Plato 
 and Aristotle there was no reality higher than the intelli- 
 gible realities which constitute the essence of intelligence, 
 whereas Plotinus makes these merely an incomplete, 
 though true, revelation of the Absolute.-^ The only 
 ultimate reality, as Plotinus holds, is the Absolute — the 
 One as contrasted with the Many, the Infinite as opposed 
 to the Finite. As the source of all being, it is the 
 absolute cause, and the only true being ; but, since in 
 it the finite finds its end, it is also the good. We 
 cannot, however, predicate moral properties of the 
 Absolute, because all determination is limitation. The 
 absolute One is therefore without extension, life, or 
 thought, and even the predicate of being is inadequate, 
 — not because the Absolute is empty, but because no 
 finite predicate or sum of predicates can characterize it. 
 By its very nature it is absolutely pure, and has, there- 
 fore, no material substrate. We must rather define it 
 as pure energy. As such the Absolute necessarily 
 produces being distinct from itself in an eternal, timeless, 
 and necessary process, but without being itself in any 
 way affected, since there is in the Absolute itself no 
 
 ^ There are, however, tendencies towards the Mysticism of Plotinus in 
 Plato and Aristotle. See Caird's The Evolution of Theology in the Greek 
 Philosophers, II. 236 ff. 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 319 
 
 process. The origination of finite being is therefore an 
 emanation from the Absolute, of which it is an image or 
 mirror. The further it is from the original being the 
 less adequately it participates in the Absolute, just as 
 light diminishes in brilliancy the further it is from its 
 source. Thus the totality of being constitutes a 
 graduated series of concentric circles, ultimately 
 vanishing away in non-being ; which, however, is not 
 to be conceived as pure nothing, but as that being 
 in which the nature of the Absolute is at its lowest 
 degree of manifestation. Each stage of being is 
 connected with the higher, so that the lower partici- 
 pates in the Absolute only immediately through the 
 next higher. The whole realm of the finite, however, 
 longs and strives after the higher, so far as its nature 
 allows. 
 
 The first emanation from the Absolute is the 'Nov^j 
 which is a perfect image of the Absolute and the 
 prototype of all things. In it there is a complete 
 unity of being and thought, ideal world and idea. 
 As image the Now? is identical in nature with the 
 Absolute, as derivative it is entirely different. By 
 'Nov^ Plotinus means the highest sphere which the 
 human mind is capable of conceiving {koo-ixo's pofjrog) 
 and at the same time pure thought itself. What is 
 grasped by reason is in the Absolute ; it is not the 
 Absolute itself, but only the primal manifestation of 
 it. This manifestation, however, reason completely 
 comprehends. So far as " ideas " are causes of 
 events, they are called \6yoi. 
 
 The 'Novg is itself unchangeable, but it throws out 
 an image of itself, namely, the world-soul, which, like 
 the 'Novg, is an immaterial substance. It is related 
 to the Nov? as the latter is related to the Absolute. 
 Its illumination it derives from the No??, which 
 
320 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 entirely interpenetrates it, but it is itself in contact 
 with the phenomenal world. The world-soul is 
 capable of preserving its unity in the Noyp, but it 
 may also unite with the corporeal world and thus 
 be divided into parts. In its essence it constitutes 
 the one single soul — the world-soul — but in this 
 single soul are many individual souls, which may 
 either permit themselves to be ruled by the No?tf or 
 may lose themselves in the finite. 
 
 The soul, which is in its nature changeable, pro- 
 duces the corporeal or phenomenal world. When at 
 its best it reduces the many to harmony. Plotinus 
 celebrates the beauty and glory of the world, and 
 in this respect he differs from the Christian Gnostics 
 who regarded the phenomenal world as evil. When 
 the idea subdues matter to itself, when soul rules 
 over body, the world is beautiful and good. It is 
 a shadowy image of the upper world, and the various 
 degrees of better and worse are necessary to the 
 perfect harmony of the whole. In point of fact, 
 however, the phenomenal world exhibits a strife of 
 opposites. The result is a conflict in which there is 
 a perpetual coming to be and ceasing to be. The 
 explanation of this conflict is that there is in bodies 
 a material substrate. Matter is the indeterminate, 
 that which is destitute of all quality, the jmh ov. As 
 devoid of form and idea, it is evil ; as capable of 
 form, it occupies an intermediate position. 
 
 The process of spiritual life consists in a gradual 
 ascent to God in an order the inverse of that by 
 which the Absolute has revealed itself in the series 
 of emanations. The human souls which have de- 
 scended into bodies are involved in the sensible, and 
 are the victims of desire, which causes them to seek 
 for liberation from true being. But they are capable 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 321 
 
 of returning to the higher life, for their freedom is 
 inextinguishable. The soul must therefore, to attain 
 its true being, ascend to the source from which it 
 came. In this return consists virtue, which is the 
 effort after God and leads to God. Plotinus in his 
 ethical theory appropriates, and arranges in a graduated 
 series, all the older systems of morality. Lowest of 
 all are the virtues of the ordinary citizen ; then come 
 the purifying virtues, and lastly the divine virtues 
 The virtues of the citizen merely adorn life without 
 elevating the soul. The purifying virtues, on the 
 other hand, free the soul from the sensible and bring 
 it back to itself, and thus to the No??. By this 
 elevation man again becomes a spiritual and moral 
 being, and is liberated from all sin. But a still 
 higher stage has to be reached, which shall not only 
 elevate the soul above sin, but in which it shall be 
 merged in God. This takes place by the intuition 
 of the Absolute, that is, by ecstatic elevation to 
 God. Thought does not reach to this elevation, for 
 thought attains only to the Nov?, and is itself a 
 process. Thought is but a preparation for union 
 with God. The soul can know and come in contact 
 with the Absolute only in the state of perfect rest 
 and passivity. Hence, in order to attain to the 
 higher, it must be subjected to a spiritual process. 
 It has to begin with the contemplation of corporeal 
 things, their multiplicity and their harmony; it then 
 returns into itself, and retires into the depths of its 
 own nature ; from whence it ascends to the Noi/?, to 
 the world of ideas. There, however, it does not find 
 the One and highest ; a voice still calls to it : " Not 
 we have made ourselves." Hence it must plunge 
 into the deepest depths, where all remembrance - of 
 things is lost. Then it perceives God — the source 
 
322 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 of life, the principle of being, the cause of all good- 
 ness, the root of souls. At this moment it enjoys 
 the highest and most indescribable felicity : it is as 
 it were absorbed in God, lost in the light of 
 Eternity. 
 
 The religious philosophy of Plotinus was of an 
 abstract character and independent of the national 
 religions. In accommodation to the popular con- 
 sciousness, however, he represented the 'Nov^, which 
 emanated from the Original Being, as so to speak a 
 second God, and the Xoyoi contained in it as if 
 they were gods. Plotinus also gave a new form to 
 the myths, and defended magic, prophecy and prayer. 
 Compared with later Neoplatonists, he is free from 
 superstition and fanaticism, nor did he favour the 
 restoration of the ancient worship of the gods. 
 Among his disciples were Aurelius and Porphyry. 
 Aurelius is probably the writer who had the most 
 direct influence on Augustine. He modified the 
 doctrine of Plotinus in some points, and endeavoured 
 to show that the prologue to the Gospel of John was 
 in harmony with the Neoplatonic philosophy. Por- 
 phyry was not an original thinker, but rather an 
 industrious and careful investigator, with a considerable 
 gift for historical criticism. The fact that a man of 
 this type devoted himself entirely to the defence of 
 the philosophy of Plotinus and of polytheistic mysti- 
 cism shows how strongly the current of the age ran 
 in the direction of religious mysticism. For Porphyry 
 the end of philosophy is the salvation of the soul. 
 Evil has its origin, not in the body, but in the desires 
 of the soul. Hence Porphyry demands the strictest 
 self-restraint, along with the knowledge of God. 
 While he protested strongly against the crude popular 
 faith, he had no desire to destroy the national religions. 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 323 
 
 His polemical work against the Christians was not 
 directed against Christ, but against Catholic Chris- 
 tianity, and the sacred books accepted by the Christians 
 of his age, which Porphyry believed to be written 
 by men who were either deceivers or grossly ignorant. 
 The transition from Porphyry to a Neoplatonism 
 of a lower type was made by Jamblichus, who 
 endeavoured to justify all the ancient cults by means 
 of philosophy. We may explain this phase of Neo- 
 platonism by the fact that the philosophy of Plotinus 
 was too abstract to appeal to the popular mind. In 
 one or two points Jamblichus made an advance, e.g. 
 in the idea that evil has its seat in the will, a point 
 which is strongly emphasized by Augustine. Jam- 
 blichus also insisted strongly upon the divine character 
 of the human soul, as taught by Plotinus.^ 
 
 What specially attracted Augustine to Neoplatonism 
 was its spiritual conception of God, its doctrine of the 
 A0709, particularly as connected by Aurelius with the 
 Ao-yos- of the Fourth Gospel, its high conception of 
 the human soul, and its apparent reconciliation of evil 
 with the perfection of God. Until he came under 
 the influence of Ambrose and Neoplatonism, Augus- 
 tine had not been able to free himself from the 
 Manichaean conception of God as an infinitely extended 
 light. Neoplatonism taught him to conceive of the 
 universe in an entirely different way. The true nature 
 of things, as he now learned, is to be found, not in 
 the material parts of which they are composed, but in 
 the form or inner order which they display. Apart 
 from this form, we can have no knowledge of the 
 real nature of body, and without it body could not 
 exist. It is mind, however, by which the form of 
 
 ^With the account of Neoplatonism here given, cf. Harnack, Lehrbuck 
 der Dogmengeschichte, i. 774 ff. 
 
324 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 things is discerned. The mind finds within itself the 
 conception of perfect forms, which are suggested by 
 the visible appearance of things. Thus the mind sees 
 in external things merely an imperfect copy of the 
 true realities or forms, which it finds within itself 
 These intelligible realities, however, have no indepen- 
 dent existence. There must be an ultimate principle 
 which is the best of all existences — a supreme beauty, 
 truth, and goodness — a sovereign unity, which has 
 ordained all order, beauty, and goodness ; in a word, 
 God. It is therefore utterly unworthy of God to 
 represent Him as an infinitely extended magnitude : 
 His nature is absolutely incorporeal ; He is the intelli- 
 gible sun of the upper world, which He contains within 
 Himself, and He is present in visible objects, not 
 spacially, but spiritually ; that is, in the order, beauty, 
 and truth found in them. 
 
 When he had obtained a glimpse of this spiritual 
 idea of God and the world, Augustine was filled with 
 delight. Now, for the first time, he felt as if he 
 possessed something like a worthy conception of things. 
 Nor was this all, for Neoplatonism seemed to supply 
 a real solution of the problem of evil, whereas Mani- 
 chaeism did little more than state the problem without 
 solving it. To maintain that there are two eternal 
 principles, which cannot in any way be reduced to one, 
 was inconsistent with the unity of God, which was now 
 so clear to him. But, if God is One and Infinite, 
 how are we to explain the existence of evil ? As it 
 now seemed to Augustine, Neoplatonism gave a rational 
 solution of the difficulty. If the true nature of a thing 
 consists in its form, not in the matter of which it is 
 composed, we must seek for the explanation of evil, 
 not in matter, but in form. Now, the form of a 
 thing is the orderly mode in which it exists. A thing 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 325 
 
 is said to be good solely because it has a particular 
 form, which is appropriate to it. Every substance is, 
 therefore, good in so far as it is capable of existing ; 
 for nothing can exist which does not in some way 
 realize its own essence. There are, however, degrees 
 of goodness. The only being, who can in an absolute 
 sense be said to exist, is God, for God alone is self- 
 existent. All created things have in them an element 
 of negation, and therefore their being can only be 
 partial and relative ; so that it is impossible for 
 them to be perfectly good. The innumerable beings 
 which compose the universe form an immense hierarchy. 
 Those which participate more fully in being are better, 
 those which participate less fully in being are worse, 
 so that the degree of goodness in each thing is exactly 
 determined by its degree of existence. Nevertheless, 
 all things are good. They have the same degree of 
 goodness as of being, that is, of form. It follows that 
 there is no absolute evil : when we call anything evil 
 without limitation, we are employing a term which 
 marks the limited point of view of those who forget 
 that nothing can be good in an absolute sense but 
 God. And when we view all things in relation to 
 the whole for which they have been made, we see that 
 the universe in its totality is perfectly good, and reveals 
 the wisdom of the supreme Good. 
 
 By the same principle we can explain what is called 
 moral evil. In a being endowed with free-will, evil 
 consists in turning away from God, the absolute being 
 and the absolute good, and from the intelligible 
 realities which reside in God ; that is, in turning 
 towards lower things, towards sensible and external 
 realities, which have less being and less good. On the 
 other hand, in turning towards higher things, the soul 
 obtains more being and good. He who sins has less 
 
326 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 being, and, in the suffering which follows the com- 
 mission of sin, he becomes aware of a power which 
 determines the order of the world. In whatever way, 
 therefore, we contemplate evil, we see that the sup- 
 posed opposition between divine providence and the 
 power of evil disappears. Evil is not in contradiction 
 with God, because evil has no positive or substantial 
 existence, but is purely negative. All that is sub- 
 stantial or positive is good, and hence philosophy 
 reveals to us no flaw in the constitution of the 
 universe. 
 
 Neoplatonism thus seemed to solve the problem by 
 which Augustine had for so long been disturbed. But 
 with the satisfaction of his intellect, he had not, as he 
 tells us, found a way of escape from the passions to 
 which he was still a slave. He therefore made a dili- 
 gent study of the Scriptures, and in particular of the 
 Epistles of St. Paul, expecting to find in them all 
 the doctrines which he had already learned from the 
 Neoplatonists. In reality he found much more : he 
 there discovered, not only the same high conception 
 of God, but a way by which his heart and his will 
 might be turned to God. Neoplatonism had pointed 
 out the goal, but it had not supplied the means of 
 reaching it. " It is one thing," says Augustine, " to 
 see the land of peace from the wooded top of a moun- 
 tain, and another thing to enter upon the path that 
 leads to it" (Conf vii. 21). What Augustine here 
 especially had in his mind, if we may judge from his 
 later thoughts, is the doctrine of the Incarnation. Neo- 
 platonism had taught him the existence of a purely 
 spiritual God, who governs the world by His wisdom, 
 but it had not shown him the inner nature of God ; on 
 the contrary, it denied that God can be known as He 
 is. In the Scriptures, on the other hand, he believed 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 327 
 
 that he found clearly proclaimed under the name of the 
 Word, the only begotten Son of God, what the inner 
 nature of God was. God had in Jesus Christ revealed 
 Himself as Love, as taking upon Himself the nature of 
 man, suffering and dying for us, and in the contempla- 
 tion of this infinite goodness he found the force necessary 
 to triumph over his evil passions. 
 
 The account just given of Augustine's transition from 
 Neoplatonism to Christianity may be stated more pre- 
 cisely as follows. When Augustine had learned from 
 Neoplatonism that God is Spirit, he sought to find a 
 way to God by an analysis of his own inner experience. 
 The hint of this " new way of ideas " he obtained from 
 Neoplatonism, but his mode of carrying out the hint 
 was all his own. Granting, he says, as Descartes after- 
 wards did, that external experience gives no firm basis 
 for truth, at least we cannot doubt our own inner 
 experience. It may be true that evil has no objective 
 reality, but at least the fear of evil is a real experience, 
 and therefore is for us an evil. So the object of faith 
 is nothing visible, but faith itself is a direct object of 
 consciousness. Let us, therefore, see if the knowledge 
 of ourselves does not lead to the knowledge of God. 
 It is for this reason that Augustine was so unwearied 
 in his observation of inner experience ; this, as it 
 seemed to him, was the most hopeful method of 
 arriving at a better knowledge of God. Examining 
 his own soul, he found that, like all other beings, man 
 is ever seeking to complete his being. All the desires 
 are modes of this primary desire. These desires give 
 content to the will, and yet the will stands above them 
 as a power higher than the sensible. It is only, how- 
 ever, when the will wills what is good that it is really 
 free, because only in willing the good can true being be 
 realized. 
 
328 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 Man, then, is ever striving after true being. But 
 wherein does true being consist? Neoplatonism had 
 led Augustine up to the supreme unchangeable per- 
 manent Being. But if this is the only true being, all 
 else, including the human soul, must in itself be non- 
 being ; and so far as it has a relative being, it is the 
 product of the one divine Being. As proceeding from 
 God, the universe is a harmonious whole, expressing 
 the beauty of its original ; but God Himself is the One 
 truly beautiful. In itself the universe is nothing : it is 
 at best but the image of the infinite fulness of the one 
 only Being. This mystical conception of the universe 
 Augustine never quite transcended, though it is perpetu- 
 ally crossed by the different conception of God as self- 
 revealing, and though he goes on to add elements 
 inconsistent with it. From his psychological analysis 
 he had learned that men are ever striving after true 
 being : they hunger and thirst after God ; for the soul, 
 so far as it has being, is ex deo and ad deum. But 
 now he made the appalling discovery, that the will does 
 not will what it seems to will. This is the terrible 
 paradox of the moral life : we will and yet we will not. 
 
 From the dreadful burden of moral responsibility for 
 sin, and the consciousness of the impotence to will the 
 good, arises the idea of God as the good, and of selfish 
 desire as evil. Thus the summum bonwm receives the 
 deeper sense of the moral imperative. At the same 
 time Augustine made the experience that this good 
 which took hold of him was Love. Now he was freed 
 from the monstrous contradiction which had brought 
 him to despair. Now he came to conceive of God as 
 omnipotent goodness : the highest being is the good 
 acting on the will as omnipotent love. The highest 
 being is the highest good as a Person. Evil is still 
 conceived as negation, but now it is privation of good, 
 
AUGUSTINE'S PHASES OF FAITH 329 
 
 not privation of being. " Nothing is good but a good 
 will " : this proposition is connected by Augustine in 
 the closest way with the proposition, '* Nothing is good 
 but God " ; and the one is mediated with the other by 
 the idea of Love. God, as the source of all being, is 
 also the sole author, and the sole source, of good in the 
 form of self-communicating Love. Man, as a creature, 
 is only in so far as he surrenders himself, lives only by 
 dying, is free only as he wills God. 
 
LECTURE THIRTEENTH. 
 
 AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY. 
 
 The sketch of Augustine's spiritual development given 
 in last lecture has prepared the way for an understand- 
 ing of his theology, to a consideration of which the 
 present lecture will be devoted. When we consider 
 the manifold elements which went to the making of 
 Augustine's theology, we cannot be surprised that he 
 does not succeed in constructing a perfectly sym- 
 metrical system. He is in many respects a pioneer, 
 and not less so because he imagines that he is simply 
 appropriating the creed of the Church. In what has 
 yet to be said I shall try to indicate the various elements 
 that go to form the massive and imposing body of 
 doctrine, which he left as a legacy to posterity. I 
 shall, therefore, give a short statement of the main 
 doctrines of Augustine, pointing out incidentally what 
 he owed to Neoplatonism, and attempting to estimate 
 how far his theology is an attempt to combine incon- 
 sistent principles. That Augustine was the first to 
 give Catholic Christianity a definitely Neoplatonic 
 colouring is beyond question, though it is no doubt 
 true that Ambrose had already prepared the way. 
 This in itself, however, is no ground for rejecting the 
 Augustinian system. It is part of the strength of 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 331 
 
 Christianity that it has been able to assimilate what- 
 ever is in harmony with its fundamental intuitions, and 
 those who imagine that a system of doctrine is con- 
 demned because it can be shown to have absorbed 
 elements apparently foreign to it, seem to me to have 
 a very imperfect idea of the true relation of primitive 
 Christianity to its own history. It is just because it has 
 had the power of assimilating such various and at first 
 sight contradictory elements, that Christianity has had 
 so potent an influence on the world. Its antagonists 
 had to die that it might live, but their death was rather 
 a sublimation of what they were feeling after than mere 
 annihilation. The question then is, not whether Augus- 
 tine's theology was influenced by Neoplatonism — for this 
 is beyond the reach of doubt — but whether by its aid 
 he succeeded in constructing a perfectly satisfactory 
 system. 
 
 The account which has been given of Augustine's 
 development makes it evident that there were two 
 main ideas with which he was continually occupied-^- 
 God and sin. The idea of God is the centre around 
 which all his thoughts revolve. What he seeks to 
 discover is, how man may come into union with God ; 
 God is for him One and All ; and in the contemplation 
 of God he finds the highest blessedness. As we have 
 seen, it was in his desire to preserve the majesty of 
 God that he became a Manichaean ; and for the same 
 reason he abandoned Manichaeism, when he was con- 
 vinced that it was dishonouring to God, and adopted 
 the Neoplatonic conception of the absolutely spiritual 
 nature of God. In his psychological investigations 
 also the same motive was at work, for he was interested 
 in psychology mainly because he accepted the Neo- 
 platonic view that we can know God only by knowing 
 ourselves. 
 
332 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 By his study of Scripture Augustine was led to see^ 
 that, while Neoplatonism had a high conception of the 
 nature of God, it failed to grasp the fundamental truth 
 that God is essentially self-manifesting. Neoplatonism, 
 it is true, maintained that God manifests Himself in 
 the Word, which it also calls the Son of God ; but the 
 Word is viewed as merely an emanation from God, not 
 as a complete manifestation of his inner being, which 
 remains absolutely unrevealed. Now, Augustine be- 
 lieved that, in His Son, God had completely revealed 
 His own nature, and that from the Father and the Son 
 proceeded the Holy Spirit, which was also identical 
 in nature with both. This truth he found expressed 
 in the doctrine of the Church, that there is one God in 
 three Persons. Augustine is well aware that in speaking 
 of three Persons there is a danger of denying the unity 
 of God, and yet he insists that we must maintain at 
 once the unity and the distinction. We might, he 
 says, express the doctrine, in the language of the 
 Greek fathers, by saying that in God there is one 
 " essence " {ova-la), three " substances " (yiroarTaa-ei^) ; 
 but, as the Latin tongue uses the terms " essence " and 
 " substance " synonymously, this would involve the 
 contradiction of saying that in God there is one 
 " substance " or " essence," which is also " three sub- 
 stances " or " essences." Now, God cannot be one in 
 the same sense in which He is three ; it is therefore 
 better to say that God is one " substance " in three 
 " persons." We must, however, be careful to avoid the 
 doctrine that the three " persons " are three separate 
 individuals, each of which can be called God ; for this 
 would either imply that there are three Gods, or, if we 
 make the " substance " a separate existence, that there 
 are four Gods. If then there is but one God, and 
 we yet distinguish the three persons, the distinction 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 333 
 
 can only consist in the function which is assigned to 
 each of the three persons. God is completely present 
 in each of the persons, but present in a different way. 
 The Father begets the Son, the Son is begotten by the 
 Father, the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the 
 Son. In order to make this doctrine more intelligible, 
 Augustine argues that, as the world and especially man 
 is the image of God, we may learn in a measure the 
 nature of God by discovering the nature of the world, 
 and above all the nature of man. Now, the mind of 
 man is in its essence one, and yet this unity is 
 manifested in three different, though not separate 
 functions — memory, intelligence and will. In memory 
 the mind retains what is, in intelligence it understands 
 what it retains, and without will there could be neither 
 memory nor intelligence. While, therefore, we dis- 
 tinguish these three modes of activity of the mind, we 
 must also observe that in each of them the whole mind 
 is active. It would be a confusion between the finite 
 and infinite to transfer these distinctions unchanged to 
 God, for man is neither co-eternal nor consubstantial 
 with God, but, since the mind of man is made in the 
 image of God, we are entitled to say that the unity-in- 
 distinction which we find in our own self-consciousness 
 is an analogue of the unity in three persons of God. 
 It is true that we cannot entirely comprehend the 
 nature of God, but we may surely say that God the 
 Father expresses the self-existence of God, God 
 the Son His self-knowledge or wisdom, God the 
 Holy Spirit His self-satisfaction or love. Father, Son 
 and Spirit are different forms of the same essence, and 
 these different forms are different functions of the three 
 persons, the total divine self-consciousness consisting in 
 the circle of these three functions. The function of each 
 Person, therefore, consists in this, that it contributes 
 
334 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 to the production of the divine self-consciousness. 
 But these three functions do not destroy the unity 
 of the one divine essence. The Father is the whole 
 essence under the form of memory, the Son the 
 whole essence under the form of wisdom, the Spirit 
 the whole essence under the form of love.^ 
 
 The distinction of persons in God therefore means 
 for Augustine the distinction of the different functions 
 which are essential to the divine self-consciousness. 
 Wherein, then, consists the essence of God ? Since in 
 this essence God is absolutely single, His being, good- 
 ness and wisdom are identical. Augustine does not 
 mean that in God there is no distinction of attributes, 
 but that in Him they are so inseparably united that 
 we cannot possibly think the one without thinking the 
 other. We know God rather through direct vision or 
 contemplation than by discursive thought, for in 
 discursive thought we pass from one attribute to the 
 other. Augustine is, therefore, seeking at once to 
 preserve the distinction of attributes and to combine 
 them into unity. There can be no separation of 
 attributes in God, because, if there were, they would 
 fall outside of the divine essence, and would therefore 
 be contingent For Augustine the absoluteness of 
 God is bound up with His perfect simplicity ; or, 
 what for him is the same thing, with the insepara- 
 bility of his attributes.^ 
 
 The reason why Augustine insists so emphatifally 
 upon the unity of God is intelligible, when we 
 remember what his development had been. After his 
 liberation from Manichaeism, what he was most 
 interested in was, not the distinction of the three 
 
 ^ De Trinitate, v. 9-10; vi. 6, 8, ii ; xi. 1-3; xii. 20. De Anima, 
 ii. 3. De Civitate Dei^ xi. 26. Confessiones^ xiii. 11. 
 '^Sermo. lii, 8-10. 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 335 
 
 persons in the Trinity, but the indivisible unity of 
 the divine essence. Hence, when he came to state 
 his doctrine of the Trinity, he naturally emphasized 
 the unity of God, rather than the distinction of 
 persons. Accordingly, in his doctrine of the persons, 
 he maintains that the three Persons are equal forms 
 or modes of being, so that the second and third 
 persons are in no sense subordinated to the first. 
 We have here in fact the logical completion of the 
 Trinitarian doctrine, and as we may also say, the 
 first consistent attempt to formulate the Christian 
 conception of a self-conscious, self-determining and 
 self-revealing God. But, while in the doctrine of 
 the equality of the three Persons, Augustine has 
 made a distinct advance, it cannot be denied that, 
 in his eagerness to preserve the unity of the divine 
 nature, he tends to represent the essence of God as 
 if it were distinct from the Persons, or at least to 
 accentuate the simplicity at the expense of the 
 distinction of the divine nature. The problem there- 
 fore remains, to explain how this simple essence is 
 related to the three Persons. The solution indeed 
 is impossible, so long as we hold by the absolute 
 simplicity of the divine essence. Obviously, the one 
 conception by which a reconciliation can be effected 
 is to grasp the idea, that the only true unity is one 
 which involves distinction within itself There was 
 therefore in Augustine's doctrine the danger of falling 
 back upon the distinctionless unity of the divine 
 nature, and regarding the distinction of the Persons 
 as merely subjective. Here in fact, as I think, we 
 have in Augustine's doctrine a clear instance of the 
 power of Neoplatonism over him. He is prevented, 
 by his perception of the importance of holding fast 
 by the idea of God as self-manifesting, from admitting 
 
33^ PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 that God is indefinable, but he is unable to 
 reconcile his doctrine of the three Persons with the 
 conception, taken from Neoplatonism, of the absolute 
 simplicity of the divine nature. 
 
 We have seen what is Augustine's conception of 
 the divine essence and the Persons of the Trinity ; 
 we have now to see how he conceives of the relation 
 of God to the world. The world has been created 
 according to a divine plan : in what form, then, did 
 this plan exist in the divine mind ? " There is only 
 one wisdom," says Augustine {De civ. xi. lo), "in 
 which are infinite treasures of intelligible things, and 
 in these intelligible things are all the invisible and 
 unchangeable reasons of the things that are visible 
 and changeable." In this passage Augustine seems 
 to say that the objects of the divine wisdom are the 
 forms or ideas, which contain the unchangeable 
 grounds of all things. It would thus seem that he 
 distinguishes between the divine intelligence and the 
 ideal realities which it contemplates. Such a separa- 
 tion, however, was for Augustine impossible. The 
 only ideas which he can admit are the divine attri- 
 butes, which have no independent existence, but 
 constitute the very nature of God. From this point 
 of view it would seem that the object of God can 
 only be God's own nature. God's knowledge of 
 Himself would thus seem to exclude any knowledge 
 of the world. On the other hand, Augustine draws 
 a distinction between God's knowledge of Himself 
 and His knowledge of the world, and maintains in 
 the strongest way the distinction of God from the 
 world. The knowledge of the world is not merely 
 the knowledge of its eternal universal laws, but also 
 of what takes place in it God contemplates all 
 things at a glance, so that what for us appears in 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 337 
 
 time is for Him timeless. There are thus two com- 
 peting conceptions in Augustine. On the one hand, 
 he tends to identify the eternal purpose of God with 
 the divine essence, and, on the other hand, he seeks 
 to distinguish this purpose from God's knowledge of 
 Himself If we take the former view, we seem to 
 fall into an abstract unity in which all the finite 
 and temporal disappears ; if we take the latter view, 
 it is hard to see how the unity of the divine nature 
 is to be preserved. Nor is the difficulty lessened, if 
 we look at the question from the side of the will. 
 Whatever God knows. He must also will, for in Him 
 knowledge and will are identical. Now, Augustine 
 cannot admit that God has willed evil. He permits 
 but does not will it. There must, therefore, be a 
 distinction between God's knowledge and His will ; 
 for God knows all things — evil as well as good — 
 whereas there is a distinction in His will, since He 
 does not will evil, but only permits it. But if this 
 is so, God's will cannot be identical with His know- 
 ledge, and therefore His essence is not absolutely 
 simple. We must, therefore, either surrender the 
 divine simplicity, or deny that the world has an 
 existence independent of God. 
 
 Granting that there exists in the divine mind a 
 knowledge of the world that is to be, Augustine's 
 next problem is to explain how the world can 
 come into being, consistently with the absolute 
 completeness of God apart from the world. On 
 the one hand, the origination of the world cannot 
 add to the sum of being, and, on the other hand, 
 the world cannot be identified with God. Augustine's 
 answer to this problem is his doctrine of Creation. 
 To obviate the difficulty that the origination of the 
 world adds to the completeness of God, he maintains, 
 
338 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 with the Neoplatonists, that the existence of finite 
 things does not in any way add to the sum of being ; 
 for a thing is finite, not in virtue of what it is, but 
 because of what it is not. Whatever is finite has 
 in it an element of negation, and it is because of 
 this element that it is subject to change. The un- 
 changeability of God is bound up with the absolute 
 completeness of His being, for that which is absolutely 
 complete cannot have more or less being, and there- 
 fore cannot change. The obvious difficulty in this 
 view is that the finite, as finite, has no reality 
 whatever; so that the reality of the world would 
 seem to be merely apparent, the only reality being 
 that of God. This, however, was a conclusion which 
 Augustine could not accept ; and therefore he seeks 
 to show that the world is dependent upon God 
 for the limited reality it possesses, while yet it is 
 distinct from God. The world is the free creation 
 of the divine will. Augustine is neither prepared to 
 deny, nor to admit, the Platonic doctrine of a 
 world-soul : but he is perfectly clear that if there 
 is a world-soul, it has been made by God. That the 
 heavens and the earth have been created, is manifest 
 from the fact that they are subject to change ; for 
 only that which is absolutely unchangeable is self- 
 existent. When we speak of Creation, we must be 
 careful to observe that God did not, like a human 
 artificer, fashion the world out of a pre-existent matter: 
 He created it out of nothing. Before the world came 
 into being, there was absolutely no being but God 
 Himself, and therefore nothing out of which it could 
 be made. God is not the Architect of the world, 
 but its Creator. Granting that the world was made 
 from a formless or invisible matter, yet this matter 
 must itself have been made by God from nothing. 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 339 
 
 This is, indeed, demanded by the omnipotence of God. 
 Nor can we suppose that formless matter was created 
 prior to the formed world, but matter and form were 
 created at once. And, though the world is not 
 coeternal with God, we must not suppose that the 
 Word by which it was created implied any change 
 in the divine mind, for the creation of the world 
 was already involved in the eternal purpose of God. 
 " In the Word of God there existed the eternal reasons 
 of all things, even of those which have been made 
 temporally." To ask why God willed the creation 
 of the world, is to ask for the cause of that which 
 is its own cause : the will of God is the cause, and 
 to ask for something beyond that will is to ask for 
 something greater than God's will, i.e. for something 
 greater than that which is the source of all greatness. 
 The world has not been created from all eternity, 
 but we cannot say that there was any succession in 
 the divine will ; for time is not applicable to the divine 
 willj but only to things that are finite and changeable.^ 
 This brings us to Augustine's doctrine of time, by 
 means of which he seeks to solve the difficulty as to 
 how there can be an eternal creation of a temporal 
 world. Time, as he maintains, has no meaning apart 
 from change, and therefore it is not in God, but 
 only in the world. Change, however, follows from 
 the combination of negation with the divina operatio. 
 The ground of change, and therefore of time, lies in 
 things, not in God : for God is by His nature absolutely 
 unchangeable, and therefore not in Time. God is 
 related to the world as its cause, but we cannot say 
 that He exists prior to the world : He is prior to it 
 
 '^Retract, i. n ; Conf, x. 3, 5 ; De Fide et Symbolo^ i. 2; Dg Genesi ad 
 Litteramj iv. 6 ; £>e Diversis QuaesHonibus, Ixxxiii., guaest, xxviii. ; 
 De Civ.\Deif xi. 4. 
 
340 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 logically not temporally. God does not act at one 
 time, nor at another : His power or activity is 
 absolutely unchangeable : what produces change is 
 the negative element implied in all finite things.^ 
 
 The relation of God to space is of peculiar interest, 
 because it involves a consideration of the corporeal 
 world. Space has no meaning except in relation to 
 body. Augustine does not accept the view of Origen, 
 that earthly bodies are the consequence of sin. There 
 is nothing evil in body as such ; for, as Augustine 
 holds, in common with the Neoplatonists, the existence 
 of the body does not destroy the harmony of the 
 world. What distinguishes bodies is that, in the series 
 of created things, they are most affected by negation ; 
 in other words, they have less being than mind. 
 Accordingly, the imagination of body in the soul has 
 more reality than body itself. It of course follows that 
 God is inextended and entirely beyond space.^ 
 
 It is not possible for Augustine to draw an absolute 
 distinction between the creation and the preservation, of 
 the world. We cannot say that there is any rest in 
 the divine activity. The form of the divine activity 
 has never changed, and therefore there can be no break 
 in it.3 
 
 The providence of God is held by Augustine to 
 extend to all things. But we find in him two different 
 views. On the one hand, he maintains that God has 
 made everything according to His wisdom ; in other 
 words, that whatever is positive in things is due to the 
 divina operatio. On the other hand, he holds that 
 creatures act on one another, and thus produce 
 manifold changes. From this point of view, he regards 
 providence as the ground of the order or harmony in 
 
 ^ De Civ. xi. 6 ; De Gen. v. 5. ^ q^^j^ ^i. 23 ; xii. 5. 
 
 ^De Gen. iv. 12 ; v. 20. 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 34i 
 
 things. The whole universe is an orderly system, 
 which may be compared to a beautiful poem. Thus 
 God seems rather to act through the medium of His 
 creatures, while He himself remains unchangeable. 
 Providence is nothing but the eternal plan of the 
 world, according to which all is ordered as it is realized 
 in the world. The divine plan realizes itself by means 
 of the creatures which are subject to it, whose essence 
 and being belong to the immutabilis operatio divina, but 
 whose differences and development are due to negation.^ 
 We must now direct particular attention to the 
 Augustinian view of the relation of man to God. The 
 main interest of Augustine in this question arises from 
 its connection with the problem of moral evil. When 
 Augustine abandoned Manichaeism, he could no longer 
 admit that anything is by nature evil. Since all things 
 proceed from God, while yet negation attaches to every 
 finite being, he denies that anything is in itself evil. 
 Hence Adam, when he proceeded from the hand of 
 God, had nothing evil in his nature. Nor could 
 Augustine accept the doctrine of Pelagius, that man is 
 endowed with an absolute capacity of free choice, his 
 will having no bias either to good or to evil, and that 
 no exercise of will in any way affects this freedom. 
 Man's true freedom consists in obedience to God. The 
 first , man was, therefore, not in a state of indifference 
 to good and evil ; on the contrary his will was directed 
 to good, and his intelligence showed him that his good 
 consisted In obedience to God. But, if man's will was 
 originally good, how are we to explain the origin of 
 sin ? Augustine's answer is that man's will was not so 
 absolutely directed to good that he was unable to sin. 
 What led him to adopt this view was the necessity of 
 explaining the origin of sin without attributing it to 
 
 ^ Conf. iii. \\\ De Or dine, i. lo. 
 
342 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 God. Adam, by the help of God, could have willed to 
 obey, but he had also the power of refusing the help 
 of God, and in this refusal consisted his sin. Augustine, 
 therefore, limits man's freedom of choice as far as 
 possible. The freedom of Adam consisted in his power 
 to will the acceptance of divine aid. The enormity of 
 Adam's sin arose from the fact that he refused this aid, 
 notwithstanding his good will and his clear intelligence. 
 The metaphysical justification of this theory lies in 
 Augustine's Neoplatonic doctrine, that all independence 
 of the creature, as opposed to God, is based on negation. 
 The positive power of self-maintenance comes from 
 God, but what is characteristic of the individual as such 
 is made possible only by the element of negation 
 implied in his finitude, and this cannot be ascribed to 
 the divina operatio. The free-will of man, however, 
 distinguishes him from other creatures ; for, while they 
 maintain themselves by necessity in accordance with 
 the divine plan, man by his free-will is not under 
 necessity to conform to it. The possibility of self^ 
 determination is therefore limited to the sphere within 
 which the negative element operates. All that is 
 positive comes from God, and man can only will to 
 accept the aid of God ; but, on the other hand, he may 
 will to refuse the divine aid. The will is therefore able 
 either to subordinate itself to God by accepting the 
 divine aid, or it may strive after independence of God, 
 and thus lose its true freedom. We may understand 
 from this how Augustine connects pride or self-assertion 
 with the privation of being. Self-assertion intensifies 
 the negative element, and thus diminishes man's true 
 being ; for true being can exist only in union with 
 God. The sin of Adam, then, in Augustine's view, 
 consisted in a voluntary lessening of the force of being, 
 and at the same time in a striving after a false 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 343 
 
 independence. It is at once privatio boni and superbia. 
 This fall from true being is contrary to nature, because 
 it is contrary to the divine plan of the world ; it is, 
 therefore, opposed to the true nature of man, which 
 demands harmony with God. Sin is an amor perversus, 
 inordinatuSy an inversion of the original order. From 
 the point of view of superbia it is a surrender of 
 obedientia^ because it is a striving after independence of 
 God. To sin is to elect for the empty or negative 
 element in the world, instead of willing what is in 
 harmony with the divine order. The Pelagians 
 admitted that ignorantia was the result of sin, but 
 they contended that this did not affect the will ; 
 Augustine, on the other hand, maintains that the will 
 as well as the intellect is affected. In contrast to the 
 Pelagians, he also maintains that concupiscentia is 
 sinful, because it consists in the subordination of the 
 spirit to the body : it is the result, not the cause, of 
 weakness of will. Concupiscentia arises, in the first 
 instance, not from the body, but from the spirit. The 
 needs of the body are in themselves innocent, for Christ 
 had a body without concupiscentia} 
 
 The consequences of sin are punishment and guilt. 
 All sin, except the first sin of Adam, Augustine 
 regards as poena peccatL The corrupt will is no 
 longer free. When Adam fell, he willed to turn away 
 from God, but he did not will the painful consequences 
 of his act. When, however, he sinned, he had to bear 
 these consequences. After the fall the will was power- 
 less to do what was pleasing to God, and this 
 impotence is poena peccatL Thus Adam's posterity 
 have lost even the power to will the divine aid. The 
 first man by his fall into sin has brought all men 
 
 ^ Dt Natura Boniy 19; Civ. xiii. 14; xv. 21; xii. 6; Enchir. 106; 
 Corr, et Gratia, lo, 12 ; De Nat. et Gratia, 61, 
 
344 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 into the sinful state, and from this state they are 
 absolutely powerless to raise themselves. The sin 
 which passes from Adam to all his posterity is there- 
 fore the punishment of Adam's sin. The central point 
 of the controversy with the Pelagians was in regard 
 to the manner in which sin passes from the first man 
 to the whole race. All that the Pelagians would admit 
 was, that Adam's posterity were exposed to the tempta- 
 tion of evil example, and to the influence of evil custom, 
 which made good acts more difficult. They denied 
 that these powers were so strong that they could not 
 be overcome, and maintained that even before Christ 
 there were sinless men. Augustine, on the other hand, 
 sought to show that man is infected by sin even at 
 his birth, and that in the two forms of ignorantia and 
 infirmitas, i.e, both in intelligence and will. As children 
 inherit sin, they naturally inherit the guilt of sin. In 
 Adam, as Augustine maintains, all have pre-existed, 
 and in him all have fallen, and have therefore parti- 
 cipated in Adam's guilt Because all are sinful and 
 all are guilty, all are justly punished, and therefore 
 are subject to death. Adam's sin was the act of the 
 whole race, his guilt the guilt of the whole race, his 
 punishment the suffering of the whole race. Man 
 after the fall is a massa perditionis, and as all are 
 sinful, it is just that all should be condemned. With- 
 out Christ, therefore, man is absolutely powerless for 
 good, Augustine, however, refuses to accept the 
 Manichaean doctrine that the nature of man is evil : 
 nature, as such, is always good. Original sin is a 
 defect which can be removed by grace. The will 
 which is evil must be converted by grace, for by his 
 own powers man cannot be righteous.^ 
 
 '^Opus Imp. iv. loo; Pecc. Mer, i. i$; Be Gratia Christie 39; Civ, 
 xiii. 14 ; De Praedest. Sanci. 8 ; Genes, ad Litt, x. 12 ; De Nat. et Gr. 34, 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 345 
 
 The greatest difficulty in Augustine's doctrine of 
 sin is to reconcile it with his idea of the divine 
 nature. If the world would have been better had 
 Adam willed the good, how are we to explain the 
 existence of evil, in harmony with the divine omni- 
 potence ? It is no doubt true that evil must subserve 
 the harmony of the world ; but it is not Augustine's 
 view that evil is necessary, since he admits the formal 
 freedom of Adam, and always maintains that evil is 
 contrary to the divine will. Now, if evil is not neces- 
 sary, and is even contrary to the will of God, how 
 can it be said that nothing takes place contrary to 
 the will of God ? Here there seems to be an insoluble 
 contradiction. Augustine comes nearest to a solution 
 in his view of the final cause of the world. The 
 good of the world and its supreme end he regards as 
 consisting in a realization of the divine will. The 
 ethical will of God would thus seem to be an end 
 subordinate to the harmony of the universe. What- 
 ever the creature may do, it cannot overthrow the 
 supreme divine will, which consists in the harmony 
 of the moral and the other attributes of God. This 
 idea of harmony plays a very important part in the 
 theology of Augustine. Since evil is subservient to the 
 harmony of the world, in so far as the good is thrown 
 into relief by its opposite, it subserves the revelation 
 of the justice and love of God, just because it is 
 antagonistic to His ethical will. As the revelation of 
 the divine beauty, the world is a complete work 
 of art, a beautiful poem of the Creator, presenting 
 above all the divine love and justice.^ 
 
 Augustine was led to his doctrine of grace by his 
 own development. As we have seen, he reached a 
 stage of scepticism, from which he sought to escape 
 
 ^ Civ* xii. 3. 
 
346 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 by falling back upon the necessity of divine illumi- 
 nation. We must believe, because we cannot know. 
 It has, however, to be borne in mind that, according 
 to Augustine, God alone is the source of true know- 
 ledge, and that the blindness of the intellect arises 
 from the fact that it has turned away from God, 
 Thus the scepticism of Augustine is in harmony with 
 his doctrine of sin. It is sin that prevents us from 
 being filled with the light of God. Faith is, there- 
 fore, a gift of God, by which the darkness of the 
 intellect is removed. Moreover, Augustine in his own 
 experience had learned the impotence of the will to 
 reform the life, even when the intellect is convinced 
 of the spirituality of God. Hence the necessity of 
 divine grace. In the individual, grace operates by 
 the production of faith, humility, and love. The con- 
 tent of faith, as Augustine holds in contrast to the 
 Pelagians, does not consist merely in the law. The 
 law leads to good only from the fear of punishment. 
 It merely awakens our consciousness of guilt, for we 
 know that we cannot fulfil it Hence the law is not 
 the essential content of Christian faith. The essential 
 content of faith is the consciousness of our own sin- 
 fulness and complete impotence, as well as of the 
 saving grace which is given only in Christ and His 
 work. What has made the coming of Christ neces- 
 sary is sin, guilt, and punishment ; thus the general 
 content of faith is, that Christ is He who frees man 
 from sin, guilt, and punishment, and restores him to 
 his original state of purity. But, while sin is contrary 
 to the will of God, the guilt of sin is not guilt against 
 God. Even sin is subservient to the highest will of 
 God, serving as it does to reveal the harmony of all 
 His attributes. And as there is no guilt against God, 
 so Christ has not reconciled God Himself, but He has 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 347 
 
 done a work within the sphere of revelation, by which 
 the revelation of justice can, without injustice, be 
 effected. Thus the process of salvation takes place 
 within the world, while God Himself remains un- 
 changed. Augustine's view therefore is, that Christ 
 gave His blood as a ransom for our guilt to the 
 devil, who, as the representative of the divine justice 
 of punishment, had a just claim on us as sinners.^ 
 
 Augustine's doctrine of predestination is the logical 
 result of his view of the impotence of man without 
 the grace of God, when it is brought into connection 
 with his conception of the divine plan of the world. 
 Since he denies that man is free to will the good, 
 he is forced, in consistency, to maintain that it is 
 not because God foreknows men will be good that 
 He predestinates them, but He predestinates them in 
 order that they may be good. Why some are pre- 
 destinated to life, others to death, Augustine confesses 
 that he does not know : this is a mystery hidden in 
 the depths of the divine wisdom. We are not able 
 to see the wisdom of God in particular cases, and 
 must content ourselves with a general apprehension 
 of the revelation of the divine harmony. Thus man 
 becomes merely an organ of divine revelation. Good- 
 ness has no worth in itself, because evil as well as 
 good may be the organ of revelation.^ 
 
 What is the relation of predestination to historical 
 evolution ? There are many passages in which 
 Augustine says that predestination concerns the way 
 and mode in which that which has been determined 
 by God is definitely realized. Here the work of 
 Christ has its historical significance, though only for 
 the elect who are chosen in Him, as He Himself is 
 
 * UtiU Cred. 8 ; Spir. et Lit, 19 ; Civ, vs.. 15 ; Trin, xiii. 15. 
 ^Praed. Set, 17, 18, 19. 
 
348 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 the primary instance of free election. The principle 
 that in reality everything happens in accordance 
 with the law of cause and effect, has its place in 
 predestination. This, however, does not explain how 
 real changes can take place consistently with the 
 unchangeable activity of God — a difficulty which, on 
 Augustine's general principles, is insoluble.^ 
 
 If historical events are predestinated, is not all action 
 superfluous ? Augustine answers, that it is predeter- 
 mined in the divine will that what is predestinated can 
 only be realized by means of external causes. Since, 
 therefore, we do not know who are predestinated, it is 
 incumbent on us to extend the Gospel to the utmost of 
 our power. To the objection that prayer is superfluous, 
 he answers that prayer is a means of grace, and the 
 means of grace are necessary as external media, though 
 no doubt their favourable or unfavourable action 
 depends upon whether a man is predestinated or not^ 
 
 On the other hand, Augustine in some cases virtually 
 denies that, from the point of view of God, the inter- 
 mediation of particular means is necessary for the 
 realization of what is predestinated. In the eye of God 
 the man who is predestinated to salvation is already a 
 filius pads even before his conversion. On this side, 
 the doctrine of predestination threatens to destroy all 
 historical evolution, and to make even the historical 
 manifestation of Christ superfluous. There is, therefore, 
 in Augustine's doctrine of predestination a contradiction, 
 since on the one hand historical evolution is necessary, 
 on the other hand it is indifferent.^ 
 
 In estimating the influence of Augustine, we must 
 remember that he was not merely the creator of a new 
 system of dogma, but also the reformer of the religious 
 consciousness of his age. He overthrew the old popular 
 
 ^ Don. Pers. 14. ^ Corr. et Gr. 14, 15; Praed. Set, 19. ^ Civ. xxii. 2. 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 349 
 
 psychology and morality, and cast a new light upon the 
 higher development of the human spirit by his remark- 
 able power of making inner experiences the direct 
 object of his observation. The intimate way in which 
 for him morality and religion were bound together came 
 upon his age like a revelation. To the ascetic morality 
 prevalent in his day he gave a new meaning, by con- 
 ceiving of it as a means through which man attains to 
 love of God and the suppression of his selfish desires. 
 He deepened the consciousness of sin and guilt, and in 
 this respect he impressed upon the human mind a 
 character which it has never since entirely lost. His 
 was no superficial optimism, which simply ignored the 
 existence of evil, but one based upon the idea of a new 
 birth of the will, in which the radical evil of human 
 nature is transcended. His greatest contribution 
 consisted in converting the outer forms of religious 
 worship into inner experience ; and even where the 
 authority of the Church was invoked, his object was 
 to give to the individual that certainty which, as he 
 believed, could be secured in no other way. 
 
 A man of such originality and independence as 
 Augustine could not passively accept the traditional 
 faith, but was compelled by his very nature to give it a 
 new and higher form. Early Christian piety was a 
 perpetual oscillation between hope and fear. The 
 whole system of dogma started from the good which 
 was believed to be obtained in Baptism. Fear of 
 judgment led to fasts, alms-giving, and prayer. Men 
 hesitated between confidence in their own power and 
 hope in the inexhaustibility of the grace of Christ. 
 There was a belief in free-will, but it did not overcome 
 the terror and remorse arising from the consciousness of 
 evil. Augustine, on the other hand, brought peace and 
 rest into the soul through his conception of the relation 
 
3SO PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 of man to God. "Thou, O Lord, hast created us for 
 Thyself, and our heart is restless, until it finds rest in 
 Thee " : this is the new note of Christian piety repre- 
 sented by Augustine. This state of feeling he reached 
 by his study of Scripture, by his observation of human 
 nature, and by his religious speculation. Sin is the 
 sphere and the form of the inner life of every natural 
 man. That the human race had experienced a fall 
 from its original state, had been asserted in all 
 theological systems from St. Paul to Origen ; but 
 Augustine was the first to regard this fall as the basis 
 of all religious feeling and all theological thought For 
 him it was the most *vital fact, which determined the 
 life of the individual and of the whole race. All sin is 
 sin against God, for there is only one permanent relation 
 of a created Spirit — the relation to God. Sin is self- 
 will, and therefore its form is that of desire and unrest. 
 Thus fear is itself the experience of evil. Out of this 
 unrest man can be raised only by union with God. 
 There is no true life of the soul but life in God. And 
 this life is possible for man only through Jesus Christ. 
 Through him man may again come into community 
 with God. This takes place through grace, which 
 makes us willing, though unwilling, giving to us a new 
 nature, and through love, which strengthens the weak 
 spirit and fills it with the powers of goodness. Faith 
 and love proceed from God, for they are the means by 
 which the living God imparts Himself to His own. The 
 peace of God is poured into the soul which has the 
 living God as its friend. Thus it enters into the rest 
 and peace of God, advancing from false freedom to true 
 necessity, from fear to love ; for " perfect love casteth 
 out fear." Faith, humility, and love are the means by 
 which the misery of sin is overcome. In this conscious- 
 ness the Christian lives. He never ceases to feel the 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 351 
 
 pain which is the result of sin, but he never loses the 
 consciousness of the blessedness resulting from union 
 with God. Thus Augustine, in place of an uncertain 
 and hesitating conception of sin, has put the knowledge 
 of its power and its terror; in place of an uncertain 
 conception of grace, he has put the knowledge 
 of its omnipotence. This is the burden of his Con- 
 fessions} 
 
 Nothing was further from Augustine's mind than 
 any intention of changing the traditional beliefs of the 
 Church, That he actually effected such a change was 
 due to his overmastering desire to realize for himself, 
 and to live ever deeper in, the faith of the Church. For 
 him the Church was the necessary means by which 
 scepticism could be overcome. So far from denying 
 the authority of the Church, he was the first to assign 
 to it a definite place in his system. Thus he was able 
 to give a deeper meaning to traditional beliefs without 
 breaking with tradition. In his view, while the Church 
 is the presupposition of the Christian life, it does not 
 interfere with the religious life of the individual. 
 Augustine's struggle with himself had convinced him 
 of the sinfulness of human nature. When therefore he 
 threw himself into the arms of the Church, he did so 
 with the full conviction that its authority was 
 necessary to prevent him from sinking into scepticism. 
 The doubts which the doctrine of the Church excited 
 could only be silenced by the Church. By means of 
 allegorical interpretation, it is true, he found a way 
 of meeting the attacks upon Scripture, but this 
 allegorical interpretation itself was justified only by the 
 Church. He openly proclaimed that he believed in 
 many things solely on the authority of the Church. 
 This conviction had an enormous influence upon 
 ^ Cf. Harnack, Dogmengeschickte^ iii. 59-66. 
 
352 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 Western Catholicism ; for now a great part of the 
 responsibility, which had hitherto oppressed and 
 crushed the individual, devolved upon the Church. 
 Henceforth the Church cooperates in every act of faith. 
 Thus the believer comes to adopt a different attitude 
 towards dogma and Scripture. Augustine is the father 
 of the doctrine of " implicit faith." This change in the 
 attitude of the individual has by no means been 
 productive solely of good. It opened up the way to 
 all the evils which spring from belief in an external 
 authority. In Augustine's own case its worst effects 
 were avoided by his personal consciousness of God ; 
 and it was only when this living consciousness ceased 
 to exist that belief in the authority of the Church 
 showed its most baneful effects. We must also 
 remember that belief in the authority of the Church 
 was, for Augustine, at bottom belief that the Church 
 was the medium by which the nature of God was 
 revealed to man. From the Confessions of Augustine, 
 as well as his other writings, it is evident that in 
 his inmost soul he regards religion as consisting in 
 communion with the living God, and therefore in a 
 personal relation between the soul and God. The 
 keynote of his Confessions is that God alone can 
 give rest and peace to the soul. It was this conviction 
 which constituted his greatness in the history of piety. 
 On the other hand, it must be admitted that the 
 dogmatic theory of his later days did not do full 
 justice to his innermost convictions. The result was 
 that Catholic Christianity did not escape from the 
 danger of converting the personal relation between 
 the individual and God into an external theory of the 
 magical virtue of the sacraments. 
 
 It will not be possible, in the short time at my 
 disposal, to attempt anything like an adequate estimate 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 353 
 
 of the theology of Augustine, and I must content 
 myself with a few general remarks. 
 
 (i) Augustine's doctrine of the Trinity can only 
 be understood if we bear in mind what he was seek- 
 ing to avoid, and what he was labouring to express. 
 What he was seeking to avoid was the Neoplatonic 
 conception of God as absolutely inscrutable in His 
 inner nature, and what he was seeking to express 
 was that God is essentially self-generating, self-know- 
 ing, and self-manifesting. The Neoplatonists did, 
 indeed, say that God produces a Son, who is the 
 image of Himself, and they described this Son as 
 an intelligence which is its own object ; but, on the 
 other hand, they regarded the distinction in intelli- 
 gence of subject and object as a defect ; thus virtually 
 maintaining that God in Himself is Pure Being. Now, 
 Augustine rightly holds that God is essentially self- 
 knowing ; in other words, that the distinction of subject 
 and object, when subject and object are identical, is 
 the highest form of being. Thus Augustine, in his 
 doctrine of the Trinity, was intent upon maintaining 
 that God must be conceived, not as pure being, but 
 as the absolute identity of being and knowing. It 
 was also Augustine's object to emphasize the truth 
 that God, by His very nature, is Love. Hence he 
 insists, not only that God duplicates Himself in His 
 Son, but that the relation between Father and Son is 
 that of Love. It is thus obvious that Augustine has 
 expressed in his doctrine the fundamental idea of 
 Christianity, that God is in His inner essence Love. 
 But, while we must do full justice to the truth 
 contained in Augustine's doctrine, it is impossible to 
 admit that the form in which he states it is adequate. 
 If in the Father memory — or what in the divine 
 nature corresponds to memory — preponderates, in the 
 
354 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 Son intelligence, in the Holy Spirit love, we cannot 
 consistently preserve the unity of God, The truth 
 seems to be, that Augustine, though he names the 
 unity, is unable to find a proper expression for it. 
 When he is speaking of the human mind, he cannot 
 get rid of the notion that, though the mind is one, 
 there are in it distinct faculties, — memory, intelligence, 
 and will But a true psychology will not put these 
 three modes of mind on the same level, but will 
 regard them as different stages in the development 
 of the one single self-conscious subject. Now, what 
 in the human subject presents itself as successive 
 stages in, the development of the one subject, cannot 
 apply without modification to the divine nature ; for 
 in the divine nature there can be no process from 
 lower to higher. Hence the three persons of the 
 Trinity must be viewed as three phases or elements 
 in the conception of God, which may be distinguished 
 by analysis, but which imply one another. God, the 
 Father, must be regarded as an abstract conception 
 of the infinite fulness of being which is involved in 
 the divine nature ; God, the Son, as an expression of 
 the essential nature of God as self-objectifying ; and 
 God, the Spirit, as expressing the essential nature of 
 God as a self-determinant and self-conscious Unity. 
 But these logical distinctions do not imply that there 
 are three distinct persons, if by this is meant that 
 each is God : to say so is to divide up the divine 
 nature in an illegitimate way : what is true is that 
 God is essentially self-existent, self-manifesting, and 
 self-knowing. In more' popular language, we may 
 express this by saying that God must be conceived 
 as a Person, or, as I should prefer to say, as a Spirit ; 
 for spirit is that which is capable of manifesting the 
 most extreme distinction without losing its essential 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 355 
 
 identity ; nay, that which must manifest the most 
 extreme distinction, while maintaining its unity. Noth- 
 ing can be foreign to the divine nature, and therefore 
 nothing can destroy its absolute self-identity. 
 
 (2) In his doctrine of the Trinity, Augustine con- 
 ceives of God as absolutely complete in Himself, 
 independently of His relation to the world ; in his 
 doctrine of the divine purpose, on the other hand, 
 he maintains that whatever comes to pass has already 
 existed in the divine mind from all eternity. Between 
 these views, as we have already seen, there seems 
 to be this fundamental discrepancy, that God in His 
 own nature is self-complete, and therefore there is 
 nothing beyond Himself to know, while yet He is 
 affirmed to have in His mind a knowledge of all that 
 has been, is, or will be in the world. Here, in fact, 
 we come upon a fundamental difficulty, which presents 
 itself in various forms in the theology of Augustine, 
 — the difficulty of explaining how God can be abso- 
 lutely self-complete apart from the world, while yet 
 the world is in some way bound up with the know- 
 ledge and purpose of God. The difficulty presents 
 itself here in the form that, as God's knowledge of 
 Himself is distinguished froii\ His knowledge of the 
 world, the former is already complete without the 
 latter ; for God's knowledge of Himself is, and must 
 be, absolutely complete knowledge, and therefore 
 knowledge of the world would seem to be knowledge 
 of what lies beyond the sum-total of reality : which 
 is a manifest contradiction. It is obvious that the 
 only way in which we can possibly escape from this 
 contradiction is by holding that God's knowledge of 
 Himself involves a knowledge of the world. What 
 prevented Augustine from taking this view was no 
 doubt his inability to see how it could be maintained 
 
356 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 consistently with the separation of God from the 
 world ; and this separation, as it seemed to him, 
 was essential to the nature of God as a spiritual 
 being. 
 
 (3) Even if we admit that in God's knowledge 
 there is involved His knowledge of the world, we 
 have still to explain how this knowledge is realized. 
 It is obviously one thing to say that God knows the 
 world, and another thing to say that the world is 
 entirely dependent on Him. Here again Augustine's 
 doctrine attempts to combine two very different views. 
 On the one hand, he cannot admit that there is in the 
 world, as distinguished from God, any addition to the 
 sum of being. Hence he maintains that the world 
 differs from God only in having in it an element of 
 negation or privation of being. It follows from this 
 that the world can be said to be, only in so far as it 
 contains an element of being, identical with the being 
 of God. And, if so, obviously the existence of the 
 world can only be an illusion, due to the supposed 
 reality of the world in itself, — a reality which it does 
 not possess. Such a doctrine, consistently followed 
 out, can only lead to an acosmism, in which the world 
 has only an apparent reality ; and therefore the world 
 must be regarded as an illusion, which disappears, as 
 Spinoza held, when we contemplate all things sub 
 specie aeternitatis. While this is the logical conse- 
 quence of Augustine's Neoplatonic doctrine that finite 
 being is purely negative, his more explicit doctrine 
 is that the world is a relatively independent existence, 
 which owes its origin to the creative power of, God. 
 The difficulty involved in this doctrine is, that it does 
 not explain how God can be complete apart from 
 the world. If the world is due to the divine will, 
 and if its existence is in no way necessary to the 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 357 
 
 completeness of the divine nature, the existence of the 
 world becomes inexplicable. Augustine, indeed, tries 
 to obviate this objection by saying that the creation 
 of the world does not involve any change in the divine 
 purpose. But, not to repeat the difficulty, which we 
 have already found to beset Augustine's doctrine of 
 the divine purpose, it is obvious that this reply does 
 not meet the fundamental difficulty, that the world, 
 to which is given a reality additional to the complete 
 reality of God, must have some independence, unless 
 it is to be resolved into the divine nature. It is 
 thus evident that Augustine has attempted to recon- 
 cile two discrepant views. He is right in maintaining 
 that all reality is involved in the divine nature, and 
 he is also right in holding that the finite has in 
 some sense a reality of its own ; but he is unable 
 to reconcile the two views with each other. To 
 > reconcile them, we must be prepared to admit that 
 the reality of God is inconceivable apart from the 
 reality of the world. Such a doctrine can be defended 
 from attack, only if we can show that the world, 
 when understood as it really is, has a reality not 
 merely negative, but positive, while yet it has no 
 reality apart from God. From this point of view the 
 reality of the world is bound up with the reality of 
 God : to know what the world is in its true nature 
 is to know that it is a manifestation of God. In 
 this way, and as I believe in this way only, can the 
 dualism of God and the world be overcome. 
 
 Augustine's view of time and space is but another 
 instance of the same conflict of opposite ideas. On the 
 one hand, he regards time and space as having no 
 meaning from the point of view of God ; and, on the 
 other hand, as having reality from the point of view of 
 created things. But it is impossible to rest in this 
 
358 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS 01 RELIGION 
 
 compromise. If time and space are merely modes of 
 finite reality, which have no meaning from the divine 
 point of view, how can we avoid regarding them as 
 illusions ? Augustine has concealed this difficulty from 
 himself, by assuming that the world has a kind of 
 reality of its own. But, if God contemplates all things 
 as apart from space and time, obviously space and time 
 have for Him no reality ; in other words, they can only 
 be the imperfect modes in which a finite being like 
 man is compelled to view things. Now, it must of 
 course be admitted that time and space are not 
 ultimate ways of conceiving reality ; but it is one thing 
 to admit this, and another, and a totally different thing, 
 to say that they have no reality whatever. If we are 
 able to say that God contemplates things from a higher 
 point of vieWy it must be because we are ourselves able 
 to do so, since what we cannot make intelligible to 
 ourselves has for us no meaning. Nor does it seem 
 hard to see that, in the very conception of God as 
 unchangeable and eternal, we are already beyond the 
 point of view of mere succession and co-existence. At 
 the same time, no comprehension of the idea of God 
 can destroy the aspect of reality in which it manifests 
 succession and co-existence ; therefore time and space 
 cannot be mere illusions, due to the limited character 
 of the human mind : they are determinations of reality 
 itself 
 
 (4) In his doctrine of sin Augustine seeks to avoid 
 Manichaeism on the one hand, and Pelagianism on the 
 other hand. In contrast to the former, he maintains 
 that nothing can be evil by nature, because this would 
 mean that creatures as they come from the hand of 
 God are evil. The creature is finite, but not evil. In 
 contrast to Pelagius, he holds that the first man was 
 endowed with a good will, and that sin was due to his 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 359 
 
 refusal of the divine aid. Now, while we must admit 
 that Augustine's doctrine shows a much clearer appre- 
 ciation of the facts than either Manichaeism or Pelagian- 
 ism, it can hardly be said that he has reached a 
 self-consistent theory. To say that Adam had power 
 to accept the divine aid, but no power to will the good 
 without divine aid, only pushes the difficulty a stage 
 further back. For, if we ask how he obtained power to 
 will the acceptance of divine aid, the answer must be 
 that he obtained it from God. But this means that 
 Adam had no independent will, and was merely a 
 medium of the divine will. On the other hand, 
 Augustine holds that Adam could will the refusal of 
 the divine aid. Hence we must suppose that he had 
 power of himself to will evil, but had no power to will 
 good. But, if so, it would seem that sin was absolutely 
 inevitable, and as a consequence that moral responsi- 
 bility is unmeaning. Augustine is so determined to 
 avoid the objection that evil can be attributed to God, 
 that he attributes to man the faculty of willing evil, 
 while denying to him any faculty of willing good. But 
 the one goes with the other : if man cannot will good, 
 neither can he will evil ; and if the one comes from 
 God, so also must the other. It thus seems to me, 
 that the only escape from the difficulties of the 
 Augustinian doctrine is to admit frankly that the power 
 to will evil comes from God, not less than the power 
 to will good ; in other words, that man, in his whole 
 nature as a self-determining being, is dependent entirely 
 upon God. If it is objected, that this is inconsistent 
 with, the conception of God as absolutely good, I should 
 answer that the perfection of God, as Augustine himself 
 admits, is not inconsistent with the existence of evil ; 
 in other words, that, from the highest point of view, 
 evil is a necessary element in the development of a 
 
36o PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 finite self-conscious being, who only becomes good by 
 the exercise of his freedom. What from a narrow 
 point of view is evil, must yet be the condition of the 
 highest good. 
 
 Augustine's doctrine of sin rests upon the imperfect 
 metaphysics which he borrowed from Neoplatonism. All 
 that is positive in the finite being comes from God, what 
 belongs to the creature as such being merely negative. 
 Now, we have already seen that, when pushed to its 
 logical consequences, this doctrine leads to the denial 
 of all reality to the finite being. And when Augustine 
 attempts to explain sin from the point of view of 
 negation, he falls into a confusion of thought Admit- 
 ting that finitude is negation, it does not follow that 
 sin is negation. The willing of evil is only the willing 
 of negation in this sense, that it is willing that which is 
 contrary to good ; but the negation of good is just as 
 positive as the negation of evil, and indeed the one is 
 the correlative of the other. To will evil is not merely 
 to will the absence of good, but to will the presence of 
 evil. What gives plausibility to Augustine's doctrine 
 is, that to will evil is undoubtedly to will what is 
 inconsistent with the higher nature of man ; that is, 
 what is inconsistent with his true being, which consists 
 in identity with the will of God. But we cannot 
 oppose the good of man as such to his good as identical 
 with the will of God, as if the former were merely 
 negative : it is only negative in the sense that it is 
 contrary to the true nature of man. 
 
 (5) The form in which Augustine has stated his 
 doctrine of predestination is obviously defective. It 
 assumes an arbitrary act of God, by which certain 
 persons are elected to eternal salvation, others to 
 eternal damnation. This is, of course, the counter- 
 part of Augustine's view of sin and grace. Such a 
 
AUGUSTINE'S THEOLOGY 361 
 
 conception of the divine plan of the world is mani- 
 festly untenable ; the destiny of man cannot be fixed 
 by an arbitrary decree, but must be the result of his 
 free self-determination. On the other hand, it cannot 
 be denied that the doctrine of predestination is of 
 great value, so far as it is a protest against the super- 
 ficial view, that freedom consists in a perfectly arbitrary 
 choice. The world is not a mere chaos, where any- 
 thing may occur: it is a rational whole, in which 
 evil necessarily punishes itself; that is, in which the 
 very nature of God demands that actions contrary 
 to the divine law shall have eternal consequences. 
 This truth, however, is really the negation of the 
 conception, that the destiny of man is fixed by an 
 arbitrary decree. A man's actions are his own, and 
 his destiny must be determined by them. Augustine 
 is forced to admit that there are cases in which the 
 attempt to save men from perdition would seem to 
 be vain, if only we were omniscient. No better proof 
 could be given of the fundamental defect of his own 
 theory^ which is at bottom a survival of that Mani- 
 chaeism, from which he believed himself to be 
 delivered, but which still exerted its fatal influence 
 upon him, leading him to adopt the irrational doctrine 
 that there are men who have been put beyond the 
 pale of God's universe, and put beyond it by a purely 
 arbitrary decree. 
 
LECTURE FOURTEENTH 
 
 MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 
 
 We have seen how Christianity was threatened in its 
 main principle by the divisive categories of Greek 
 thought, and only escaped " so as by fire." In the 
 age of Thomas Aquinas that danger was over, but the 
 very triumph of the Church was a source of unexpected 
 peril. In Augustine it had found a man of speculative 
 genius, full of life and energy, employing his great 
 powers in its service, but in virtue of his originality 
 transforming the doctrines he supposed himself to be 
 accepting in implicit faith, and determining the course 
 of religious speculation for centuries ; in Thomas 
 Aquinas it is represented by a great systematizer, 
 naturally of a calm and reflective disposition, whose 
 only originality consists in the faculty of clear, logical 
 arrangement of traditional ideas and in the ingenuity 
 with which he defends the doctrines of the Church 
 by subtle distinctions that leave their substance 
 unchanged. The great germinative ideas of Augustine 
 were left undeveloped through the whole of the Middle 
 Ages, and it is only when we reach the beginning of 
 the modern world in Luther and Descartes that we 
 find this side of his activity developed. This arrest 
 of original speculation is due in large measure to the 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 363 
 
 peculiar position of the Church as the custodian of 
 the civilization of the old world, as well as of the new 
 spiritual power introduced by Christianity. With the 
 inrush of the Barbarians into the Roman Empire, the 
 civilization of the old world would have been crushed 
 had it not been preserved by the Church. But the 
 inevitable result was the destruction of the free spirit 
 of antiquity. The Barbarians were babes in thought, 
 and could only accept the teaching of the Church in 
 implicit faith. They were capable of feeling the 
 influence of the new gospel of self-sacrifice, but they 
 were too^ undeveloped in reflective power to criticise 
 the theology which claimed to formulate it. No doubt 
 this guarded the youthful mind of these nations from 
 aberrations destructive of the essence of Christianity, 
 but the higher intellectual life was stifled, and could 
 only be restored after long toil and conflict. The 
 strength of the Church lay in its powerful organization 
 and its completed system of doctrine. Hence the 
 Middle Ages subordinated knowledge to faith, seeing 
 in science only a means of preserving intact the unity 
 of ^doctrine. Even this guarded exercise of reflection, 
 however, contained in it the germ of that freer 
 movement which awoke in the modern world with 
 the Renaissance and the Reformation ; and therefore 
 Scholasticism was not merely the apologist for dogma, 
 but an unconscious preparation for a more independent 
 movement of thought. 
 
 Medieval philosophy moved within the lines of the 
 Augustinian theology, but with that theology was com- 
 bined as an instrument the study of Aristotelian logic, 
 or rather of that logic regarded as a purely formal dis- 
 cipline. In the first centuries of the Middle Ages only 
 two of the logical treatises of Aristotle were read — the 
 De Cateqoriis and the De Interpretatione, and these 
 
364 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 only in a Latin translation with the introduction of 
 Porphyry. The resulf was that an enormous industry 
 was expended in learning and practising the schematism 
 of formal logic. The dogmas of the Church were 
 regarded as infallible, and the main activity of thought 
 was concentrated on the attempt to reduce them to 
 syllogistic form. There was one problem, however, 
 which naturally arose frond the consideration of the 
 forms of thought, and which was continually discussed, 
 especially in the first period of the Middle Ages, the 
 problem of the nature of universal ideas. Have these 
 ideas realities corresponding to them, or are they 
 merely names for collections of individuals, or are they 
 but conceptions in the mind ? An affirmative answer to 
 each of these questions gave the three theories of 
 Realism^ Nominalism^ and Conceptualism. 
 
 Meanwhile this subtle dialectical disputation met 
 with opposition, partly from those who had received 
 an impulse to scientific studies from the Arabians, 
 and still more from simple pious minds, who saw in 
 dialectic a weapon for obscuring the simple Christian 
 faith and casting doubt upon the do^ctrines of the 
 Church. 
 
 Nothing could at first sight seem more barren than 
 the endless controversy about the nature of universals. 
 We may, however, understand how it came to exercise 
 so great a fascination over men's minds, if we turn 
 for a moment to one of its applications. Suppose 
 the Realists to be right ; suppose, that is, that the 
 reality of anything is proportional to its generality; 
 and what is the logical consequence of this view when 
 applied to determine the nature of God ? If we 
 arrange a number of logical species under a supreme 
 genus, obviously this genus 'will be the most general 
 of all, viz. pure Being. Now, if pure Being is the 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 365 
 
 highest reality, the definition of God as the highest 
 Being will be that of a Being of whom nothing can 
 be said but that He, or It, is. Such a result naturally- 
 led to a revolt against Realism. But the counter- 
 theory of Nominalism is equally defective on the other 
 side. If universals are merely names, all realities must 
 be particular, and thus the idea of God can only be 
 a name for the collection of particular things. If, 
 therefore, Realism leads to a pantheistic conception 
 of God, Nominalism is logically atheistic. Nor is 
 Conceptualism a satisfactory solution of the problem ; 
 for, if universals are merely conceptions in our minds, 
 the conception of God cannot be a real comprehension 
 of God, but only of God as our understanding conceives 
 Him to be. 
 
 With the second period of the Middle Ages, the 
 controversy about universals largely lost its interest, 
 partly because the more concrete writings of Aristotle 
 came to be known. This is the period of which 
 Thomas Aquinas (122 5- 1274) was the spokesman. 
 His philosophy and theology are the explicit formu- 
 lation of the whole later medieval view of life, express- 
 ing, as they do, in the form of a reasoned system, 
 its ascetic piety, its mysticism and its belief in the 
 absolute sovereignty of the Church in all matters of 
 faith and practice. At the end of the tenth century 
 there was a powerful revival of religious and ecclesias- 
 tical life, which grew in strength and influence and 
 reached its culmination in the thirteenth century. The 
 monastery of Clugny, which was founded in the tenth 
 century, was at first supported by princes, bishops, 
 and above all by the Emperor, until it was turned 
 by Hildebrand (loi 5-1085) against all three. Chris- 
 tianity came to be identified with the monastic 
 conception of life ; the result being that the clergy 
 
366 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 were maintained to be supreme over the whole of 
 the laity, while the national churches lost their 
 independence and were forced to acknowledge the 
 supremacy of Rome. According to the monastic 
 ideal, the present life must be entirely devoted to a 
 preparation for the life to come. This naturally led 
 to the view that all secular powers must be under 
 control of the Church, since otherwise the Gospel would 
 be captured by hostile powers. Hence all national 
 forms of life must be subject to the divine ends of 
 the Church ; which meant that they must be subject 
 to the Pope, as the representative of Christ. In the 
 beginning of the thirteenth century the Church was 
 entirely victorious. As has been said, the age bore, 
 in its culture, " the pained look of world-renunciation 
 on the one hand, and the look of strong character 
 suggesting world-conquest on the other." 
 
 This was the conception of life which Thomas 
 sought to commend to his age. For this end he 
 employed all the learning of his time, which had been 
 enriched by contact with Palestine, Constantinople and 
 Spain, and above all, by the direct study of the logic, 
 physics, ethics and politics of Aristotle ; but the ideal 
 which governed his thoughts, and determined the form 
 of his theology, was the triumphant ideal of the 
 universal sovereignty of the Church. Thomas did not 
 create the papal theory, but he was the first to give 
 it a systematic and reasoned basis. That theory 
 involved two great equations : the hierarchy is the 
 Church, and the Church is the Pope. By the first 
 equation it was held that the Christianity of the laity 
 is dependent on the mediation of the priests, who alone 
 can perform ecclesiastical acts, and whose sacramental 
 and judicial powers are independent of their personal 
 character. By the second equation, the Church, as 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 367 
 
 possessing both temporal and spiritual power, must 
 have a monarchical constitution, and be represented 
 by the successor of Peter, the Roman Bishop. This 
 is the view in support of which Thomas employs all 
 his dialectical skill. It was a view that had practi- 
 cally been accepted since the days of Hildebrand, 
 but, until Thomas wrote his Summa, its support was 
 sought in external historic testimonies, most of them 
 audacious forgeries ; it was left for him to develop 
 the hierarchical and papal theory in connection 
 with a bold theory of the State, and thus, for the 
 first time, to make it part of a comprehensive 
 theology. 
 
 Now, if the absolute sovereignty of the Church is 
 to be vindicated, not only the old dogmas, but the 
 entire department of ecclesiastical practice, must be 
 regarded as of divine origin ; and this, from the 
 scholastic point of view, means that both dogma and 
 practice must be shown to harmonize with reason, even 
 when they transcend its unaided powers. We thus 
 find in Thomas an absolute faith in authority, combined 
 with the demand that theology should be a scientific 
 system. This attempt to unite faith and reason is not 
 peculiar to him ; what is peculiar is that — unlike Anselm, 
 for instance — he regards authority and reason as 
 independent sources of knowledge, neither of which can 
 be reduced to the other. Thus, a broad distinction is 
 drawn between natural theology as based upon reason, 
 and positive theology, the basis of which is revelation. 
 The aim of Thomas, therefore, was to construct a system 
 of theology that should be employed in the service of 
 the Church. But, since the knowledge of Church 
 doctrine and Church practice is, at the same time, 
 the knowledge of God, theology is also conceived as 
 a means of salvation, and thus it at once brings the 
 
368 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 individual into subjection to the Church and lifts him 
 into free communion with God. In constructing this 
 system Thomas started from the Augustinian doctrines 
 of God, predestination, sin and grace ; the material 
 thus supplied to him, he proceeded to mould into a 
 system by a comprehensive use of the Aristotelian 
 philosophy ; and the highest ecclesiastical claims he 
 sought to vindicate by a general theory of the State, 
 adapted from Aristotle. It is to this system, with its 
 complex and discordant elements, that we must now 
 give our attention. 
 
 Through the whole of the Thomistic theology there 
 runs the fundamental contrast of Reason and Revela- 
 tion. The opposition, between truths which can be 
 discovered by the exercise of reason, and truths which 
 transcend reason, is one from which no medieval 
 thinker could liberate himself, and hence we find it 
 made the basis of the Thomistic philosophy. But, 
 while the antithesis is accepted, the demand for 
 intellectual clearness, which was the main impulse to 
 its construction, inevitably led to the attempt to show 
 that there can be no disharmony between the two 
 kinds of truth. From the point of view of God there 
 can be only one truth, and therefore the distinction 
 between the truths of reason and the truths of revela- 
 tion arises from the limitation of our intelligence, not 
 from any discrepancy between the truths themselves. 
 There are, then, truths which come to us from revela- 
 tion, and from revelation alone. These human reason 
 could never discover, nor even, when they are revealed, 
 can we perfectly comprehend their infinite depth. 
 Such truths are the mysteries of the Trinity, the 
 Incarnation and the creation of the world in time. 
 And, obviously, nothing less could be held by a 
 defender of the Church ; for, if it is once admitted 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 369 
 
 that all truth must be established by the normal 
 exercise of reason, the whole theory of a special 
 divine revelation disappears, and along with it the 
 infallibility of the articles of faith and the claim of 
 the Church to exercise sovereignty over all nations 
 and individuals. 
 
 So far as the special " mysteries " of Christianity 
 are concerned, Thomas maintained the absolute 
 independence of truths of reason, and truths of 
 revelation. No human reason could ever have reached 
 the truths of revelation by inferences from facts. But, 
 since reason is implanted in us by God, it has its 
 own special function and its own rights. Nor is 
 reason so absolutely limited that it is confined within 
 the boundaries of the sensible world : it is capable 
 of rising, from the things that have been made, to 
 their Author, God, It is true that reason could 
 never have discovered the inner nature of God ; that 
 is known to us only by revelation ; but it is capable 
 of demonstrating that God is, and that He is one. 
 There is, therefore, a kind of truth, which is common 
 to reason and revelation. But this gives rise to a 
 problem which demands solution. Why should God 
 reveal to us truths that we are capable of discovering 
 for ourselves ? For various reasons, answers Thomas, 
 but chiefly because such truths as the existence and 
 nature of God, while they are of supreme importance, 
 are so difificult to discover, and so apt to be obscured 
 by error, that it was necessary that they should be 
 placed in the clear light of revelation. So far as 
 these truths are concerned, then, their absolute 
 guarantee is revelation, but, as they may also be 
 proved by reason, they must be admitted, even by 
 those who reject revelation. Thus a demonstra- 
 tion of them is a preparation for the reception of 
 
 2 A 
 
370 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 revelation, and therefore philosophy is the " handmaid 
 of theology." ^ 
 
 Corresponding to the distinction between truths of 
 reason and truths of revelation, is the distinction 
 between Knowledge and Faith. Thomas, indeed, is 
 here placed in a peculiar difficulty. When we look 
 at Knowledge and Faith from the point of view of 
 the human subject, we must put Knowledge above 
 Faith. Knowledge consists in the direct or indirect 
 comprehension of a real object ; whereas Faith is 
 merely the subjective certainty of a truth, without 
 insight into the reason why it is true. From this 
 point of view, therefore, Knowledge is higher than 
 Faith : in Aristotelian language, it is the apprehen- 
 sion, not merely of the " fact " (oVt), but of the " reason 
 why " (SioTi). Now, if this distinction is applied to 
 the sphere of divine things, it is obvious that the 
 knowledge obtained by the exercise of reason must 
 be higher than faith in the truths of revelation. Such 
 a doctrine no defender of the Church could possibly 
 accept ; and therefore Thomas maintains that, when 
 we consider Faith and Knowledge by reference to 
 the objects with which they deal, the former is higher 
 than the latter. The object of Christian Faith is 
 either God Himself, or the world in its relation to 
 God ; and the sole source of this Faith is the revela- 
 tion of Himself given to us by God, who is absolutely 
 truthful. Now, the certainty which is based upon 
 the absolute truthfulness of God is higher than can 
 possibly proceed from the insight of reason ; for 
 reason is prone to err, while revelation is infallible. 
 When, therefore, we consider the sources of Faith 
 and Knowledge, we must admit that Faith is higher 
 than Knowledge. Thomas is thus led to hold that 
 
 ^ Contra Gentiles^ i. 3-9. 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 371 
 
 Faith and Knowledge are mutually exclusive. That 
 which we know, since it is immediately present, cannot 
 be an object of Faith. When reason is in harmony 
 with the object, we have Knowledge ; but Faith is 
 belief in an object that is not, and cannot be, present 
 in itself, and therefore it involves a surrender of the 
 will in the absence of Knowledge.^ 
 
 So far as the special truths of Christianity are 
 concerned, there is no difficulty in preserving the 
 distinction between Faith and Knowledge. We have 
 faith in the doctrine of the Trinity or the Incarnation, 
 not because we can comprehend these " mysteries," 
 but because we surrender our wills to God, *' believing 
 where we cannot prove." But what are we to say 
 of those truths which are co7nmon to reason and revela- 
 tion ? Can we maintain that the existence of God 
 is an object of Faith, and therefore exclusive of Know- 
 ledge, while admitting that we have here a truth which 
 is reached by the normal exercise of reason, and is 
 therefore an object of Knowledge? The faculty of 
 subtle distinction, which is characteristic of the schol- 
 astic philosopher, enables Thomas to give a plausible 
 solution of the difficulty. In the first place, we 
 have to remember that there are many who have no 
 demonstrative knowledge of the truths which are 
 common to reason and revelation. Now, these truths 
 are the presuppositions of faith, the Praeambula fidei^ 
 and therefore they are an object of faith, and not of 
 knowledge, for those who cannot establish them by 
 reason. It is, therefore, man's duty to believe in 
 these truths, quite independently of his ability to prove 
 them by reason. But, secondly, this act of faith is 
 demanded even of those who have knowledge. The 
 human mind in its weakness is prone to doubt and 
 
 '^Summa, i. Q. 99, Art. l ; ii. Q. i, Art. I, 4, 8. 
 
372 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 error, and therefore, quite irrespective of demonstration, 
 we must surrender our wills to the revelation of these 
 truths. Thus, even when we have satisfied our reason 
 of the truths of God's existence and unity. Faith in 
 this truth must subsist side by side with, and inde- 
 pendently of, Knowledge.^ 
 
 If Faith, as Thomas holds, is sufficient evidence 
 not only of the " mysteries " of Christianity, but even 
 of those truths which can be demonstrated by reason, 
 it will naturally be objected that the work of reason 
 is superfluous. Why should we laboriously seek to 
 demonstrate the existence and unity of God, if this 
 truth is not only revealed to us, but must in the end 
 be accepted, independently of the evidence of reason ? 
 This objection also Thomas has anticipated. His 
 answer is, that while the truths common to reason and 
 revelation must be accepted solely on the authority 
 of God, it lessens the merit of faith, and ultimately 
 leads to its destruction, if we resist the evidence of 
 reason. Moreover, Knowledge, so far from lessening 
 the value of Faith, increases it ; for he who humbly 
 accepts a truth because it is revealed by God, and 
 then goes on to adduce rational grounds for it, shows 
 that he loves the truth, and this love of truth increases 
 the merit of faith.^ 
 
 As reason and revelation, knowledge and faith, are 
 two independent sources of truth, there must be two 
 independent sciences of divine things. The science of 
 reason is Philosophy, the science of revelation is 
 Theology. The former rests upon those principles 
 which we come to know by the natural light of 
 reason : the latter consists of the principles of revela- 
 tion, which Thomas identifies with the dogmas of 
 the Church, as revealed in the higher light of faith. 
 
 ^SummUi ii. Q. I, Art. 5. ^Summa, ii. Q. 2, Art. 9, 10. 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 373 
 
 No doubt there are truths which are common to 
 philosophy and theology, but the attitude of the two 
 sciences towards them is different, and therefore each 
 constitutes an independent science. For philosophy 
 these truths are considered as demonstrated by reason, 
 for theology they are revelations of God. While both 
 philosophy and theology have a practical as well as a 
 theoretical part, theology is pre-eminently a speculative 
 science, since its main interest is in the divine nature, 
 human actions being considered only from the point 
 of view of that vision of God which is the condition 
 of eternal happiness. Moreover, though both sciences 
 deal with created things, philosophy investigates their 
 essential properties and relations, while theology 
 considers them only as created by God and subject 
 to His will. Their method is, therefore, entirely 
 different ; for, whereas philosophy ascends to God 
 from the essential properties and laws of created 
 things, theology, starting from the idea of God and 
 His attributes, descends to created things, in order 
 to determine their relation to God, so far as it 
 can be learned from revelation.^ 
 
 The philosophy of Thomas is an attempt to explain 
 the various orders of existence by a transformation of 
 the Aristotelian doctrine of forms and their relation 
 to matter. There are immaterial or spiritual beings 
 which, as entirely independent of matter, are pure 
 forms ; while, on the other hand, there are also 
 immaterial beings who realize themselves only in union 
 with matter. Now, the human soul, which is the 
 lowest of the pure intelligences, is a forma separata, i.e. 
 it is, in its essential nature, independent of the body, 
 and on this depends its immortality. But, on the 
 other hand, it is also the form of the body, and as such 
 
 ^ Summa, i. Q. i, Art. 4 ; Centra Gentiles^ ii. 4, 
 
374 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 it is the highest of those forms which realize themselves 
 in matter. Nevertheless, in man as he actually exists, 
 these two sides, the spiritual and the natural, are 
 bound together in an absolute substantial unity. Man, 
 then, in virtue of the union in him of a two-fold nature, 
 is the link between the natural and supernatural. 
 There is an ascending scale of being from the lowest 
 inorganic beings, through the plant and the animal, to 
 man, and from the human soul, in uninterrupted 
 continuity through the various hierarchies of angels, 
 who are pure intelligences not inherent in matter at all, 
 to God the Absolute Form or Spirit.^ 
 
 In his theory of knowledge, Thomas makes the 
 direct object a copy of the external thing, which arises 
 from the co-operation of the soul and the external 
 thing. It is this copy which is apprehended by the 
 soul. In his view of the powers of the soul Thomas 
 follows Aristotle in regarding the intellect as higher in 
 dignity than the will. The problem, as first raised, 
 is whether determinations of the will depend upon 
 ideas of the intellect, or ideas of the intellect upon 
 determinations of the will. In particular cases Thomas 
 admits that the will has an influence upon the 
 affirmation or denial of ideas. This is true in the case 
 of belief. But in general he maintains that the will is 
 determined by knowledge of the good. For it is the 
 intellect, which, in all cases, discerns what is good. 
 The will always strives after what is known to be 
 good, and is therefore dependent upon the intellect. 
 Hence, freedom presupposes intelligence. It is true 
 that freedom of choice implies the determination of the 
 will, but the latter would be impossible if the under- 
 standing did not present various possibilities as means 
 of realizing the end which it has set up. This 
 
 ^ De Nat, Mat, 3 ; Summat i. Q. 66, Art. 2, 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 37S 
 
 principle Thomas also applies to the relation between 
 the divine intellect and will : God creates only what in 
 His wisdom He knows to be good ; the ideal content 
 of His intellect is Himself, and this is the object of will. 
 Thus the divine will is bound to the divine wisdom, 
 which is superior to it.^ 
 
 In his ethics Thomas naturally maintains that, while 
 the moral law is the command of God, it is com- 
 manded because it is good, and not good because it is 
 commanded. As God only commands what is recog- 
 nized as good by His wisdom, goodness is the 
 necessary consequence and manifestation of the divine 
 wisdom. 
 
 The theology of Thomas, with which we have now 
 to deal, follows the order of the articles of faith, and 
 therefore begins with the idea of God, the fundamental 
 and cardinal article. 
 
 The highest way in which God can be apprehended 
 is by intuition (visio intuitivd) ; the lowest is know- 
 ledge by means of the natural reason ; and standing 
 between them is faith. In its conception of intuition, 
 or the direct vision of God, the mystical side of the 
 Thomistic doctrine is especially prominent. The 
 intuitive apprehension of God is that direct vision of 
 the divine essence, which transcends not only the 
 highest reach of reason, but is superior even to faith. 
 So to know God, is to know Him as He knows Himself. 
 For God is conceived by Thomas, not only as the 
 Absolute Substance, but, after the manner of Aristotle, 
 as the pure self-consciousness {yoria-iq voT/crewy) or pure 
 actuality, in which thought and being are absolutely 
 identical. To such a vision of God it is impossible 
 that any created being should attain, by even the 
 highest exercise of his reason. Only if man were a 
 
 ^ Contra Gentiles^ i. 65, 77 ; iii. 26 ; Summat i. 2, Q. 3, Art. 4, 5. 
 
37<5 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 pure intelligence, could he, by the use of his natural 
 powers, have a direct vision of God ; so long as he is a 
 being in whom soul and body are united, his intelligence 
 is limited by the sensuous forms which supply the 
 material with which thought must operate. Accordingly, 
 man can only participate in the intuitive knowledge of 
 God in a supernatural way ; in other words, God must 
 so unite Himself with the human faculty of knowledge, 
 that man may attain to a direct vision of the essence of 
 God. Hence the necessity of supernatural illumination 
 {lumen gloriae). But this supernatural illumination is 
 not fitted for the present life, in which the soul is united 
 with the body, but is mainly reserved for the life 
 beyond ; and, therefore, it is only by the extraordinary 
 influence of divine grace, that the human spirit can, in 
 rare moments, experience the vision of God.^ 
 
 At the other extreme from this intuitive knowledge 
 of God stands that knowledge which is possible by the 
 exercise of reason. By slow and tentative steps reason 
 advances, from the knowledge of sensible things, to a 
 knowledge of their first cause. The knowledge 
 obtained in this way is neither that direct contemplation 
 of the divine essence which is characteristic of intuition, 
 nor can it ever be a complete knowledge of the divine 
 nature. Yet, incomplete and fragmentary as it is, it is 
 a true knowledge of God, worthy of the highest efforts 
 of the human mind. It enables us to know that God 
 is, that He transcends all created things, and that He 
 is the first and highest cause of all things.^ 
 
 Between the intuitive and the natural knowledge of 
 God stands faith, which agrees with natural knowledge 
 in being indirect, but is superior to it, because clearer 
 
 ^Summaj i. Q. 12, Art. 2, 4, 5, il. 
 
 =*/« L. Boeth. de Trin. Q I, Art. 2; Q. 6, Art. 3; Suvima^ i. 
 Q. 12, Art. 12. 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 377 
 
 and more complete, and also because the truths of 
 revelation are higher than those of creation, and 
 contain such mysteries as those of the Trinity, which 
 lie beyond the range of human reason.^ 
 
 Now, the existence of God is a truth of reason as 
 well as of revelation. If it is objected that no proof of 
 the being of God is possible, because any such proof 
 must be deduced from the essential nature of God, 
 which lies beyond the range of our knowledge, the 
 answer is that, though we cannot have a knowledge of 
 the nature of God as He is for Himself, this does not 
 hinder us from reasoning to the existence of God as 
 the first cause of all created things. Thomas, however, 
 refuses to admit the validity of the so-called Ontological 
 Proof of Anselm. If, indeed, we had a direct know- 
 ledge of the divine essence, we could deduce from it 
 the existence of God ; but we have in this life no such 
 knowledge ; and therefore, from the fact that we have 
 the idea of God as a Being than whom no higher can 
 be conceived, it does not follow that such a Being 
 actually exists. The proofs on which Thomas relies 
 are, therefore, what Kant calls the cosmological and 
 physico-theological. He first reasons from the fact of 
 motion to the necessity of a first mover. Whatever we 
 experience as moving, is set in motion by something 
 other than itself. Hence we must either have an 
 infinite series of moving causes, or there must be a 
 first mover, which is not itself moved, but is the 
 cause of motion in everything else. The former sup- 
 position is absurd, because, if there were no first mover, 
 there would be no motion whatever. The other alter- 
 native must therefore be accepted. Hence, there must 
 necessarily be a first mover, whom we call God. The 
 same conclusion follows from the efficient causes which 
 
 '^Summay i. Q. 12, Art. 13. 
 
^7^ PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 we observe in the world ; for we must either admit a 
 first cause, or accept the self-contradictory alternative 
 of an infinite series of causes. The third argument is 
 based on the contingency of all the objects that we 
 observe in the world. That which is contingent may 
 or may not exist, and therefore must at one time have 
 been non-existent. But all contingent things must 
 have come into being, and must therefore have been 
 brought into existence by some cause which cannot 
 itself be contingent, but must be necessary, and must 
 have the ground of its necessity in itself. Thus it is 
 proved that there must be a self-existent Being, whom 
 we call God. Similarly, Thomas reasons from the 
 various degrees of perfection observed in created things 
 to the existence of an absolutely perfect Being, con- 
 taining all the perfections found in the world. He also 
 employs the Physico-theological or Design argument, 
 which, as he believes, proves the existence of an 
 intelligent cause.^ 
 
 The proofs advanced by Thomas establish, as he 
 believes, the existence of God as the first mover and 
 the highest cause of all things, who is necessary, 
 absolutely perfect and intelligent. Thus by a process 
 of demonstration the existence and attributes of God 
 have been proved. But reason can go no further. 
 The Christian conception of God as " one in three 
 persons" cannot be established by ratiocination, because 
 it expresses the inner essence of the divine nature, into 
 which man in this life even when under supernatural 
 influence can only catch a fitful glimpse. The doctrine 
 of the Trinity is entirely a truth of revelation, and is 
 therefore indemonstrable. Reason infers the existence 
 of God from His works ; but, as these are the product, 
 
 "^De Verit, Q, lo, Avt. 12; Contra Gent. i. 11-13; Summa, i. Q. 2, 
 Art. I, 3. 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 379 
 
 not of any one of the three divine Persons, but of the 
 Triune God, there is nothing in the visible world which 
 reveals the inner essence of the divine nature. What 
 place, then, is left for reason in connection with this 
 *' mystery " ? Thomas answers, that though it is inde- 
 monstrable, there are in the finite world, and especially 
 in the rational creature, traces of the divine nature. 
 Hence, he endeavours to make the doctrine of the 
 Trinity more intelligible by means of analogies. Like 
 Augustine, Thomas reduces the Persons of the Trinity 
 to ^ refined Modalism, but, taught by the controversies 
 that had been waged over the doctrine by his prede- 
 cessors, he endeavours to avoid attack by even more 
 subtle distinctions than those drawn by his great model.-^ 
 The "procession" of Persons in the divine Unity 
 can only be conceived after the analogy of spiritual 
 beings. The activity of thought is purely "immanent," 
 and yet knowledge is so far " emanant" that, 
 emerging from the depths of the intelligence, it projects 
 an ideal image of itself Following this analogy, we 
 must distinguish a twofold " procession " in God, cor- 
 responding to the distinction of will and knowledge. 
 In knowing Himself there proceeds from God the 
 adequate thought of Himself, the divine Word ; in 
 willing Himself there is a procession of Himself as the 
 object of love, the Holy Spirit. In all created things, 
 but especially in man, we find traces of the divine 
 Trinity. As a limited substance modified in a certain 
 way the creature derives its being from another, and 
 thus points to the Father ; as endowed with a deter- 
 minate form in which a determinate thought is revealed, 
 it points to the divine Word, which is the ideal pattern 
 of all things ; and as ordained to a determinate end, 
 which constitutes the good corresponding to its nature, 
 
 ^ Summa^ i. Q. 32, Art. I. 
 
38o PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 it points to the Holy Spirit. Man, on the other hand, 
 not only exhibits traces of the divine nature, but " is 
 made in the image of God." As in God there are two 
 " processions " corresponding to intelligence and will, so 
 the human spirit is a unity of knowledge and love. In 
 knowledge there is an object or inner " word," in will 
 this " word " becomes an object of love. But man is 
 only an " image " of God ; for whereas God knows and 
 loves Himself, man must know and love God, and only 
 so can he truly love himself.^ 
 
 After thus endeavouring to show that the doctrine 
 of the Trinity, though it cannot be adequately compre- 
 hended by our finite intelligence, may yet be figured 
 after the analogy of the human spirit, Thomas has 
 next to explain the relation of God to the world. The 
 doctrine of the eternity of the world he, like his prede- 
 cessors, absolutely denies, maintaining the creation out 
 of nothing as an article of faith. But, while he holds 
 that reason can demonstrate the fact of creation, 
 Thomas refuses to admit that it can demonstrate that the 
 world must have had beginning in time. "It is to be 
 asserted," he says, " that the world's not having always 
 existed is held by faith alone and cannot be proved 
 demonstratively ; as was asserted also regarding the 
 mystery of the Trinity . . . That the world had a 
 beginning is credible, but it is not a matter of demon- 
 stration or knowledge. And it is useful to consider 
 this, in case perhaps some one, presuming to demon- 
 strate what is of faith, should adduce reasons that are 
 not necessary, thus giving occasion for ridicule to 
 infidels, who might think that on the ground of such 
 reasons we believe what is of faith." ^ Thomas, how- 
 ever, so far forgets his own warning, that he goes on 
 
 "^ Summa, i. Q. 27, Art. 1-4; Q. 93, Art. 4-8. 
 2 Summa, i. Q. 46, Art. 2. 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 381 
 
 to give a " probable " proof that the world had a 
 beginning in time. The creation of the world cannot 
 be regarded as necessary, for God was under no 
 necessity to create it. Hence, the fact that He volun- 
 tarily brought it into existence best harmonizes with 
 the doctrine that it had a beginning in time. In other 
 words, the creation of the world in time seems best to 
 agree with the doctrine of the absolute freedom of God. 
 The purpose of the creation of the world, as all the 
 schoolmen held, is to manifest the love of God, which 
 seeks to communicate itself to other beings. For 
 Thomas, indeed, the creation of the world is merely a 
 contingent means whereby God fulfils His personal 
 end ; but, on the other hand, he represents this personal 
 end as the supreme thought: ''" divina bonitas est finis 
 rerum omniuin " ^ (the divine love is the end of all 
 things). If so, it is hard to see how the personal end 
 of God can be separated from the existence of the 
 creature. 
 
 The question of divine providence, which was first 
 definitely raised by Origen, and had been vigorously 
 discussed from the time of Anselm and Abelard, is 
 treated with great fulness. Thomas finds the highest 
 ground for the multiplicity and variety of things in 
 God Himself. Every efficient cause seeks to produce 
 an effect as like itself as the matter employed will 
 allow. Hence God must intend to produce the most 
 perfect image of Himself, so far as His likeness can 
 be imparted to created things. Now, a multiplicity 
 and variety of things, combined in a definite order 
 with one another, is a higher good than could be 
 secured by the existence of a number of individual 
 things, identical in nature, and unrelated to one 
 another. Moreover, the world must contain spiritual 
 
 ^Summa, i. Q. 44, Art. 4. 
 
382 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 beings, for only these manifest the spiritual nature of 
 God. Now, if all created things, including man, 
 derive their whole nature from God, must we not 
 hold that all activity in the region of created things 
 is the immediate and exclusive activity of God? 
 No, answers Thomas : if God has made all things 
 like Himself, they must, like Him, be endowed with 
 self-activity. The distinction between God and the 
 creature is that, whereas the creative essence is self- 
 active because of the power inseparable from it, the 
 power of the creature is derived from God. This 
 principle, which is perfectly general, enables us to 
 see that the human will is essentially free though 
 derived from God.^ 
 
 The providence of God is not merely general, but 
 extends to the minutest detail. If God does not care 
 for every one of His creatures, it must be because 
 He has not the will to do so, since His power is 
 infinite. But God's goodness extends to all, and 
 therefore He wills the good of all. We must, 
 however, draw a distinction. The order of the world 
 is due to the combination of intelligence and will, 
 but the particular form in which this order is realized 
 is not incompatible with the self-activity of the parts, 
 and with the subordination of these parts in the 
 attainment of the final cause, the good of the whole. 
 Hence, spiritual beings, which stand nearest to God, 
 are the main instruments for the realization of the 
 plan of divine providence, and to them all other 
 beings must be subordinate. And since the will 
 must be illuminated by the understanding, it is not 
 incompatible with the freedom of man that some 
 should govern and others be governed. Were the 
 
 1 Contra Gent. i. 44 ; ii. 45-6 ; iii. 22, 64-70, 80, %% 97, 148 ; 
 Summa, i. Q. 108, Art. 1-6. 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 383 
 
 less intelligent to rule the more intelligent, the divine 
 order could not be realized.^ 
 
 Since God is absolutely good, He must do all for 
 the best. But Thomas refuses to admit that the 
 infinite goodness of God demands the creation of an 
 absolutely perfect world. For, as God's power is 
 infinite, He must be capable of creating other worlds 
 than this. When, therefore, it is said that the world 
 is ordered in the best and most perfect way, this 
 must be understood to mean only a relative perfection. 
 The world as it exists perfectly attains the end for 
 which it was created, but God might have created a 
 more perfect world, both as regards the character of 
 the parts and the order of the whole. It is never- 
 theless true that the world has been formed in the 
 best and most perfect way. But, if so, what are we 
 to say of evil ? Can we reconcile divine providence 
 with the evil in the world and with the freedom of 
 will from which evil springs ? To these questions 
 Thomas gives an affirmative answer. In an ordered 
 world, there must be gradations of goodness, cor- 
 responding to the variety and difference of things. 
 Hence, there must be beings who can never fall 
 from goodness, and next to them beings who are 
 capable of falling from goodness. Now, beings that 
 are capable of falling from goodness often actually 
 do so, and this is evil. The perfection of creation 
 therefore involves at once the possibility and the 
 reality of evil. The perfection of the whole is com- 
 patible with the imperfections of the parts, if thereby 
 the perfection of the whole is increased. Moreover, 
 much good would be eliminated from the world if 
 there were no evil in it, giving room for the display 
 of patience under persecution and suffering, and the 
 
 '^Contra Gent. iii. 75-8, 81. 
 
384 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 other spiritual qualities. Nor is divine providence 
 incompatible with human freedom ; on the contrary, 
 with the removal of freedom the world would cease 
 to be perfectly ordered, since without freedom virtue, 
 justice and foresight in action are inconceivable.^ 
 
 Now, faith is concerned on the one hand, with the 
 divinity of the Trinity, and on the other hand, with the 
 humanity of Christ. The Apostle tells us that " Christ 
 Jesus came into the world to save sinners," and we 
 must therefore ask how man has fallen into sin, in 
 order to understand how he may be delivered from sin 
 through the humanity of Christ. As originally created 
 by God, the body of man was entirely subject to the 
 soul, and the lower faculties of the soul to the higher, 
 while his reason was subject to God. Now, since the 
 body was subject to the soul, no bodily passion could 
 be hostile to the rule of the soul ; hence man was not 
 subject to death or disease. As the faculties of 
 the soul were under the rule of reason, man was 
 in a state of perfect peace and harmony, being free 
 from all disturbance of unregulated passion. And 
 as his will was subject to God, man referred all things 
 to God as the ultimate end, and in this consisted his 
 righteousness and innocence. This subordination of 
 all things to God was the cause of the harmony 
 between reason and passion, soul and body. For, if 
 we consider the various parts of which the body is 
 composed, we see that there is nothing in the nature 
 of the body itself to exclude its dissolution or to 
 prevent the operation of passions hostile to Hfe. 
 Similarly, it is not involved in the nature of the soul 
 that the sensuous powers should be subject to reason, 
 for these are naturally excited by the love of pleasure, 
 which is in many ways contrary to the commands of 
 
 ^ Contra Gent. i. 66 ; iii. 69-73, 99- 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 385 
 
 reason. It was therefore due to a supreme power, 
 viz. God, that the rational soul was so conjoined to 
 the body, that reason was superior to sense. If, 
 therefore, reason was to rule the lower powers, it must 
 be subject to God. Man, then, in his original state 
 was so formed, that so long as his reason was in 
 submission to God, his body would be subject to 
 the soul, and the sensuous desires to reason. While 
 this subordination continued he could suffer neither 
 death nor pain. On the other hand he was capable 
 of sin, because his will was not yet conformed to 
 the ultimate end, and therefore death and pain were 
 possible. The distinction between the immortality and 
 freedom from pain of the first man thus differs from 
 that of the saints after the resurrection, who can never 
 suffer death or pain, because their will is absolutely 
 submissive to God. Now, in order that man might 
 be habituated to submit his will to God, he was 
 commanded not to eat of the tree of the knowledge 
 of good and evil— not that the eating of it was in 
 itself evil, but that in this unimportant matter man 
 might obey solely because God had commanded. The 
 devil, who had already sinned, seeing that man might 
 gain eternal happiness, sought to seduce him from 
 the path of righteousness, and made his attack upon 
 the weaker sex, in whom the light of wisdom was 
 less strong ; and, to prevail the more readily, he 
 promised what man naturally desired, the removal 
 of ignorance, higher dignity and perfect knowledge. 
 The result of man's transgression of the divine 
 command was that the entire equilibrium of his 
 original state was destroyed, (i) The subjection of 
 sense to reason was destroyed, and there arose in 
 man the excitations of lust, anger and other inordinate 
 passions. This is the conflict of flesh and spirit to 
 
 2 B 
 
386 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 which the Apostle (Gal. v. 17) refers. (2) As the 
 soul was now unable to keep the body under its 
 control, man became subject to pain and death, 
 which were no longer possibilities but necessities. 
 (3) Other defects followed. Since the lower desires 
 obtained the mastery, while the light of wisdom 
 diminished, by which the will was illuminated so 
 long as it was subject to God, man's affections were 
 subject to sensible things, and he fell into many sins. 
 He sought aid from unclean spirits, and thus arose 
 idolatry ; the more corrupt he became, the further 
 he receded from the knowledge and desire of spiritual 
 things.^ 
 
 The sin of the first man involved all his posterity 
 in these consequences. Nor is this contrary to justice, 
 for it involves only the withdrawal of that righteous- 
 ness which was a gift to Adam of God's free grace. 
 The difficulty may be raised, however, whether the 
 want of original righteousness in Adam's descendants 
 is to be imputed to them as guilt. How can there 
 be guilt without personal transgression ? The question 
 may be solved by distinguishing between person 
 {persona) and nature (naturd). Just as in one 
 " person " there are many members, so there are in 
 the same " nature " many persons. And as all men 
 are of the same " nature," the human race may be 
 regarded as a single man, as Porphyry says. In 
 the case of the individual man, though the various 
 members are the instruments of sin, it is the will 
 to which we attribute the sin ; so in the single man 
 constituting the human species, the want of original 
 righteousness is a sin, not of the individual man as 
 such, but of human nature in so far as it flows from 
 the will of the father of the human race. While, 
 
 ^ Compendium Theologiae^ 185-6, 1S8-9, 192-4. 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 387 
 
 therefore, the sins actually committed by the individual 
 directly affect him in person^ original sin only affects 
 his nature. For, the first parent by his sin infected 
 the nature of man, and thus indirectly the person of 
 his posterity, who receive this corrupt nature from 
 him. It must not be supposed, however, that all 
 the sins of Adam or of other men are transmitted 
 to posterity. The first sin of Adam deprived man 
 once for all of the gift of original righteousness, and 
 no subsequent sin can make the loss more complete, 
 but only takes away or decreases some particular or 
 personal good. Now, man does not generate an 
 individual like himself in person, but only in nature ; 
 and hence what is transmitted from father to son 
 is not sin which affects the person, but only that 
 first sin which has corrupted the nature of man. 
 And as the personal sins of Adam are not trans- 
 mitted to his posterity, so neither can posterity 
 benefit from his repentance or any other merit 
 attaching to him as an individual ; for no act of an 
 individual can in any way affect the total nature 
 of the species. Hence the individual merit of Adam 
 or of any mere man cannot possibly restore the 
 whole nature of man to its original state. As 
 original righteousness was a free gift of God, much 
 more must its restoration be due to divine pro- 
 vidence.^ 
 
 Man, then, can only attain to perfect happiness 
 by the removal of the corruption produced by the sin 
 of Adam. And this can be accomplished only by 
 God, and indeed by God becoming man. In his 
 Christology, in fact, Thomas gives such predominance 
 to the divine factor that the human becomes some- 
 thing passive and accidental. He was the first to give 
 
 '^Com, Theo. 195-8. 
 
388 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 a complete doctrine of redemption. He denied, how- 
 ever, that the death of Christ was necessary, maintaining 
 that God could have remitted sin in the exercise of 
 His free will. The reason he assigns for the death 
 of Christ is that it was the " most fitting," because 
 more and greater things are imparted to us in this 
 way than if we were redeemed solely by the will of 
 God. He argues, in the first place, that the suffering 
 and death of Christ were the most fitting means of 
 redemption. The suffering endured by Christ, includ- 
 ing His own pain and the pain of sympathy for our 
 sin, is represented as the sum total of all conceivable 
 suffering. Here two distinct elements are implied : 
 (i) Christ as man is the redeemer, because, as Augus- 
 tine held, His suffering brings God's love home to our 
 hearts and thus stirs in us a responsive love ; (2) 
 because the death of Christ was the most fitting means 
 of winning for men justifying grace {^gratia justificans) 
 and the glory of beatitude (^gloria beatitudinis). In 
 the second place, Christ's suffering — which includes 
 not only His suffering in death but His suffering in 
 life — as absolutely voluntary, was a " satisfaction '* for 
 our sin. The satisfaction was such that God had 
 more love for the gift than hatred for the injury. 
 This leads Thomas to conclude that the satisfaction 
 offered in the divine-human life of the Mediator was 
 not only sufficient, but "superabundant." Christ, from 
 love and obedience, suffered more than was required 
 to balance the injury to God done by the whole 
 human race : not only because of the magnitude of 
 the love which led Him to suffer ; not only because 
 it was the sacrifice of the God-man ; but because it 
 was an infinite suffering. It is worthy of remark that 
 Thomas does not speak of a vicarious penal suffering. 
 In the third place, by His voluntary suffering, Christ 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 389 
 
 merited exaltation, but as this exaltation cannot be 
 conferred upon one who is already divine, it passes 
 over from Him to the Church of which He is the 
 Head. For, just as the natural body is a unity, 
 consisting of diverse members, so the whole Church, 
 which is the mystical body of Christ, is counted as 
 one person with its Head, that is, Christ. Thus the 
 satisfaction of Christ applies to all believers {fideles). 
 The faith, however, by which we are cleansed from 
 sin is not unformed faith {fides informis\ which can 
 exist even along with sin, but faith informed by 
 love {fides formata per caritatem)^ which alone is 
 effectual.-^ 
 
 We have now seen the interpretation which Thomas 
 gives to the articles of faith. It is, however, in his 
 doctrine of the Sacraments that the sovereignty of the 
 Church received his strongest support. Faith lives 
 in the contemplation and enjoyment of the Sacra- 
 ments ; these are committed to the Church and are 
 administered by the hierarchy ; and thus the Church 
 as an ecclesiastical organization is identified with the 
 mystical person of Christ. This is the fundamental 
 thought of Medieval Catholicism, of which Thomas is 
 the spokesman. 
 
 The Sacraments of the Church, Thomas tells us, 
 " have efficacy from the Incarnate Word Himself" 
 " In some way " they " cause grace." The Sacraments 
 are the " instruments " through which God " communi- 
 cates in grace His own nature," but they act " not 
 by virtue of their own form, but only through the 
 impulse they receive from the principal agent." 
 " Hence, the effect does not derive its character 
 from the instrument, but from the principal agent." 
 
 '^ Com. Theo. 199-200; Summa, iii. Q. 46, Art. 1-3; Q. 48, Art. 1-4; 
 Q. 49, Art. I, 2, 6. 
 
390 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 The Sacraments " are applied to men by divine 
 appointment for the purpose of causing grace in them/' 
 They are thus " at once causes and signs, and hence 
 it is commonly said of them, that they effect what they 
 symbolize!' If it is objected that the passion of Christ 
 is surely sufficient in itself for salvation, it is answered 
 that the Sacraments are not useless, " because they 
 work in the power of Christ's suffering, and the 
 passion of Christ is somehow applied to men through 
 the Sacraments." There is contained in the Sacra- 
 ments " a certain instrumental virtue for conveying 
 grace," and this virtue originates " from the bene- 
 diction of Christ and the application of it by the 
 minister to Sacramental use," a virtue which must be 
 ultimately referred to the *' principal agent." ^ The 
 Thomistic doctrine of the Sacraments is, as Harnack 
 says,^ " at bottom nothing but a reduplication of the 
 redemption by Christ, or, to put it otherwise, a 
 second structure above the first, by which the first 
 is crushed to the ground. As grace was conceived 
 of physically, while this physical grace could not be 
 directly connected with the death of Christ or derived 
 from it, it was necessary to associate with God the 
 Redeemer, besides the instrum.entwin conjunctum (the 
 God-man Jesus), still another instrumentum separatum 
 (the Sacraments)." By the conception of grace as a 
 physical, mysterious act, by means of which objective 
 benefits were conferred, Thomas virtually made the 
 lower side of Augustinianism the higher, and thus 
 destroyed its spirit. 
 
 We have still to consider the Thomistic theory of 
 the State in its relation to the Church.^ Even if there 
 
 ^ Summa, iii. Q. 60-64. 
 
 ^Hamack's History of Dogma, Eng, ed., vi. 21 [6], note. 
 
 ^ De Regim, Princip, (Opusc, 20) passim. 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 391 
 
 had been no Fall, man would have found it necessary 
 to unite in the order of the State. On the other 
 hand, without the Fall there would have been no 
 slavery, which involves the subjection of the slave to 
 the interest of his master. But there is a rule over 
 others, which is perfectly compatible with the freedom 
 of the governed ; firstly, because man is by nature a 
 social being, and there can be no social life without 
 a leader, whose sole interest is the common weal ; 
 secondly, because it is unreasonable that a man who 
 is distinguished above his fellows in knowledge and 
 justice should not employ his talents for the good of 
 others. Now, law is a certain ordinance of reason 
 with a view to the common good, entrusted to him 
 whose function it is to secure that end. There is 
 among men a natural law, based upon the distinction 
 between good and evil ; and human laws are special 
 ordinances in conformity with this natural law. The 
 question may be raised whether it is the aim of 
 legislation to prohibit all the transgressions to which 
 men are liable. The answer of Thomas is that, as 
 human laws are applicable to all citizens, the majority 
 of whom are not perfect in virtue, the State should 
 only forbid those things which the majority are able 
 to avoid, and mainly those injuries the prevention of 
 which is necessary for the security of human society. 
 The State should not enforce all virtuous acts, but only 
 those essential to the common weal. The aim of the 
 governors should be to secure peace and unity among 
 the citizens. There are two exceptions to the general 
 principle of obedience to the ruling powers : first, 
 when their commands conflict with a higher power ; 
 second, when they command something not within 
 their jurisdiction. Hence in all that concerns the 
 inner springs of the will, man is under obligation 
 
392 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 to God alone. But citizens are under obligation to 
 obey the law so far as their social acts are concerned. 
 This obligation, however, does not extend to those 
 bodily acts which concern the preservation of the 
 body and the perpetuation of the species ; here the 
 obligation is to God alone. Hence, sons are not 
 under obligation to obey their parents in determining 
 whether they shall marry or live a life of celibacy. 
 But in all that concerns human affairs, the subject 
 is under obligation to obey his superiors — the soldier 
 to obey the general, the slave the master, the son 
 his father. 
 
 Besides natural and human law there must be a 
 divine law in order that man may be led to attain 
 to eternal happiness. The representative of divine 
 law is the Church, and the Church comes to unity in 
 the Pope. The necessity of the Papacy is proved 
 thus : If the Church is to be a unity, all believers 
 must have one faith. Now, disputes arise in regard 
 to points of faith, and unless these can be settled 
 the unity of the Church will be destroyed. Hence 
 there must be a single person to represent the unity 
 of the Church. Now, it is evident that Christ cannot 
 permit the Church, which He loves and for which He 
 shed His blood, to fall in pieces ; and therefore it 
 was ordained by Christ that there should be a leader 
 and ruler of the Church. And this ruler, the Pope, 
 must be the supreme authority in matters of faith. 
 A new edition of the articles of faith is necessary 
 for the avoidance of errors that from time to time 
 arise. It is the function of him who has authority 
 to determine what are matters of faith, and to issue 
 this new edition, in order that all may hold fast by 
 the faith. Hence the Pope must determine all the 
 more difficult questions which affect the faith of the 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 393 
 
 Church. For it is essential that the faith of the Church 
 should be one, and this cannot be secured unless 
 there is a single head of the whole Church whose 
 decision will be accepted by all. 
 
 How far are Christians under obligation to obey 
 their earthly superiors? In seeking to answer this 
 question we must consider that faith in Christ is the 
 principle and cause of justice. Hence by faith in 
 Christ justice is not overthrown but confirmed. But 
 justice requires that subjects should obey their 
 superiors, since otherwise the stability of society 
 would be impossible. Hence, believers are not freed 
 from the obligation to obey their earthly princes by 
 faith in Christ. At the same time they are not called 
 upon to obey an usurper or unjust prince, unless under 
 peculiar circumstances. What, then, is the duty of 
 Christians when a prince becomes an apostate from the 
 Christian faith, i.e. the faith of the Church ? Thomas 
 answers that unbelief in itself is not in contradiction 
 with sovereignty, because sovereignty is based on the 
 law of nations, which is human law, whereas the dis- 
 tinction between believers and unbelievers is based on 
 divine law, which does not abrogate human law. No 
 one who sins by unbelief can lose the sovereignty by 
 a decree of the Church. It is not the function of the 
 Church to punish those who have never accepted the 
 Christian faith. On the other hand, it may punish 
 by a decree unbelievers who have hitherto accepted 
 the Christian faith, and punish them by releasing their 
 subjects from obedience to their authority. For the 
 apostate may by his authority corrupt or destroy the 
 faith, since he cherishes evil in his heart. So soon, 
 therefore, as he has been excommunicated by a decree 
 of the Church, his subjects are by that fact released 
 from his rule. It is true that the Church did not 
 
394 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 excommunicate Julian the apostate, but this arose from 
 the fact that at that time the Church was still weak, 
 and therefore permitted believers to obey him in 
 matters that were not contrary to the faith, in order 
 to avoid even greater danger to it. 
 
 Thomas applies the same principles in the case of 
 unbelievers, heretics and apostates. Among unbelievers 
 are heathens and Jews, who have never accepted the 
 faith. These cannot be forced to become Christians, 
 because faith is a matter of the will. But they may 
 be prevented by believers from obstructing the faith, 
 whether by calumnies, evil persuasions or open per- 
 secutions. And hence, believers frequently make war 
 on unbelievers, not to force them to accept Christianity, 
 but only to prevent them from obstructing the true 
 faith. Heretics and apostates, on the other hand, 
 must be subjected even to corporal punishment, in 
 order that they may be compelled to fulfil what 
 they have promised and to hold fast what they have 
 once accepted. 
 
 These principles are consistently applied to the 
 question of intercourse between believers and un- 
 believers. The Church forbids believers to have any 
 intercourse with those unbelievers who have deviated 
 from the faith either by corrupting it or by renouncing 
 it as apostates. Against both the Church pronounces 
 the punishment of excommunication. As to inter- 
 course with those who have never been Christians, 
 we have to consider position, circumstances and age. 
 Those who are strong in the faith may have intercourse 
 with unbelievers, because they may be able to convert 
 them to the true faith ; but those whose faith is 
 weak must be forbidden intercourse with men who 
 might seduce them from their faith. 
 
 Thomas does not admit that in principle there 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 395 
 
 should be any toleration of other religions. The 
 religious rites of unbelievers may indeed be tolerated, 
 so far as these contain something useful or true, as 
 in the case of the Jews, whose religion was a type 
 of Christianity ; but the rites of other unbelievers, 
 which contain nothing true or useful, are in no way 
 to be tolerated, except to avoid some evil or as a 
 means of gradually leading unbelievers to the true 
 faith. 
 
 As to the treatment of heretics, we must distinguish 
 between what concerns themselves and what concerns 
 the Church. The heretic is guilty of a sin which 
 deserves not only excommunication but death. For 
 it is much worse to corrupt the faith, in which is 
 the life of the soul, than to utter false money. If 
 therefore the coiner may be handed over to the 
 earthly prince to be put to death, with much more 
 right may the heretic be not only excommunicated 
 but punished with death. But the Church has 
 compassion for the erring, and therefore it does not 
 condemn the heretic at once, but only after a 
 " first and second admonition " according to the 
 teaching of the Apostle (Titus iii. lo). But if he 
 is stubborn and unyielding in his heresy, so that 
 the Church can no longer hope for his conversion, 
 then, in its care for the salvation of others, it may 
 excommunicate him and hand him over to the earthly 
 court, in order that he may be removed by death 
 from the world. 
 
 I shall not attempt to criticise in detail the system 
 of this cloistered philosopher. The outline of it just 
 given may enable us to realize more vividly how 
 far the modern world has travelled from the whole 
 medieval view of life, and may help to convince 
 us that no compromise is logically possible between 
 
396 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 a completely reasoned system of truth and an ecclesi- 
 astical ' system based upon authority. The medieval 
 conception of the State as subordinate to the Church, 
 and of the Sacraments as possessing in themselves 
 a mysterious spiritual efficacy, was shattered to 
 pieces by the Reformation ; the external authority 
 of the articles of faith, and the consequent opposition 
 of faith and reason, has been overthrown by the 
 whole development of science and philosophy in the 
 modern world. The system of Thomas in truth 
 contains within itself the seeds of its own destruction. 
 The opposing elements in it are only held together 
 by perpetual compromises, that conceal but do 
 not get rid of the contradiction which they hold in 
 check. The fundamental contradiction is that faith is 
 assumed to be absolutely exclusive of reason. What 
 lends colour to this assumption is that reason is 
 conceived to be capable of no higher comprehension 
 of things than that which results from the application 
 of the category of causality; the consequence of which is 
 that the vision of the divine is identified with a mystical 
 elevation only reached in fitful moments by a few 
 select souls. Thus the true spirit of Christianity, 
 which draws no fundamental distinction between men, 
 and denies any abstract opposition between the divine 
 and the human, is perverted ; and religion, instead 
 of being a continuous life in God, is made a thing 
 of rare and exceptional inspiration, possible only to 
 a few. The same defect besets the ascetic ideal. 
 It is not seen that, if religion cannot transform every 
 human being and every part of life, it confesses its 
 own one-sidedness ; that the Christian must live in 
 the whole, whether he is sweeping the steps of the 
 temple or ministering at the altar ; that the carpenter 
 is not less a servant of the Lord than the statesman. 
 
MEDIEVAL THEOLOGY 397 
 
 In short, the spirit of the modern world demands 
 the complete union of freedom and reason, whether 
 it deals with the construction of society, the search 
 for truth, or the practical problems of everyday life. 
 Man is spirit, and for spirit nothing is real that is 
 not at once self-evolved and coincident with the 
 truth of things ; and neither self-evolution nor truth 
 is possible without the freest play of the seeking, 
 testing, constructive reason. Whatever does not do 
 homage to this fundamental principle is still infected 
 with the separatist spirit of the medieval world, and 
 must and will be swept away in the onward movement 
 of humanity. 
 
LFXTURE FIFTEENTH 
 LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 
 
 The beginning of the modern world is characterized by 
 a liberation of the spirit of man from the weight of 
 authority and tradition, a liberation which includes that 
 of the reflective intellect. Hence we can understand 
 how it came about that a new epoch of philosophy 
 began in the century which followed the Reformation. 
 The same spiritual process by which Protestantism 
 separated itself from Catholicism led to the separation 
 of philosophy from the theology of the middle ages. 
 Prior to the Reformation there was no philosophy 
 standing upon the independent basis of reason ; for 
 reason was allowed to exercise itself only under 
 presupposition of the dogmas of the Church, and 
 therefore it was either employed in the defence of 
 preconceptions, or where it freed itself from these, 
 it had to disguise itself as a defender of the faith. 
 But, when Protestantism had thrown off the weight 
 of external authority and taken its stand upon the 
 religious experience of the individual soul, philosophy 
 made a similar claim for reflection. As Luther 
 protested against the power and authority of the 
 Church, on the ground that it had often erred and 
 contradicted itself, refusing to recognize that anything 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 399 
 
 could be accepted as true which could not be proved 
 by scripture or plain grounds of reason, so Descartes 
 begins his philosophy by maintaining that all so-called 
 truths must be held as doubtful until they can be 
 established by the incontrovertible testimony of reason. 
 It is true that Descartes expressly excepts from the 
 criticism of reason the " mysteries " of faith, but in 
 the construction of his philosophy he allows nothing 
 to be admitted as true which does not bear the test 
 of his criterion of " clear and distinct " consciousness. 
 Thus philosophy virtually affirmed the principle that 
 only the rational is real, and prepared the way for the 
 acceptance or rejection of those " mysteries," according 
 as they do or do not bear the test of the free and 
 open criticism of reason. 
 
 Spinoza, the successor of Descartes, carries out the 
 Cartesian doubt in an unflinching way. For him, 
 philosophy is not merely a systematic view of the 
 ordinary world of experience, but it is the only way 
 to the higher life. The source of all the unrest and 
 evil of the world he finds in the partial and limited 
 view of existence which is assumed by the ordinary 
 or uncritical consciousness, and therefore he pursues 
 his calling of philosopher with a full conviction of 
 the greatness of the issues at stake. Descartes, even 
 if philosophical speculation should fail, could fall back 
 upon the truths of faith ; for Spinoza the failure of 
 philosophy meant complete spiritual bankruptcy. Such 
 a failure he believed impossible. He conceived himself 
 to have proved, with all the rigidity and convincing 
 force of demonstration, that all finite forrhs of existence 
 are modes of a single absolute Substance ; and the 
 secret of life he found in contemplating all things 
 sub specie aeternitatis^ i.e. from the point of view of the 
 Infinite and Eternal. Thus with Spinoza philosophy 
 
400 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 is the substitute for theology. There can be no place 
 for " mysteries " of faith in a system which seeks to 
 explain all things from the necessary idea of God, 
 and regards every change in the external world, 
 and every idea in the mind of man» as following by 
 inviolable necessity from the fixed and unchangeable 
 nature of God. 
 
 The absolute antagonism of philosophy and theology, 
 as implied and indeed expressed by Spinoza, could 
 not be the last word. It rested upon the assump- 
 tion that the mysteries of faith are a tissue of 
 preconceptions, which philosophy by its independent 
 development shows to be irrational. To Leibnitz the 
 content of theology seemed to be essentially rational, 
 and to the defence of theology he therefore set himself 
 in his Theodicie. It is to the exposition and criticism 
 of this defence that I propose especially to direct 
 attention in this lecture. To understand it fully, 
 something must be said in regard to the main positions 
 of Protestant Theology, so far as these are dealt with 
 in the treatise of Leibnitz. 
 
 The Reformation was primarily not a theological 
 but a religious movement. The Reformers were not 
 led to throw off the bondage of authority from a 
 conviction of the falsehood or inadequacy of the 
 dogmatic system of the Church : the moving principle 
 of their antagonism was an intense consciousness of 
 the natural sinfulness of the human heart, and the 
 consequent necessity of regeneration by faith in Christ. 
 It is for this reason that even Melanchthon, who 
 first attempted to formulate the principles of the 
 Reformation in a systematic way, exhibits a certain 
 aversion to dogma, or at least to those dogmas 
 which formed the main substance of the old system. 
 In the first edition of his Loci he has nothing 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 401 
 
 to say of the doctrine of God, of the Trinity, or 
 of the person of Christ, but concentrates his whole 
 attention upon the doctrines of sin and grace, and 
 others closely connected with them. So also the 
 Augsburg Confession sought to set forth those doctrines 
 in which Protestantism differed from the traditional 
 system. It was inevitable, however, that an attempt 
 should be made to formulate a complete system of 
 doctrine, and hence in the Apology to the Augs- 
 burg Confession all the main ideas of Protestant as 
 distinguished from Catholic doctrine are dealt with. 
 So strongly was the infinity of God emphasized that 
 the tendency was to deny any reality to the finite. 
 Carried out to its logical consequences, this view, at 
 least as stated by its exponents, introduces contradiction 
 into the divine nature ; for if evil as well as good 
 is the product of the divine activity, it would seem 
 that the divine nature, as indifferent to good and evil, 
 is in contradiction with itself To escape from this 
 contradiction the Socinians denied that man is conscious 
 of the divine nature as it is in itself, — a view which is 
 obviously self-contradictory, for, if man cannot know 
 what the nature of God is, he can say nothing about 
 God, not even that He is. The contradiction in the 
 Protestant idea of God becomes even more apparent 
 when an attempt is made to reconcile the various 
 attributes of God with His absolute unity. Here the 
 method of solution was similar to that employed by 
 the Socinians in reconciling the self-activity of man 
 with the omnipotence of God. The distinction of 
 attributes, it was said, is merely subjective : in Himself 
 God is a unity, absolutely simple, real and perfect, 
 and hence the attributes which for us are distinct are 
 in God identical. In the doctrine of the Trinity, 
 Protestant theologians abandoned even the attempt to 
 
 20 
 
402 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 reconcile the unity of God with the distinction of the 
 three persons, maintaining the doctrine to have no 
 basis in reason, and even to be contrary to reason. 
 Melanchthon, indeed, made a suggestive attempt to 
 explain the relation of the Father and the Son by 
 the idea of the divine Reason or Logos as essentially 
 self-revealing ; but his view was rejected, and an 
 appeal was made to what was believed to be the 
 scriptural doctrine. In passing from the idea of God 
 to His relation to the world, the Protestant doctrine 
 met with two difficulties : first, the difficulty of 
 reconciling the absolute causality of God with the 
 existence of evil, and, secondly, the difficulty of finding 
 any place for the activity of man. The former it 
 sought to resolve by maintaining that evil is defect, 
 and that all that is positive in an act is due to God ; 
 the latter by saying that man is created a free being. 
 In its doctrine of sin and grace Protestant theology 
 maintained that man was originally absolutely righteous, 
 and that the Fall completely destroyed this righteous- 
 ness, so that man is incapable of himself of willing 
 the good; but later theologians of the Lutheran Church 
 held that, when influenced by the Holy Spirit, man's 
 freedom is shown by his power of yielding or refusing 
 to yield to that influence. In Calvin, again, the 
 doctrine of original sin was held in all its stringency, 
 and he connected it with the doctrine of Predestination. 
 To the objection that, in that view, evil is foreordained 
 by God, he answered that it is not foreordained as evil, 
 but as a means to good. 
 
 The mere statement of the Protestant theology of 
 the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries is enough 
 to show how strong an emphasis is laid by it upon 
 the Infinite. Even where the freedom of the finite 
 subject is reluctantly conceded, it is reduced to a 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 403 
 
 capacity of willing the good only when the influence 
 of God transforms the sinful nature of man. Now, 
 it is significant that in Spinoza, who approaches the 
 problem from an entirely different point of view, the 
 unreality and impotence of the finite subject and the 
 absoluteness of the divine power constitute the very 
 essence of his system. Protestant theologians supposed 
 themselves to be deriving their doctrine directly from 
 scripture, while in truth they were the vehicle of 
 that revolt against medievalism, and that return upon 
 the consciousness of self, which revealed the finitude 
 of self apart from the infinitude of God. The same 
 return movement led, in philosophy, first to the 
 opposition of finite and infinite and then to the 
 absorption of the finite in the infinite. The beginning 
 of the movement is shown in Descartes. For, while 
 he starts from the immediate consciousness of self as 
 the one primary indubitable truth, he immediately 
 goes on to point out that there can be no transition 
 to the consciousness of the world except through the 
 consciousness of God. Nor is this all : for Descartes, 
 when the objection is urged that the subject, as 
 knowing only his own states, cannot have a know- 
 ledge of God, replies that he could have no knowledge 
 of himself unless he had a knowledge of God. To 
 know one's self as finite presupposes a knowledge of 
 the infinite. Thus the true first principle is obviously 
 the consciousness of God. Moreover, Descartes, though 
 he affirms that the self is known as a thinking 
 substance, yet admits that, strictly speaking, there is 
 only one Substance. 
 
 From these two admissions of Descartes — firstly, 
 that the finite has no meaning apart from the infinite, 
 and, secondly, that there can only be one Substance 
 or self-subsistent Being — the philosophy of Spinoza is 
 
404 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 developed. Blessedness is not the reward of virtue, 
 but virtue itself: it is the state in which the indi- 
 vidual exists who, in union with God, is beyond the 
 division of himself and others. Whatever occurs to 
 him he knows to proceed from the eternal nature of 
 God, and therefore he is content with it. Not even 
 the prospect of death can disturb his serenity, for 
 that also he sees to follow from the whole constitution 
 of the world. But, if the only true satisfaction of 
 man consists in knowledge of God, why do not all 
 men attain it? What is the explanation of imper- 
 fection ? The idea of imperfection, answers Spinoza, 
 is not positive but negative : it is merely a defect, or 
 the absence of reality. From the absolute point of 
 view, nothing can be called evil : everything is what 
 it must be. When we say that a man is evil, we 
 properly mean that he fails in that fulness of reality 
 which characterizes the good man. The reason, there- 
 fore, why all men do not attain to the absolute point 
 of view is, that the infinity of the divine nature 
 must produce everything conceivable by an infinite 
 intellect. The universe forms a chain of degrees of 
 perfection, and the perfection of the whole demands 
 that all degrees of perfection should exist, including 
 the lowest, which is called evil. Thus the distinction 
 between evil and good is not one of kind but of 
 degree. 
 
 The necessary consequence of Spinoza's doctrine is, 
 that finite beings have no individuality or self-deter- 
 mination. All reality is dissolved in the one indivisible 
 Substance. The philosophy of Leibnitz, on the other 
 hand, seeks to do justice at once to the absolute unity 
 and perfection of God, and to the individuality and 
 self-activity of finite beings. This is the ruling idea 
 in his Theodicee. In the preface Leibnitz shows 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 405 
 
 that he was working towards a more comprehensive 
 view of religion than that of the dogmatic theologians 
 of his day. The majority of men, he says, have 
 always identified religion with its external form. The 
 form includes, on the one hand, religious ceremonies, 
 and, on the other hand, a formula of belief, or creed. 
 The former is an imperfect expression of the practical 
 element in piety, the latter is the inadequate expression 
 of an enlightened faith. The value of creeds and 
 ceremonies is not to be denied, but they should be sub- 
 ordinated to enlightenment and virtue, which are the 
 essential constituents of genuine piety. Paganism had 
 no theology ; it was limited to certain ceremonial 
 observances. Its " mysteries " did not consist in 
 dogmas, but in certain secret practices, in which the 
 profane or uninitiated were not allowed to take part. 
 It was full of superstitions, which acted upon the hopes 
 and fears of men, but it had hardly a glimpse of a 
 future life, nor did it afford men true ideas of God 
 and the soul. Of all ancient peoples, only the Jews 
 had a system of religious dogmas. This little nation, 
 inhabiting a narrow strip of territory, alone had a 
 worthy idea of the Supreme Being, and it alone 
 embodied that idea in public laws. Yet Moses did 
 not include in his laws the doctrine of the immortality 
 of the soul : it was reserved for Jesus Christ to lift 
 the veil, and to teach, with all the force though without 
 the authority of a lawgiver, that immortal souls pass 
 into another life, where they receive the reward of their 
 actions. Moses had already insisted upon the majesty 
 and the goodness of God ; Jesus Christ showed all 
 the consequences of these attributes. Completing what 
 Moses had begun, He sought to make God an object 
 not only of fear and veneration, but of love and 
 confidence. Love is that affection which makes us 
 
4o6 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 find pleasure in the perfection of that which is loved ; 
 and there is nothing more perfect than God, and 
 therefore nothing which brings greater felicity. In 
 God we find all the perfections of which we are 
 ourselves capable, but He possesses them in an 
 unlimited degree : there is in us some power, know- 
 ledge, goodness ; in Him they are absolutely complete. 
 Order, proportion, harmony, of which painting and 
 music are scintillations, we find exhibited in nature. 
 God is perfect order ; He always maintains just 
 proportions ; He constitutes the universal harmony : 
 all beauty is, therefore, a reflection from Him.^ 
 
 It follows that true piety and true felicity consist 
 in the love of God, a love in which ardour is 
 accompanied by light. This species of love gives 
 rise to that pleasure in good actions which throws 
 virtue into relief, and, by relating all to God as a 
 centre, lifts the human to the divine. For in doing 
 our duty, in obeying reason, we fulfil the commands 
 of the Supreme Reason ; we direct all our resolutions 
 to the common good, which is identical with the 
 glory of God. The aim of true religion ought, 
 therefore, to be to impress the principles of genuine 
 piety on the soul, Le, to awaken a consciousness of 
 the perfections of God. It is therefore of great 
 importance to show wherein these consist, and this 
 is the aim of the treatise.^ 
 
 Natural religion has found its most perfect expres- 
 sion in Christianity, but Christianity also contains 
 certain positive doctrines which transcend reason. 
 These cannot be either proved or disproved, but it 
 can be shown that, though they are beyond reason, 
 they are not contrary to it We may assume that 
 
 "^Thiodicie^ Priface\ KTdma,nn's /.ei^nzHt Opera Philosophica, pp. 468-9. 
 '^ Ibid. pp. 469-70. 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 407 
 
 there can be no contradiction between two kinds of 
 truth. jNow, the object of Faith is the truth which 
 God has revealed in an extraordinary manner, while 
 Reason is the system of truths to which the human 
 mind is able to attain without aid from the illumina- 
 tion of faith. The truths thus connected together 
 may be furnished to reason by experience, or they 
 may proceed from reason itself, in entire independence 
 of sense. The truths of reason are therefore of two 
 kinds. The first kind consists of what may be called 
 eternal truths, which are absolutely necessary, so that 
 their opposite involves a contradiction. Such are 
 those truths the necessity of which is logical, meta- 
 physical, or mathematical, and the denial of which 
 leads to absurdity. There is, however, another class 
 of truths, which may be called positive, because they 
 consist of the laws which God has seen fit to give 
 to nature. ( These we learn either a posteriori, i.e. by 
 experience, or a priori, i.e. by reflection upon the 
 reasons which have caused them to be chosen. They 
 are due to the free choice of God, and not to 
 geometrical necessity. Hence we may say that 
 physical necessity is based upon moral necessity, or, 
 in other words, it is due to the choice of the 
 Supreme Wisdom ; while both are to be distin- 
 guished from metaphysical or geometrical necessity. 
 Physical necessity constitutes the order of nature, 
 and consists in the laws of motion, and in certain 
 other general laws which it has pleased God to 
 give to things in bringing them into being. These 
 laws have not been imposed upon nature without 
 reason, for God does nothing from caprice or accident, 
 or from absolute indifference. At the same time, since 
 the laws of nature are conditionally necessary, i.e. have 
 been enacted only because of their fitness for the 
 
4o8 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 purposes of God, they may be suspended in special 
 cases when a higher end requires it. We can thus 
 understand how God may set aside the laws which 
 He has imposed upon created things, or perform a 
 miracle. For the laws of nature are always subject 
 to the dispensation of the lawgiver. /Eternal truths 
 cannot be superseded, and therefore faith can never 
 be contrary to them ; but, as physical truth is only 
 conditionally necessary, no valid objection can be 
 made against the mysteries of religion on the ground 
 that they transcend the laws of nature.^ ' 
 
 It is important to observe that an article of faith 
 may be explained without being comprehended. Even 
 in natural science this distinction holds good. Thus 
 we can explain many sensible qualities up to a certain 
 point without being able to carry our explanation to 
 the point of complete comprehension. Hence it is not 
 surprising that we cannot demonstrate the mysteries of 
 faith by reason. But, though we cannot comprehend 
 them, we can show that they are not contrary to 
 reason.^ 
 
 We can now see in what sense the ordinary dis- 
 tinction between what transcends reason and what 
 contradicts reason is to be interpreted. The distinction 
 corresponds generally to the conditional necessity of 
 natural law and the absolute necessity of the eternal 
 truths of reason. Nothing can contradict those truths 
 which are absolutely certain : while that which is beyond 
 reason is merely contrary to what we learn from experi- 
 ence, or what we are able to comprehend. There are 
 truths which lie beyond the range of our comprehension, 
 and perhaps even beyond the range of all created intelli- 
 gences, but there are no truths which are contrary to 
 
 ^ Thiodicie, Sees. 1-3, pp. 479-80. 
 "^ Ibid. Sec. 5, pp. 480-1. 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 409 
 
 reason ; for reason is not a collection of opinions, nor 
 even of those conceptions which are based upon the 
 ordinary course of nature, but an inviolable system of 
 truth.^ 
 
 The view which has just been set forth, that nothing 
 can be contradictory of reason, is denied by Bayle, who 
 maintains that the truths of faith are beset by insoluble 
 contradiction, and that there are even philosophical 
 truths which we must believe, but which we cannot 
 make intelligible. As an instance of the former he 
 cites the doctrine of Predestination, and as an instance 
 of the latter the composition of the continuous. Now, 
 to say that a doctrine is open to unanswerable objec- 
 tions is to say that contradictory propositions may both 
 be true, — a conclusion which cannot be admitted unless 
 we are prepared to abandon all truth. When we come 
 to examine the instances which Bayle gives of truths of 
 faith asserted to be contradictory of reason, we find that 
 their supposed contradiction is due to untenable assump- 
 tions. Thus, he says that the goodness of God cannot 
 be reconciled with His permission of evil. God, we are 
 told, placed man in circumstances in which it was 
 inevitable that he should sin. What should we say of 
 a father who acted in this way ? Should we not say 
 that he was an accomplice in the evil act ? Now, this 
 objection assumes that we can apply to God precisely 
 the same line of reasoning that we apply to man. But, 
 in the case of an infinite being, whose mind cannot be 
 completely understood by us, we must be content to 
 show that the permission of evil is not necessarily 
 incompatible with perfect justice. In the absence of 
 complete knowledge of the mind of God, we must fall 
 back upon general reasons. We know that God has to 
 pay regard to the good of the whole universe, all the 
 
 Th^odicie, Sec. 23, p. 486. 
 
4IO PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 parts of which are connected in the unity of a single 
 system ; and we must conclude that, seeing things in 
 an infinity of relations, He judged that it was not 
 consistent with the perfection of the whole to prevent 
 evil. The fact that evil exists implies that it must be 
 consistent with absolute goodness, justice and holiness ; 
 and this conclusion must hold, although we cannot show 
 d priori what are the reasons which God had for per- 
 mitting it. The objections to the compatibility of evil 
 with the divine goodness are mere probabilities, which 
 cannot stand for a moment against the demonstrable 
 truth that God exists and is infinitely wise and just. 
 Some thinkers fall back upon the doctrine that what 
 we call justice has no meaning when applied to God ; 
 and hence they say that God, as the absolute Lord of 
 all things, may condemn the innocent without violating 
 His justice. But this view is virtually a denial of God, 
 for how could such a being be distinguished from the 
 Evil Principle ? There is no need for such a heroic 
 treatment of the difficulty. We are not called upon to 
 renounce reason as the sole means of preserving faith ; 
 to " put out our eyes in order to see more clearly " : all 
 that is necessary is to hold that what seems to be 
 contrary to reason is only apparently contrary to it. 
 Nor is there anything irrational in such a view : even in 
 the case of natural phenomena, we have to go beyond 
 the appearances of sense in order to get at the real 
 truth of things. It is only appearances which can be 
 adduced as incompatible with the goodness and justice 
 of God.^ 
 
 Bayle pretends to be defending faith at the expense 
 of reason. As we have seen, he really destroys the 
 foundation of all truth, inasmuch as he denies the 
 absoluteness of the principle of contradiction. It is 
 
 * TkiodicSe^ Sees. 32, 34-8, pp. 488-91. 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 411 
 
 also worth remarking that what he adduces as a triumph 
 of faith over reason is in part a triumph of rational 
 demonstration over sophistry. The Manichaean denial 
 of the absolute goodness of God is hardly more opposed 
 to Revealed than to Natural Theology. It cannot be 
 denied that there is in the world both physical and 
 moral evil, and that physical evil is not always distri- 
 buted in proportion to moral evil, as justice seems to 
 demand. The problem therefore remains for Natural 
 Theology to explain how a single Principle, all-wise, 
 all-good and all-powerful, can be reconciled with the 
 existence of evil, especially moral evil, and with the 
 happiness of the wicked and the unhappiness of the good. 
 Now, we have no need of revelation to be assured that 
 there is a single Principle of all things, and that this 
 Principle is perfectly wise and good. Reason is able to 
 establish this truth by infallible demonstration ; and 
 hence all objections drawn from the course of natural 
 events, in which imperfections are observed, rest merely 
 upon appearances. If we could contemplate the universe 
 in its completeness, we should see that what we are 
 tempted to regard as a defect is in reality essential 
 to the whole : we should, in fact, not only believe, but 
 see, that all is for the best, — i.e. we should not merely 
 observe the products of divine wisdom, but we should 
 also have an insight into the reasons which have led to 
 them. The actual condition of human knowledge is 
 well expressed by St. Paul when he says that " we walk 
 by faith and not by sight." We know by demonstra- 
 tion that God is absolutely wise, and we learn by 
 experience that evil exists ; thus we are forced to 
 conclude that infinite wisdom is compatible with the 
 existence of evil. We cannot in all cases demand that 
 nothing should be admitted to be true except that of which 
 we have an " adequate conception," i.e. a conception 
 
412 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 which involves nothing that we cannot explain. 
 Even in the region of our ordinary sensible experience, 
 there are many things which we must accept as facts 
 without being able to explain them. Thus, we perceive 
 things to have such qualities as heat, light, and sweet- 
 ness, but we cannot explain why they have these 
 qualities. The same thing holds good in regard to the 
 truths of faith. To have an "adequate notion" of 
 these, we should require to be omniscient It is 
 enough that we can make them intelligible to ourselves 
 by analogy, so that in speaking of such doctrines as the 
 Trinity and the Incarnation we may not use words 
 which are destitute of all meaning. To suppose that 
 the terms we make use of have no meaning — that e.g. 
 justice in God differs toto coelo from justice in man — is 
 pure scepticism. Those who dispute as to whether 
 there is one ultimate Principle of the universe which is 
 absolutely good, or whether there are two Principles, 
 the one good and the other evil, must agree in what 
 they mean by the terms "good" and "evil," or there is 
 no real dispute and no possibility of resolving it. 
 When we speak of the union of the soul and the body, 
 we understand what is meant by the term " union." 
 In the same way, when we speak of the union of the 
 Logos with human nature, we understand what is meant 
 though we cannot explain how this union takes place. 
 In this case, where we are dealing with the super- 
 sensible, we must be content with analogical knowledge, 
 such as a comparison of the union of soul and body is 
 competent to give. Just as the soul is in the most 
 intimate union with the body, while yet the laws of the 
 one are independent of the laws of the other, so we 
 must say that in the Incarnation there was the most 
 intimate union of Creator and creature. This is the 
 general principle which we must apply to all the 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 413 
 
 mysteries of faith. We know what is (rl eVri), but we 
 do not know how it is (Trwy). The " how " is reserved 
 for God alone : the " what " is knowable by us.^ 
 
 So far Leibnitz has merely sought to show that there 
 can be no contradiction between reason and revealed 
 religion ; his next aim is to construct a self-consistent 
 system of natural theology. The main problems which 
 he discusses are, how the absoluteness of God can be 
 reconciled with human freedom, and the goodness of 
 God with the existence of physical and moral evil. 
 The difficulties may be thus stated. In the first place, 
 the freedom of man seems to be incompatible with the 
 divine nature, and yet freedom is necessary if man is to 
 be regarded as morally responsible and worthy of punish- 
 ment. In the second place, even if the freedom of man 
 is granted, God seems to have a share in the production 
 of evil, and this appears to be contrary to the divine 
 goodness, holiness and justice.^ 
 
 The difficulties which arise from a consideration of 
 the freedom of man may be summarized as follows : 
 The prescience of God, it may be said, renders the future 
 absolutely certain and determined ; for prescience implies 
 preordination, and preordination is the willing of all 
 events, including the volitions of man. Thus it would 
 seem that, whether man's acts are good or evil, he has 
 no power to do otherwise ; from which it appears to 
 follow that he is worthy neither of reward nor of 
 punishment. But this conclusion destroys morality, and 
 is the denial of all justice, both human and divine. 
 Again, even if human freedom is admitted, many diffi- 
 culties still remain. When man wills evil, the whole 
 reality or substance of his act, it is said, is produced 
 by God, since from Him finite beings receive all the 
 
 1 Thiodicie^ Sees. 43-4, 54-6, pp. 491-2, 494. 
 '^Ibid, Sec. i, p. 504. 
 
414 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 reality they possess ; whence it is inferred that God is 
 the real cause of human actions, since He acts with 
 absolute freedom, and with a perfect knowledge of all 
 the consequences which must flow from His act. Nor 
 is it any answer to say that God does not produce the 
 acts of man, but merely consents to their production by 
 man ; for the evil act could not take place without the 
 divine consent, and even without some predetermination 
 on the part of God. From this it seems to follow that 
 God is indifferent to good and evil, unless we fall back 
 upon the doctrine of the Manichaeans that there are 
 two Principles, the one good and the other evil. More- 
 over, in the ordinary doctrine of theologians and 
 philosophers, conservation is a continual creation, and 
 hence God is continually creating beings who are 
 corrupt and sinful. A way of escape from some of 
 these difficulties may be sought by saying that the 
 concurrence of God in the evil acts of man does not 
 mean that God wills evil, but only that He permits it. 
 But to this it is replied that God must have known all 
 that would follow when He placed man in certain 
 circumstances. Man is exposed to a temptation to 
 which it is known that he will succumb ; it is known 
 that by his fall the whole human race will be infected 
 with evil, and thus put under a sort of necessity of 
 sinning ; that death and other evils will be introduced, 
 with all the misery and wretchedness which ordinarily 
 affect the good and bad alike ; that vice will prevail 
 and virtue be oppressed ; and it thus seems hard to 
 believe that any Providence governs the course of 
 events. These difficulties are very much increased 
 when we consider the life to come, since only a small 
 number of men will be saved, while all the rest will 
 perish eternally. Moreover, those who are destined to 
 salvation are rescued from the corrupt mass by an 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 415 
 
 irrational election ; and this holds good whether we 
 say that God, in choosing them, has had regard to their 
 future good acts, their faith or their works, or that He 
 has endowed them with good qualities because He has 
 predestined them to salvation. Even if we say that 
 God desires to save all men, and has caused His Son to 
 take upon Him the nature of man, in order to atone for 
 their sins, so that all who believe in Him shall be saved ; 
 it yet remains true, that faith in Him is a gift of God, 
 that man is dead to all good works, that a prevenient 
 grace must operate upon his will, and that God gives 
 to him the will and the deed. Thus, whatever view we 
 take, we must at last admit that God is the ultimate 
 reason of salvation, grace, faith and election. Whether 
 we say that election is the cause or the consequence of 
 the design of God, it remains true, that He gives faith 
 or salvation to whomsoever it seems good to Him, 
 without any reason for His choice, and that His choice 
 falls only upon a small number of men.^ 
 
 In seeking to show that these difficulties are not 
 unanswerable, Leibnitz begins by saying that the 
 conception of God as an absolute ruler, exercising 
 despotic power over all His creatures, is a conception 
 unworthy of the true nature of God, who is not properly 
 an object of fear, but of love. His aim will therefore 
 be to remove the false ideas which prevent men from 
 having a knowledge of His perfections, and therefore of 
 experiencing for Him that love which His perfections 
 are fitted to call forth, and that blessedness which falls 
 to those who love Him.^ 
 
 God is the ultimate reason or explanation of 
 things ; for those things which are finite, as are all 
 that we see and experience, are contingent, having 
 
 ^ Tkiodicie^ Sees. 2-5, pp. 504-5. 
 ^Ibid. Sec. 6, pp. 505-6. 
 
4i6 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 nothing in them which renders their existence neces- 
 sary. The contingency of finite things compels us to 
 seek for the reason of the existence of the world, i.e. 
 of the entire assemblage of contingent things, and 
 this we can find only in a Being who is self-subsistent, 
 or contains within himself the reason of his own 
 existence, — a Being who is therefore necessary and 
 eternal. This Cause must also be intelligent ; for the 
 world which exists being contingent, and an infinity 
 of other worlds being equally possible and, so to 
 speak, equally claiming to exist, the Cause of the 
 world must stand in relation to all these possible 
 worlds, in order to determine one of them. Now, this 
 relation of an existing substance to simple possibilities 
 can be nothing else than an Intelligence which has 
 ideas of them, and the determination of one of them 
 can be nothing but the act of will which chooses 
 them. It is the power of this Being which renders 
 his will efficacious. Power has reference to existence, 
 wisdom or intelligence to truth, and will to goodness. 
 This Intelligence must be infinite in all its modes, 
 and absolutely perfect in power, wisdom and good- 
 ness, since it has reference to all that is possible. 
 As all things are intimately connected, there is no 
 reason for holding more than one intelligence. The 
 intelligence of God is the source of essences, His will 
 is the origin of existences. Now this supreme wisdom, 
 combined with a goodness no less infinite, cannot 
 fail to choose the best. For as a less degree of evil 
 is a kind of good, so a less degree of good is a 
 kind of evil, in so far as it prevents a greater good. 
 If, of all the possible worlds, none was better or 
 worse than another, God would not have produced 
 any. The world which He has produced we must 
 therefore regard as the best possible, since He does 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 417 
 
 nothing which is not in accordance with supreme 
 wisdom. Should any one object that the world might 
 have been without moral and physical evil, Leibnitz 
 answers that such a world would not have been the 
 best. It must be observed that, in any possible world, 
 all the parts must be systematically connected. Hence 
 the absence of the least evil which takes place in the 
 world would change its whole character.^ 
 
 No doubt we cannot show in detail that a world 
 in which evil exists is the best possible, — for how can 
 we grasp an infinity of particulars and compare them 
 with one another? — but we are entitled to infer from 
 the fact that God has chosen this world that it is 
 the best possible. We can, however, show generally 
 that the difficulties arising from the existence of evil 
 are not insoluble.^ 
 
 The main difficulty arises from the existence of 
 physical and moral evil. In regard to these forms 
 of evil we must say, that the best possible world, 
 as it lay before the divine intelligence, included evil, 
 and this it was which determined God to permit 
 it.3 
 
 But why, it may be objected, do you speak of God 
 " permitting evil "? If God is the author of all things, 
 must we not say that He wills it, not merely that 
 He permits it? To answer this question, we must 
 first explain the nature of will. Speaking generally, 
 we may say that will consists in *'the inclination 
 to do something in proportion to the good which it 
 contains," The will is called '* antecedent " when 
 it has reference to each good apart in so far as it 
 is good In this sense we may say that God is 
 inclined to all good in so far as it is good. He 
 
 '^ThiodicUi Sees. 7-9, p. 506. "^ Ibid. Sec. 10, pp. 506-7. 
 
 ^ Ibid, Sees. 20-1, pp. 509-10. 
 
 2D 
 
41 8 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 has a serious inclination to save all men, and to 
 exclude evil. This " antecedent " will would be 
 realized, were there not stronger reasons to prevent 
 its realization. Such realization, however, belongs 
 
 J only to will " consequent," which results from the 
 concourse of all particular volitions. We may com- 
 pare it to the resultant of composite movements in 
 mechanics. Adopting this distinction, we may say 
 that God desires the good antecedently and the best 
 consequently. We cannot say that God desires moral 
 evil at all, nor does He desire physical evil absolutely. 
 There is no absolute predestination to moral evil, and 
 physical evil God desires either as a penalty for sin 
 or as the means of preventing greater evil or secur- 
 ing greater good. We must carefully distinguish 
 between moral and physical evil. It is true that 
 moral evil may be the means of securing a good or 
 
 4 preventing an evil, but we cannot admit that either 
 the divine or human will may do evil in order that 
 good may result. Moral evil can never be willed by 
 God, but can only be permitted. This may be partly 
 understood by an analogy. Thus, an officer whose 
 duty it is to guard an important post cannot leave 
 it in order to prevent two soldiers from killing each 
 other. His permission of evil is the consequence of 
 his regard for the higher obligation of defending the 
 city. So God, always seeking the best, permits sin ; 
 for it would be contrary to His wisdom, goodness, 
 and perfection if He did not follow the result of all 
 His tendencies to good, notwithstanding the evil which 
 is involved in willing the best.^ 
 
 It may be objected, however, that it is God Him- 
 self who acts in all cases, and hence that it is He 
 who does all that is real in the sin of the creature. 
 
 '^ Th^odic^e, Sees. 22-25, PP- S'^o-ii. 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 419 
 
 This objection brings us to a consideration of what 
 has been called the ** concurrence " of God. We must 
 accept the view of Augustine, that evil is a privation 
 of being. We may compare the relation of God and 
 finite beings to the force of a current upon a ship. 
 Just as the current communicates motion to the ship, 
 while the ship moves more or less swiftly according 
 as it is more or less heavily laden, so God produces 
 in created beings all the perfection or power which 
 they display, while their imperfection is due to their 
 nature as finite beings. Moral evil, therefore, is 
 not due to God, but to the absence of clear reason s^ 
 and force of will.^ " That which is real in the evil 
 action, the power to act, is perfect and good, and 
 comes from God : the negative or evil element in it 
 comes from the agent himself God is not responsible 
 for sin, for He has only permitted it, not willed it 
 directly, and man was already evil before he was 
 created. The fact that God foresaw that man would 
 sin does not constrain the latter to commit the evil 
 deed, but this follows from his nature as a finite 
 being, which God left unaltered when He granted 
 him existence." ^ 
 
 Moral evil, then, like error, consists in privation. 
 The will tends in general to the good : it seeks to 
 reach the perfection which is in consonance with it, and 
 supreme perfection is in God. All pleasure has in it 
 some feeling of perfection, but when the agent limits 
 himself to the willing of some lower pleasure, to the 
 prejudice of a greater good, his will is defective or evil. 
 Hence the truth of the saying, that " the cause of evil 
 is not efficient, but deficient." ^ 
 
 1 Thiodic4e, Sees. 29-30, p. 512. 
 
 2 Falckenberg's History of Modern Philosophy^ English tr. p. 291. 
 ^Tk^odic^y Sec. 33, p. 513. 
 
420 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 Besides the objection that God is the cause of the 
 evil acts of finite beings, it has been urged that the 
 " concurrence " of God is incompatible with the freedom 
 of man. That which is foreseen, it is said, cannot fail 
 to exist, and hence, if God foresees the actions of man, 
 these must be necessary. But it must be pointed out 
 that our volitions are not necessary in the sense that 
 their opposite implies a contradiction ; they are only 
 conditionally necessary. To one who knows all the 
 motives by which a certain man will in certain circum- 
 stances be actuated, what he will do can be foreseen ; 
 but it is none the less true that his act will be free. 
 The foreknowledge of God does not determine the act. 
 The act does not take place because it is foreseen : it 
 takes place only because it is willed.-^ 
 
 To this it may be objected, that, although the fore- 
 knowledge of God does not determine the act, yet 
 nothing which does not occur in a fixed way can be 
 foreseen. This objection is not so formidable as it 
 looks. We must distinguish between the two great 
 principles of reason, (i) the principle of contradiction, 
 which affirms that of two contradictory propositions the 
 one is true, the other false, and (2) the principle of 
 determinant reason, which affirms that nothing ever 
 takes place without a reason sufficient to account for it. 
 The former principle applies only to truths which are 
 absolutely necessary, as that 2 H- 2 = 4 ; the latter 
 principle applies to all events, and we must not attempt 
 to preserve freedom by exempting our volitions from 
 its scope. The will is never led to choose a certain 
 course of action without a reason which prevails over 
 all other reasons. This principle applies to God as 
 well as to man ; God always chooses the best, because 
 there is a predominant reason for His choice. But this 
 
 ^ Th^odicie, Sees. 37-8, p. 514. 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 421 
 
 by no means implies that He is under external 
 constraint ; other sequences of things are possible, and 
 when He chooses the best, it is only because He always 
 wills what is the greatest good. To suppose that to 
 will what is best is a defect, is a manifest absurdity, 
 leading to the conclusion that freedom consists in pure 
 caprice. The decree of God, therefore, consists solely 
 in His resolve to bring into existence the best of all the 
 possible worlds which are present to His intelligence. 
 It is thus manifest that His decree changes nothing in 
 the eternal constitution of things. Knowing the con- 
 stitution of things in all their particularity, He foresees 
 what finite beings will do under all circumstances, but 
 this in no way destroys the freedom of those beings.-^ 
 
 The system of preestablished harmony enables us to 
 see how there can be perfect spontaneity or freedom, 
 while yet an all-wise Being can foresee what acts will 
 take place. There never is any actual physical influence 
 of external things upon the soul. Scholastic philoso- 
 phers supposed that there is a reciprocal influence 
 between body and soul. Many modern thinkers, again, 
 observing that a thinking being and an extended mass 
 differ toto genere, have recognized that there is no physical 
 communication between them, though they are always 
 closely united, and constitute a single agent or person. 
 If there actually were a physical communication, the 
 soul by its volitions would be able to change the degree 
 of velocity and the line of direction of certain move- 
 ments which take place in the body ; and» conversely, 
 the body would be able to change the sequence of 
 thoughts which arise in the soul. Descartes tried to 
 explain the influence of the soul on the body by 
 maintaining that the former can change the direction of 
 the movements which take place in the body, just as a 
 ^ Thiodicie^ Sees, 44-5, 52, 54, pp. 515-8. 
 
422 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 rider, though he does not give to the horse he rides any 
 new force, may yet influence its direction. The Car- 
 tesian compromise is, however, plainly inadmissible, 
 and the illustration fails to prove what it was meant to 
 prove. The rider alters the direction of the horse by 
 means of the bridle, bit and spur, but the soul has no 
 material instruments by which it can change the 
 direction of the body. It is therefore no more possible 
 for the soul to change the line of direction of a bodily 
 movement than to change the quantity of energy which 
 the body possesses. This conclusion is made absolutely 
 certain by the discovery that, in any number of bodies 
 which act upon one another, there is a conservation of 
 direction as well as of energy. These facts compel us to 
 adopt the theory of a preestablished harmony between 
 soul and body. The physical influence of the one upon 
 the other is inconceivable, and hence we must hold that 
 while there is a perfect harmony between them there is 
 no actual communication. We must therefore maintain 
 that God has so created the soul that it produces, by 
 its own internal energy, ideas which correspond to the 
 changes which occur in the body, and He has so 
 created the body that it does of itself that which the 
 soul ordains. The soul acts from the idea of ends, and, 
 in accordance with the evolution of its own perceptions, 
 produces ideas which harmonize with the impressions of 
 external things upon the bodily organs ; while the move- 
 ments of the body, which follow in the order of efficient 
 causes, harmonize with the thoughts of the soul. On 
 this view, all the changes in the soul proceed from 
 itself, and therefore its activity is absolutely spontaneous. 
 It is no doubt true that there is an imperfection in the 
 constitution of the soul. All its changes proceed from 
 itself, but they do not all proceed from its will. For 
 there is not only an order of distinct perceptions, over 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 423 
 
 which it exercises sway, but also a sequence of confused 
 perceptions or passions. This imperfection, indeed, is 
 bound up with the finitude of the human soul, for if it 
 had nothing but distinct perceptions it would be 
 infinite. Even over confused perceptions the soul has 
 an indirect power ; though it cannot change its passions 
 directly, it can act upon them indirectly. So, in the 
 region of distinct perceptions the soul is able to give 
 itself indirectly new opinions and volitions, by seeking 
 for reasons by which rash judgments and evil volitions 
 may be changed.^ 
 
 So much in regard to moral evil. There is much 
 less difficulty when we come to consider physical evil. 
 The existence of physical evil we must regard as the 
 condition of greater good. It is to be observed that 
 the amount of suffering in the world is not so great 
 as it appears to discontented spirits to be. In 
 estimating the amount of good and evil we must reckon 
 on the positive side activity, health, and all those goods 
 the absence of which would be felt as an evil. Most 
 evils serve to secure for us a much greater good, or 
 to ward off a still greater evil; others must be regarded 
 as a punishment for sin and as a means of reformation. 
 " Especially if we consider the world as a whole, it 
 is evident that the sum of evil vanishes before the 
 sum of good. It is wrong to look upon the happiness 
 of man as the final cause of the world. No doubt God 
 had the happiness of rational beings in mind, but not 
 this exclusively, for they form only a part of the 
 world, even if it be the highest part. God's purpose has 
 reference rather to the perfection of the whole system 
 of the universe. The harmony of the universe requires 
 that all possible grades of reality be represented, that 
 there should be indistinct ideas, sense, and corporeality, 
 
 ^Thiodicie, Sees. 59-64, pp. 5 [9-20. 
 
424 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 not merely a realm of spirits ; and with these, con- 
 ditions of imperfection, feelings of pain, as well as 
 theoretical and moral errors, are inevitably given. The 
 connection and the order of the world demand a 
 material element in the monad, but happiness without 
 alloy can never be the lot of a spirit joined to a 
 body."^ 
 
 The main value of the philosophy of Leibnitz lies in 
 its clear statement of the opposite elements of existence 
 which demand reconciliation, and in its suggestive 
 adumbration of the manner in which they must be 
 combined. Everywhere he sees the necessity of recon- 
 ciling the self-activity of the individual with the com- 
 bination of all individuals in the unity of one world. 
 To attempt a detailed examination of his whole 
 philosophy would take us too far, and I shall therefore 
 limit myself to one or two points in his philosophy of 
 religion. 
 
 As we have seen, Leibnitz draws a strong distinction 
 between natural and revealed religion. This distinction 
 rests upon the opposition of that which transcends 
 reason and that which contradicts reason. If this 
 opposition were developed to its logical conclusion, 
 we should have to maintain that no revealed truth 
 can in any way be subjected to the criticism of reason, 
 but must be accepted even if it seems to contradict 
 reason. This, in fact, was the general view of the 
 Protestant theology of Leibnitz's day. j^ Leibnitz, how- 
 ever, virtually maintains that revealed truth must so 
 far submit to reason, that it cannot contradict itself, 
 or violate the necessary truths which reason reveals 
 to us. Thus it appears that whatever can be shown 
 to be necessary may be employed as a criterion by 
 which the truths of faith may be judged. It is only 
 
 ^ Falckenberg's History of Modern Philosophy ^ p. 290. 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 425 
 
 in so far as there are truths which are not necessary but 
 contingent that we can speak of the truths of faith 
 as transcending reason. The whole question, therefore, 
 comes to be, whether we can consistently maintain the 
 opposition between necessary and contingent truths. 
 Now, I do not think that the distinction of two kinds 
 of truth is one which will bear the test of criticism./ 
 Leibnitz assumes that the foundation of all necessary 
 truth is pure thought and that thought always proceeds 
 by the principle of identity. Thus, having the con- 
 ception of a triangle, I find by analysis that its three 
 angles are equal to two right angles. This sounds 
 plausible until we begin to ask upon what the con- ^ 
 ception itself depends. Obviously it depends upon 
 the nature of space as absolutely homogeneous, and the 
 homogeneity of space is only known to us in the 
 process by which we determine the facts of our 
 experience. Leibnitz has himself pointed out that 
 space is an abstraction, or has no meaning apart from 
 the relations of extended reality. Remove the con- 
 sciousness of particular objects, and space has no 
 reality whatever. Space is just one of the ways in 
 which reality, as known to us* in experience, is charac- 
 terized. If, therefore, we maintain, as Leibnitz does, 
 that all truths of experience are contingent, we must 
 include in that contingency the truths of geometry. 
 If, on the other hand, the truths of geometry are 
 necessary, we must maintain that the truths of experi- 
 ence are not contingent, so far at least as their geo- 
 metrical relations are concerned. It would thus seem 
 that we must either regard all knowledge as contingent, 
 or all as necessary ; and, in fact, the idea of contingent 
 truth is a self-contradictory conception : truth does not 
 admit of being divided into two kinds, and it is at 
 bottom tautological to say that all truth is necessary. 
 
426 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 To be true and to be necessary are the same thing. 
 Now, if the truths of geometry are necessary in the 
 sense that they state the conditions of knowable reality, 
 can we make an exception in the case of the physical 
 laws of nature ? I do not think that we can. It 
 is no doubt more difficult, in the complexity of par- 
 ticulars, to discover a physical than a geometrical law, 
 but the law, when it is discovered, must be regarded as 
 necessary. Here also whatever is true is necessary, 
 and can admit of no exception. 
 
 It thus seems to me that Leibnitz's distinction 
 of truths of reason and truths of fact cannot be 
 accepted. It is perfectly true that there are many 
 facts which, in the present state of our knowledge, 
 cannot be reduced to law : but if, as Leibnitz himself 
 maintains, the world is a system, we cannot admit that 
 these facts are beyond the range of law. But, while 
 we must deny the absolute distinction between truths 
 of faith and truths of reason, we may admit that there 
 is between them a relative distinction. So long as we 
 are dealing with the facts of experience from the point 
 of view of geometrical and physical law, we have only 
 an inadequate conception of what existence implies. 
 The highest conception of existence which we reach in 
 this way is that of a number of finite things, related to 
 one another in fixed ways, but yet standing apart from 
 one another. To reach anything like an adequate view of 
 the world, we have to view them in reference to the one 
 principle of unity through which alone all finite things 
 get meaning : we have, in other words, to view them in 
 reference to God. This is the central idea in all the 
 truths of faith. But this idea, as Leibnitz himself 
 admits, or rather contends, is one that our reason, in its 
 effort to explain the world, is capable of reaching. 
 We have therefore to ask how far Leibnitz's con- 
 
LEIBNITZ AND PROTESTANT THEOLOGY 427 
 
 ception of God and His relation to the world can be 
 accepted. 
 
 Starting from the contingency of the world as known 
 to us, Leibnitz is 1^4- to distinguish between the con- 
 ditional necessity of the order of nature and the 
 absolute necessity of metaphysical and mathematical 
 truths. The world that we know is conditionally 
 necessary, because it is only one of an infinite number 
 of possible worlds, and its existence is due to the 
 choice made by God of the best of these worlds. The 
 distinction thus drawn between the possible and the 
 actual can hardly be accepted. We can no doubt 
 distinguish in thought between what is and what might 
 be, so long as we fix our attention upon some particu- 
 lar aspect of existence ; but the moment we bring this 
 aspect into relation with the whole system of things, we 
 see that the only possible reality is that which is 
 capable of being actualized. Thus, we may say that it 
 is possible that the sun should not rise to-morrow ; 
 but, if we reflect upon what we mean, it becomes 
 obvious that our assertion amounts to this, that, pro- 
 vided the whole system of things admits of it, it is 
 possible that the sun may not rise to-morrow. The 
 idea of possibility, in short, must always be limited to 
 the possibility of the actual. We may, indeed, doubt 
 whether a thing is possible or not, but our doubt 
 depends upon our ignorance of the particular relations 
 of things. Were our knowledge complete, the only 
 possible would be the actual. It is thus obvious that 
 for a Being of infinite knowledge the possible and 
 the actual are coincident. The idea, therefore, of an 
 infinite number of worlds as lying before the divine 
 mind is a contradiction in terms ; and hence we cannot 
 admit the adequacy of the Leibnitzian conception of a 
 choice between these hypothetical worlds. To do so is 
 
428 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 simply to transfer to the divine mind the limitations of 
 the human mind. 
 
 But, while the form in which Leibnitz expresses 
 himself is inadequate, the idea which gives force to his 
 doctrine is essentially true. What he really means to 
 affirm is, that any criticism of existence which main- 
 tains that existence is fundamentally imperfect, is 
 contradictory of the very idea of God. All criticism 
 of existence which affirms its imperfection rests upon 
 the idea of a world which differs completely from the 
 world that we actually know. Such a conception 
 assumes that the world we know is, in part at least, 
 unintelligible ; for, so far as it is not rational, it must 
 be unintelligible. When we consider that the world 
 which is thus declared to be imperfectly rational, is a 
 world which has given birth to the rational beings who 
 so criticise it, it becomes obvious that we are maintain- 
 ing a self-contradictory doctrine. If the universe is 
 irrational, it cannot contain rational beings, and hence 
 the judgment of such beings must be irrational, and 
 can have no validity as applied to the universe as a 
 whole. The conception of an irrational universe is thus 
 a self-contradictory conception. Hence Leibnitz seems 
 to me substantially right, when he maintains that 
 whatever is must be consistent with the absolute per- 
 fection of the whole. But if so, it is obvious that he 
 can no longer maintain the conditional necessity of the 
 order of nature. There is no valid process of reasoning 
 by which we can pass from the conditionally necessary 
 to the morally necessary. If the world is the expres- 
 sion of an absolute reason, it is the only possible world, 
 and therefore the order of nature is necessary. It is 
 necessary just because it is the expression of an 
 absolute reason. Admit that the world is contingent, 
 and the whole basis of the inference to the perfection 
 
'S^DBJ JBpDpjBd JO AV3IA JO ^Uiod 
 
 pa^ituji 3q:j uiojj ;i savsia oqAV 3uo o^ ^uaSupuoD suiass 
 ^ ;Bqi *sim ST ^usSupuoD SI p|J0M 9q:t ;Bq; pves oq 
 UBD :ji qoiqAV uj 9su3s Xjuo aqx 'Xbaib uaj^Bij si poQ jo 
 
 6st AOOT:oaHX XMVxsaxoHJ aMv zxinlsmt 
 
LECTURE SIXTEENTH 
 
 GOD AND THE WORLD 
 
 Our historical studies have brought before us the 
 struggle through which theology has passed in its 
 effort to formulate the contents of the religious con- 
 sciousness. Religion implies the reality of a single 
 principle which unifies all existence, and therefore it is 
 natural that, in the transition to a new era of the world's 
 history, the very intensity of the consciousness of the 
 Infinite should threaten to extinguish the consciousness 
 of the Finite. Accordingly, in Philo and the Neo- 
 platonists God is conceived as beyond all definite 
 thought and expression, so that only by the transcend- 
 ence of reason in its normal exercise can man enter into 
 communion with Him. The influence of this mystical 
 conception on Christian theology is most clearly seen 
 in Gnosticism, but it also colours the religious philosophy 
 of Augustine, though in both, and especially in the 
 latter, the Christian conception of God as essentially 
 self- manifesting shines through the imperfect categories 
 in which it is sought to be expressed. In its subse- 
 quent history, Christian theology has never entirely 
 liberated itself from this mystical tinge, though in the 
 Middle Ages the predominant tendency, as exhibited 
 in such thinkers as Thomas Aquinas, was to subordinate 
 
GOD AND THE WORLD 43 1 
 
 reason to the authority of the Church, both in specula- 
 tion and practice. With the Reformation and the 
 Revival of learning, however, the principle of authority- 
 was virtually discarded, though even such thinkers as 
 Leibnitz show a disposition to revive the old opposition 
 of reason and revelation, in the hopeless endeavour to 
 reconcile the free movement of philosophy with the 
 inadequacies of the traditional creed. Such a device, 
 as I have ventured to argue, is neither necessary nor 
 advisable. It is not necessary, because Christianity 
 needs no defence but its intrinsic truth ; and it is not 
 advisable, for nothing can ultimately command the 
 assent of a rational being but that which is rational. 
 
 If I have succeeded in giving anything like a fair 
 account of the development of religious thought, and 
 especially of Christian thought, I think it will be con- 
 ceded that the conception of God which we have been 
 led to adopt, as the result of our independent investiga- 
 tion into the nature of religion, is in essential harmony 
 with that which was embodied in the life and teaching 
 of the Founder of Christianity. What I have tried to 
 prove is that the world is not a mere assemblage of 
 objects in space and time, externally related to one 
 another as reciprocally causative, but presupposes for 
 its explanation a single rational principle of which 
 nature is an expression, though an inadequate ex- 
 pression. Constructive Idealism therefore discards 
 Materialism as an obviously inadequate theory. On 
 the other hand, it refuses to accept the independent 
 reality of mind, maintaining that mind in us comes 
 to self-consciousness only in so far as it comprehends 
 the world as an embodiment of a supreme reason. 
 The doctrine of such thinkers as Herbert Spencer and 
 others, who first conceive of matter and mind as two 
 parallel but independent modes of being, and then 
 
432 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 seek to unite them through the conception of an 
 unknown Power of which both are the manifestation, 
 it rejects on the ground that an unknown Power cannot 
 be known to be manifested in the totality of our 
 experience, but especially in ouf own nature, as know- 
 ing, feeling, and willing. But while Constructive Idealism 
 thus affirms the objective reality of God, it refuses to 
 admit that He can be conceived as a separate and 
 independent Being standing apart from the world and 
 only acting externally upon it ; on the contrary, it 
 affirms that He is actually present in the world, and 
 above all in the self-conscious life of man, while yet 
 the infinite fulness of His being is not fully compre- 
 hended by us. It is not to be denied that in this 
 conception of God we seem to be combining ideas 
 that are usually supposed to be incompatible with one 
 another ; and, therefore, it seems advisable to distin- 
 guish clearly the conception of God as here maintained 
 from views which, however they may superficially 
 resemble it, are yet fundamentally different in principle. 
 The distinction between Constructive Idealism and 
 Agnosticism has already been indicated. For a certain 
 distance both pursue the same path and reach the 
 same point. It is maintained, as strongly by the 
 one as by the other, that nature is subject to inviol- 
 able law, and that the principle of the conservation 
 of energy may be regarded as the supreme principle 
 of nature. The distinction between the two doctrines 
 lies in the different way in which they conceive of the 
 relation between nature and mind. To the agnostic 
 there is no higher law known to us than that of 
 the conservation of energy ; and, therefore, while he 
 admits that the phenomena of consciousness cannot 
 be brought under that law, he yet affirms that we 
 must conceive the principle which accounts for both 
 
GOD AND THE WORLD 433 
 
 matter and mind as a power of which we can give 
 no further account. This attitude, as Constructive 
 Idealism maintains, is an unconscious admission of 
 the inadequacy of the scientific view of the world, 
 resting as it does upon a clear perception of the 
 truth that our own self-conscious life escapes from 
 the framework within which an attempt is made to 
 compress it. But just because he has assumed that 
 knowledge cannot advance to any higher conception 
 of the world than that employed by the special 
 sciences, the agnostic is forced to fall back upon an 
 inscrutable and unknowable Reality, of which we can 
 say no more than that it is. Constructive Idealism, 
 on the other hand, maintains that the law of the 
 conservation of energy is by no means the ultimate 
 category of knowledge : that living beings cannot 
 be comprehended unless we employ the conception 
 of immanent teleology, and that self-conscious beings 
 are unintelligible unless we recognize that there oper- 
 ates in them the same universal principle as accounts 
 for the universe as a whole. Hence it insists that 
 self-conscious reason is the true principle by which 
 all must ultimately be explained ; and that, so far 
 from that principle being unknowable by us, it is 
 the only principle which can, in the strict sense, be 
 said to be knowable at all, since every other breaks 
 down in contradiction, if it is supposed to be 
 ultimate. 
 
 While Constructive Idealism is thus positive where 
 Agnosticism is negative, it denies that the universe 
 can be properly regarded as containing a number of 
 independent beings, of whom God is one ; affirming 
 that no being can exist apart from God, and that 
 a God who is, as the personal idealist admits, finite 
 in power, if not in knowledge, does not correspond 
 
 2 E 
 
434 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 to the demand for an ultimate principle, without which 
 our reason refuses to be satisfied. That this denial 
 of the abstract individuality of God is not only con- 
 sistent with the freedom and personality of man, but 
 their necessary condition, I have already tried to show. 
 It may still, however, be objected that in seeking to 
 escape from Pluralism we have fallen into an abstract 
 Monism, which must assume the form either of 
 mysticism or of pantheism, both of which are fatal 
 to our higher interests. Has this charge any real 
 foundation ? 
 
 The peculiarity of Mysticism is, not that it em- 
 phasizes the relation of the individual soul to God — 
 other forms of the religious consciousness, such as the 
 Jewish religion and Calvinism, do the same — but that 
 it tends to abolish all other relations. In this sense 
 we may apply to it the condemnation which St. Paul 
 passed upon the Athenians, that they were " too 
 religious." When religion is conceived as the com- 
 plete fusion of the individual soul with God, instead 
 of spiritualizing life it is separated from life, and 
 becomes a purely contemplative absorption in the 
 Absolute. Further, Mysticism, just because it sepa- 
 rates God from the world, and even from the ordinary 
 consciousness of man, is unable to give any positive 
 characterization of the divine nature. God is the 
 absolute One, who is beyond being and beyond know- 
 ledge, so that in the religious consciousness even the 
 distinction of the conscious self from the self of 
 which it is conscious, disappears. The result is that 
 the nature of God is absolutely unthinkable and 
 unspeakable, and can only be experienced with the 
 whole being. To think is to define, and even if we 
 take thinking in its highest form as the consciousness 
 by the self of the self, we introduce definition, and 
 
GOD AND THE WORLD 435 
 
 therefore limitation ; for even self-consciousness is the 
 consciousness of the unity which is identical in all 
 modes of consciousness, or, in its purest form, the 
 unity of the subject as conscious, and of the subject 
 as an object of consciousness. For the mystic the 
 Absolute must be a Unity, in which all differences 
 are dissolved, even the difference of subject and 
 object ; and hence it cannot be adequately expressed 
 by saying that it is self-conscious. Thought, in short, 
 is a limited mode of apprehension, and as such it is 
 incompetent to grasp the Absolute. It is only, there- 
 fore, when in certain moments of special inspiration 
 the soul breaks away from the limits of its ordinary 
 thought, and surrenders itself to the Divine, that it 
 experiences what can neither be thought nor ex- 
 pressed. 
 
 Looked at superficially, Mysticism seems to be 
 identical with Agnosticism, in so far as Agnosticism 
 denies that we can have zxiy positive knowledge of the 
 Absolute. And no doubt, if we press Mysticism to its 
 logical consequences, it empties the Absolute of all 
 definiteness, and thus lapses into the pure Being which 
 Agnosticism expressly affirms. But we must recognise 
 that, while Agnosticism and Mysticism are thus in one 
 aspect identical, there is a fundamental difference in the 
 process by which each is reached, and, therefore, a funda- 
 mental difference in their implicit meaning. Agnosticism, 
 as we find it in Herbert Spencer and others, is essentially 
 a theory of the limitation of knowledge as based upon 
 the assumption of the absolute value for knowledge of 
 the scientific conception of the world — the conception 
 according to which the final determination of knowable 
 reality is the reduction of the world to a collection of 
 objects bound together by the principle of the Con- 
 servation of Energy, which is taken as ultimate. 
 
43^ PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 Hence, when any attempt is made to characterize 
 reality by a higher category, the agnostic is ready with 
 his answer, that the only view of the world which can 
 be verified scientifically is that which regards it as 
 under the dominion of physical law. Accordingly, 
 he is forced to deny knowledge of the Absolute, 
 because he recognizes that the Unity which science 
 introduces is only the unity of system, and leaves 
 our higher needs unexplained. Thus his denial of 
 all positive predicates to the Absolute is due to 
 his limited view of knowledge as confined to the 
 objective world. But Mysticism follows a totally 
 different course. It does not deny positive predicates 
 to the Absolute on the ground that the scientific view 
 of things is ultimate ; on the contrary, it regards the 
 whole sphere of scientific knowledge as concerned with 
 what is not in the highest sense real. The true life of 
 man is in his religious consciousness ; and for the reli- 
 gious consciousness it is the inner life that alone has 
 value. The scientific man, like the man of common 
 sense, it regards as living in the particular and finite, 
 while in truth the finite has no value in itself, but 
 presupposes a Unity which entirely transcends it. 
 Hence Mysticism, while it denies that God can be 
 known, does not adopt this attitude because, in its 
 view, the predicates of thought are really negative, 
 not positive, and but express the nature of that 
 which is wanting in the true characteristics of Being. 
 For, though it denies that we can know God, 
 i.e. can characterize Him by the partial and negative 
 attributes applicable to the finite, it claims that man is 
 not for ever shut out from God, as Agnosticism affirms, 
 but, on the contrary, that when he is most truly him- 
 self, when he rises above the finite, he comes into direct 
 communion with God. In God is all fulness : in Him 
 
GOD AND THE WORLD 437 
 
 is no finiteness, no transitoriness, no division ; and as 
 man's real nature is to be one with God, it is only when 
 he breaks through the limitations of his finite self — 
 which include his self-opposing consciousness — that he 
 experiences the Absolute. Thus in spirit Mysticism 
 is just the reverse of Agnosticism ; for, whereas the 
 former turns away from all secular interests, and seeks 
 to be filled with the divine, the latter concentrates itself 
 upon the finite and positive, denying that the infinite 
 can be brought within the circle of experience. 
 
 Now, the conception of the Infinite which I am 
 seeking to defend agrees with Mysticism in maintaining 
 that in communion with the divine man reaches the 
 true consummation of his being, all other modes of 
 consciousness being in various degree inadequate and 
 relative, and in holding that such communion is no 
 mere act of the intellect, but involves the response 
 of the whole man. The fundamental distinction, on 
 the other hand, between the two doctrines is, that 
 whereas for Mysticism the world of nature, and even 
 all the ordinary processes of knowledge and action, 
 are condemned as finite, and therefore as beyond or 
 beneath the sphere of the divine, Constructive Idealism 
 maintains that not the most infinitesimal atom of 
 matter or the faintest trace of feeling, not to speak 
 of the fair creations of imaginative genius or the solid 
 constructions of reflective thought, could possibly exist, 
 were they not involved in the Infinite and supported 
 by its continual presence and spiritual energy. It 
 contends that a world divorced from God is impossible 
 and inconceivable. Mysticism, separating the world 
 from God, is forced to fall back upon analogy, vainly 
 attempting, by heaping metaphor upon metaphor, to 
 give an air of plausibility to the doctrine that, while 
 God is absolutely complete in Himself apart from 
 
438 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 the world, the world is yet in some way dependent 
 upon Him. In contrast to this essentially irrational 
 doctrine, we maintain that the world is no arbitrary 
 product of the divine nature, nor can it be held that 
 God is complete in Himself independently of the 
 world. All being manifests Him, and without that 
 manifestation He could not be. There is no reality 
 which can be called finite, in the sense of that which 
 is separated from the infinite and exclusive of it. 
 What we call the finite is a particular phase of the 
 whole, viewed in its isolation, as if it could be without 
 the whole ; the finite, in other words, exists only for 
 a knowing subject that has not yet learned what is 
 really involved in its own experience. This, then, 
 is one of the fundamental points in which we differ 
 from the mystical view of the universe. Whereas 
 the latter first extrudes the world from the Absolute, 
 and then vainly seeks to restore it to its original 
 source, Constructive Idealism claims that no device 
 is needed to unite the finite to the Infinite, because 
 they have never been, and cannot possibly be, 
 separated. From all eternity and to all eternity, the 
 world is the self-manifestation of the Divine, and their 
 supposed separation is due to the dualistic modes of 
 thought inevitable in us, with our immersion in the 
 particular and our concentration on special tasks. 
 With Mysticism we sympathize to this extent, that 
 the first phase of the religious consciousness reveals 
 to us the nullity of all earthly things when they 
 are assumed to be self-complete, and the necessity 
 of referring them to the infinite ; but, on the other 
 hand, we insist that, unless we employ our vision 
 of the divine to illuminate and transform particulars, 
 we lay ourselves open to the objection, that in seeking 
 to honour the divine we really lower it by conceiving 
 
GOD AND THE WORLD 439 
 
 of it as shut out from that which has no being 
 otherwise than in it And there is another point 
 in which we must dissent from Mysticism : God is 
 not revealed to us in an ecstatic vision in which all 
 distinctions, including even the distinction of subject 
 and object, vanish away. This is a fatal misreading of 
 a truth which, as properly interpreted, is of great 
 importance and significance, the truth to which 
 reference has already been made, that the religious 
 consciousness involves the response of man's whole 
 nature to the divine. For, while this is true, it is 
 also true that the object of that consciousness exists 
 only for a being who is capable of grasping the 
 idea of the divine. Now, the idea of the divine, as 
 we maintain, implies the consciousness of the ultimate 
 principle which unifies all existence as manifesting 
 itself in and through our self-consciousness, which 
 itself is possible only in and through the consciousness 
 of the world. Hence, if it were possible for us to 
 transcend the distinction of self and not-self, as the 
 mystic affirms, we should at the same time destroy 
 the consciousness of the divine as the unity which 
 comprehends both. It is not true that the religious 
 consciousness at its highest degree of intensity ex- 
 tinguishes the light of reason ; on the contrary, just 
 in proportion to its intensity is our consciousness 
 of the unity of the world, the self, and God. 
 What misleads the mystic is, that, by the upward 
 movement of reason, especially when it assumes an 
 intuitive or unreflective form, we may finally reach 
 a point where, as in a vision, we see all things 
 illuminated and merged in the unity of the whole 
 though without losing their distinction. So engrossed 
 is the mystic in the consciousness of the divine, that 
 he loses sight of its manifestations, and thus confuses 
 
440 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 the absence of all abrupt contrasts with the elimi- 
 nation of all distinctions. But, while the religious 
 consciousness, like the higher forms of the artistic 
 consciousness, denies the validity of all insoluble 
 contradictions, it by no means dissolves reality in a 
 vague and indefinite being of which nothing can be 
 said but that it is ; on the contrary, it has the most 
 vivid perception of the world, the self, and God, but 
 of the world as inseparable from the self, and of 
 both as real only in God. Now, this is the truth 
 upon which Constructive Idealism insists ; maintaining 
 that, just as in its personal form religion is the 
 concrete and well-defined consciousness of God, so 
 the philosophy of religion explicitly states the 
 rational process implied in the ascent from the world 
 to the self, and from the self to God, pointing out 
 that the conceptions by which in our thought we 
 characterize the objects of our experience are but 
 the stages by which we advance to the ultimate 
 conception of the universe as in all its phases the 
 self-revelation of God. 
 
 It may seem, however, that in refusing to admit the 
 separation of God from the world and the self, we have 
 only escaped the defects of Mysticism by falling into 
 Pantheism. If the finite has no independent reality, 
 but is in the last analysis a phase or aspect of the 
 infinite, must we not hold that only God is, and 
 therefore that all other beings, including ourselves, are 
 but modes of the one and only Being ? 
 
 Before attempting to answer this question directly, 
 let us make clear to ourselves the distinction between 
 Mysticism and Pantheism. The most perfect philoso- 
 phical formulation of Pantheism is that given by 
 Spinoza. Thought and extension — or in more recent 
 terminology, nature and mind — are denied by Spinoza 
 
GOD AND THE WORLD 441 
 
 to have any separate and independent existence. There 
 cannot be, as he argues, more than one self-complete 
 and self-dependent Being, and this Being alone can 
 properly be said to have substantial or independent 
 existence. The assumed independence of the external 
 world and finite minds is therefore denied, and it is 
 affirmed that the totality of finite objects and of finite 
 minds have no reality in themselves, but exist only as 
 modes of the divine attributes of thought and extension. 
 Each of these attributes, as Spinoza tells us, is infinite; 
 and if it is objected that there cannot be two infinites, 
 he answers that there is nothing inconceivable in the 
 idea of two infinites, provided each is regarded as 
 infinite in its own kind. Now, extension and thought 
 are of this character. Thought, as he maintains, does 
 not limit extension, or extension thought, and therefore 
 there is nothing to prevent us from holding the infinity 
 at once of extension and thought. What Spinoza is 
 here insisting upon is the inseparability in the Absolute 
 of thought and being, nature and mind. He argues 
 that, if extension is denied of the infinite, we must also 
 deny thought of it, since the one is essentially cor- 
 relative to the other. Thought exists only as the 
 thinking of extension, and therefore to deny the reality 
 of either is to deny the reality of the other. The 
 infinite, then, is infinite, both in thought and extension. 
 The difficulty, however, arises, that if thought and 
 extension are mutually exclusive, it seems impossible 
 to maintain the unity of God. Spinoza's answer is, 
 that each completely expresses the infinite ; a solution 
 which is either merely verbal, or which only covers 
 over a fundamental dualism in the divine nature. 
 When we turn from the unity of the whole to the 
 distinction of the parts, we have to observe that 
 the seeming independence of these is an illusion. The 
 
442 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 essence of all external things is extension, and extension 
 cannot mark off one thing from another, since it has in 
 itself no parts, being absolutely continuous. It is 
 imagination which pictures extended beings as if they 
 were independent and complete, whereas the moment 
 we think them as they really are we see that they 
 cannot exist in separation from one another. And the 
 same line of argument shows that ideas are not really 
 separable, but constitute an unbroken chain. It is 
 imagination that represents them as separate units. 
 All so-called finite things and finite minds are really 
 modes of extension and thought, the two attributes of 
 the Absolute known to us. The finite is no doubt 
 real, but it is not real in itself, but only in the infinite: 
 it is, in fact, the infinite as arbitrarily limited by the 
 imagination and given a factitious independence. This 
 principle is applied in the most thoroughgoing way by 
 Spinoza, not only in explanation of nature, but of 
 human life : so that for him religion consists in viewing 
 our physical and spiritual being as having no reality, 
 except as parts of the whole. 
 
 As we may readily see from the summary of 
 Spinoza just given, there is a marked distinction 
 between Mysticism and Pantheism, due to a funda- 
 mental difference in their attitude to the universe. 
 The God of Mysticism transcends the world as far as 
 the infinite transcends the finite ; the God of Pantheism 
 is immanent in the world, or rather the world is 
 immanent in Him. It is just because the mystic 
 conceives of the world as essentially partial and limited, 
 that he refuses to admit that the Infinite is contained 
 in it. But Pantheism consists essentially in the 
 doctrine that the finite as such has no reality, while yet 
 it is real when it is viewed as it truly is, viz. as a 
 phase of the Infinite, which is present in every part of 
 
GOD AND THE WORLD 443 
 
 it, and in every part with equal fulness. Thus, while 
 Mysticism turns away from the world, which it regards 
 as finite, and therefore unreal, Pantheism finds in the 
 finite the true reality, or rather it denies that the world 
 is finite to one who truly comprehends it. Thus there 
 is a twofold movement in Pantheism : that by which it 
 takes away from the so-called finite its apparent inde- 
 pendence, and that by which it reaffirms it as a phase 
 of the Infinite. In Spinoza, the great representative of 
 philosophical Pantheism, both these aspects are clearly 
 stated ; for, on the one hand, he denies that the finite 
 as such has any positive reality, and, on the other hand, 
 he asserts that it is real as a phase in that totality of 
 being which he calls Nature or God. Pantheism, there- 
 fore, does not, like Mysticism, turn away from the 
 world of ordinary experience, to seek for the Absolute 
 in a transcendent sphere ; it agrees with Agnosticism in 
 seeking for the real within the realm of ordinary 
 experience, and by the exercise of reason. Its con- 
 tention is that when reason has done its perfect work, 
 it becomes evident that the apparent independence of 
 the finite is an illusion, due to the character of our 
 imaginative faculty. Hence Spinoza maintains that, 
 by the exercise of thought, we can discover the true 
 nature of the Absolute in the world of our experience. 
 Thus we are enabled to see that the whole material 
 world is one form in which the one Unity is expressed, 
 as the whole mental world is another form, in which 
 it is equally expressed. If it is objected that this 
 division destroys the undivided Unity of the whole, 
 since it makes Matter and Mind co-ordinate, it is 
 replied that these are distinctions, not separations ; and 
 when the difficulty is pressed still more closely, the 
 answer is made that in the Absolute they are identical, 
 though the limitation of our thought forces us to 
 
444 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 distinguish them. Spinoza even goes so far as to say, 
 that in the Absolute there is an infinity of attributes, 
 each one of which expresses it in its wholeness. In 
 this last conception, Spinoza comes closest to Mysti- 
 cism ; for he is forced to admit that the only forms 
 in which we have knowledge of God are those of 
 extension and thought, and therefore his doctrine 
 of the infinity of attributes obviously carries us 
 beyond the ordinary operations of thought, and 
 compels us to ta-ke refuge in some form of direct 
 intuition. But while in this respect Spinoza approaches 
 the ecstasy of the mystic, there always remains the 
 fundamental difference, that the former denies all reality 
 to the finite as such, but reaffirms its reality as a mode 
 of the infinite ; while the latter affirms the reality of the 
 finite as such, but refuses to admit that it is immanent 
 in the infinite. 
 
 We are now in a better position for understanding 
 the distinction between Constructive Idealism and 
 Pantheism. The point of agreement between them is 
 that both affirm that the world can have no reality 
 apart from God, and therefore that the finite as such 
 has no existence. But in two respects they differ 
 fundamentally. In the first place, Pantheism conceives 
 of the divine as equally manifested in nature and in 
 mind. To this conclusion it is impelled by its method 
 of abstracting from the differences of things, as if they 
 were superficial and unessential, and in this way 
 reducing the universe to the two great antithetical 
 distinctions of matter and mind, equally related to a 
 single permanent and unchanging substance. Hence 
 the universe may with equal propriety be called by it 
 either God or Nature. For, if mind is no clearer 
 revelation of the divine than matter, obviously the 
 characteristic differences of mind must be left out of 
 
GOD AND THE WORLD 445 
 
 account as unessential. Now, Constructive Idealism, 
 while it agrees with Pantheism that matter and mind 
 are both manifestations of the divine, denies that they 
 manifest it in equal degree. The reason for this denial 
 will be obvious, if we recall the steps by which the 
 ascent is made from the first superficial view of reality, 
 as a collection of particular things only externally 
 related to one another, to the final conception of it as 
 the self- manifestation of a Supreme Intelligence. The 
 first step beyond the apparent independence of particu- 
 lar things is made by science, which brings to light the 
 bonds by which they are related to one another in the 
 single system of nature. The next step consists in 
 revealing the organic unity of the world in the whole 
 process of its development, a process which is inexpli- 
 cable without the conception of the harmony of external 
 nature with all beings that live. Beyond this stage 
 we are now compelled to advance to a third by the 
 presence in the universe of beings by whom all other 
 forms of being are capable of being known, and in whom 
 the rationality, working more obscurely in those forms, 
 comes to self-consciousness. The last step of all is the 
 comprehension of the whole as the expression of an 
 absolutely rational principle. Now, it is plain from 
 this summary that Constructive Idealism cannot admit 
 that the Divine is expressed with the same degree of 
 fulness in each of the stages mentioned ; on the con- 
 trary, while man can never escape from the conscious- 
 ness, implicit or explicit, of the divine principle which 
 gives meaning to his experience, it is only when that 
 principle is grasped in its complete and final manifesta- 
 tion that it reveals itself as self-conscious and rational. 
 It is because Pantheism is contented with the first 
 vague consciousness of the divine as the unifying 
 principle of all modes of being, that it fails to determine 
 
446 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 it as not merely a unity, but as self-conscious and 
 rational. Constructive Idealism, on the other hand, 
 clearly grasping the truth that the physical world has 
 no independent being, but is merely a phase in the life 
 of mind, refuses to see in it the final revelation of the 
 divine ; and therefore it affirms that while the divine 
 presupposes and manifests itself in the external world, 
 its true nature is only disclosed in and to man, 
 because he alone finds that in comprehending himself 
 he is comprehending the ultimate principle of all that 
 is. And therefore, in the second place, Constructive 
 Idealism does not, like Pantheism, rob the finite of its 
 reality, but maintains it, while reconciling it with the 
 reality of the divine. This reconciliation it is able to 
 effect by showing that true individuality does not 
 consist in separation from all other reality, but in a 
 self-activity which is realized through the comprehen- 
 sion and idealization of what at first seems opposed to 
 it. Thus the most self-active form of knowledge does 
 not consist in the contemplation of one's own separate 
 being, but in the expansion of one's individuality over 
 the widest area ; just as the highest self-activity in the 
 form of practice consists in the widest possible sym- 
 pathy and union with others. When this principle is 
 clearly grasped, it becomes evident that neither by 
 isolation from the world nor by absorption in the 
 whole can true individuality be realized ; but that the 
 intensest individual life is only possible in and through 
 the completest transcendence of abstract personality. 
 The Christian principle, " Die to live," may thus be 
 taken as a universal formula, applicable not merely to 
 the moral and spiritual life, but expressing as well the 
 principle of knowledge. And this is the principle that 
 must be applied in determination of the divine nature, 
 which must be conceived, not as self-centred and self- 
 
GOD AND THE WORLD 447 
 
 enclosed, but as pouring itself forth in infinite prodi- 
 gality in every element of the universe, and in this 
 absolute self-surrender realizing its own absolute 
 personality. 
 
 I think this is the authentic sign and seal 
 
 Of Godship, that it ever waxes glad, 
 
 And more glad, until gladness blossoms, bursts 
 
 Into a rage to suffer for mankind, 
 
 And recommence at sorrow : drops like seed 
 
 After the blossom, ultimate of all. 
 
 Say, does the seed scorn earth and seek the sun? 
 
 Surely it has no other end and aim, 
 
 Than to drop, once more die into the ground, 
 
 Taste cold, and darkness, and oblivion there : 
 
 And thence rise, tree-like grow through pain to joy. 
 
 More joy and most joy, — do man good again. 
 
LECTURE SEVENTEENTH 
 
 GOD AND MAN 
 
 In my last lecture I tried to free the idea of God from 
 certain one-sided views which destroy its purity and 
 lead to insoluble contradictions ; in the present lecture 
 I propose to consider the relation of man to God, 
 dealing more particularly with the problem of evil, 
 as apparently in absolute antagonism to a Being 
 who is infinite in holiness as well as in knowledge 
 and power and incapable of being transcended. In 
 seeking for a solution of this problem, it will be 
 convenient to consider the different views of evil 
 which follow from the Mystical and the Pantheistic 
 conceptions of God, contrasting with them the 
 doctrine which results from the conception to which 
 we have been led as the result of our whole inquiry. 
 The fundamental mistake of Mysticism, as we have 
 contended, is to turn away from the concrete wealth of 
 the knowable world, seeking for true reality in a trans- 
 cendent realm, into which no one can penetrate by the 
 exercise of his ordinary faculties. The mystic is thus 
 led to deny that God can be grasped by thought, and 
 to fall back upon a super-rational intuition, in which 
 the whole being is conceived to be so filled with the 
 divine that no definitely articulated object is presented 
 
GOD AND MAN 449 
 
 to the mind. In the apprehension of the Infinite not 
 only do all the ordinary distinctions of one object from 
 another disappear, but even the most fundamental of 
 all distinctions — that between the conscious subject 
 and the object of his consciousness. In thus seeking 
 to exalt the Infinite, Mysticism really empties it of all 
 meaning ; for with the removal of all definiteness, the 
 ultimate Reality is identified with the abstraction of 
 pure Being, an abstraction so utterly empty and dead, 
 that it only differs from pure Nothing as the idea 
 of unrealized or potential reality differs from the 
 absence of all reality. And if the mystic finds in 
 this emptiest and poorest of all abstractions an inex- 
 pressible wealth of meaning, that is only because he 
 vaguely endows it with a mysterious depth and 
 complexity which properly belongs only to an Infinite 
 that stands at the opposite pole of thought, and is 
 therefore absolutely concrete. God, in other words, is 
 only comprehended as He truly is when it is seen that 
 He is manifested in every element of the rich and 
 varied universe ; and this comprehension is possible for 
 us only as we pass through the whole of the stages of 
 knowledge, enriching our thought at each step in our 
 upward progress. 
 
 The false separation of the Infinite and the finite, 
 God and the world, which is the irpwTov y^€uSo9 of 
 Mysticism, could not but lead to an imperfect compre- 
 hension of human life, and especially to a false 
 conception of the nature and relations of evil and 
 goodness. In the case of the Christian mystics, who 
 lived in the faith that God is Love, the doctrine was 
 not allowed to do its perfect work ; but even they do 
 not display that impassioned devotion to the good of 
 all which is the distinctive mark of the Christian 
 consciousness in its integrity, and are prone to forget 
 
 2F 
 
4SO PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 the evil of the world in the luxury of mystical contem- 
 plation. It is, however, in such a thinker as Plotinus 
 that we can best see the inevitable consequences of 
 separating the Infinite from the finite, and thus giving 
 an apparent reality to the finite in its isolation. In his 
 viGw the material world cannot, strictly speaking, be real ; 
 for nothing is real but God. Now, a world that is thus 
 opposed to the only true reality must necessarily be 
 wanting in reality, and if we followed out the idea to 
 its full logical consequences, we should even have to 
 deny that it had reality in any sense whatever. But 
 Plotinus was not prepared to convert the world into a 
 pure illusion ; and hence he conceives of it as defective 
 or partially unrealized being, in contradistinction from 
 God, in whom there is no defect or unreality. The 
 material world is therefore evil, because it is defective, 
 or partially unreal. Now, it is to be observed that 
 this characteristic attaches to matter absolutely : 
 no possible process can convert it into good, because 
 it is essentially defective. Here we come upon the 
 fundamental defect of the whole doctrine. If the 
 material world is infected with an insuperable limit, 
 by no possibility can it be shown to be compatible 
 with the existence of an infinitely perfect Being. We 
 must therefore either deny that it proceeds from God, 
 or maintain that God will not, or cannot, bring it into 
 harmony with the good. Thus, by a curious irony, 
 the mystic, in his eagerness to exalt the Infinite above 
 the Finite, really degrades it. 
 
 But it is especially in relation to the higher life of 
 man that this conception of matter as defect or negation 
 shows its baneful influence. The earthly life is regarded 
 as one in which a being, whose true life is in union with 
 the absolute, is tied to a physical organism which, as a 
 mode of matter, is essentially evil. On such a theory, 
 
GOD AND MAN 451 
 
 obviously, the only means by which the soul can be 
 restored to its original union with the divine is by the 
 suppression of all the natural desires ; since these are 
 held to arise from the transference to finite objects of that 
 intense longing after union with the Absolute which is 
 the soul's true nature. Nothing less than the annihila- 
 tion of these desires can bring satisfaction ; for the 
 desires, as strivings after purely individual satisfaction, 
 are diametrically opposed to the longing for absolute 
 union with the whole. Thus, ultimate satisfaction can 
 only come from complete separation of the soul from 
 the body. On such a theory, practical morality, as 
 concerned with the relations of men to one another, all 
 of whom are equally imprisoned in a body, cannot be 
 more than a stage towards that intellectual emancipa- 
 tion from all finite interests, which leads first to the 
 pure contemplation of the Absolute, and finally to com- 
 plete absorption in it through a mystical ecstasy. It is 
 thus evident that the conception of matter as essentially 
 evil must in the end lead to the annihilation of morality. 
 When man has reached the goal of his efforts there is 
 nothing left for him but to enjoy the bliss of absolute 
 union with the divine. To return to the sphere of 
 practical effort would be to lose the fruition of his 
 efforts. Thus we have a form of religion which is at 
 war with morality. For, morality consists essentially 
 in the organization of the various interests by which 
 men are enabled to turn nature into the means of 
 realizing their ideals ; and in a theory which regards 
 these interests as in contradiction to their true life, 
 there is obviously no place for such organization. 
 
 When Plotinus tells us that the fall of man is the 
 result of self-will, or the attempt to realize the purely 
 individual self, he virtually admits that the material 
 world is not evil in itself, but only becomes evil when it 
 
452 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 is made the instrument for the realization of selfish 
 ends. At the same time, he never gets rid of the false 
 presupposition which leads him to conceive of matter as 
 in essential antagonism to spirit. Unity, as he always 
 assumes, is absolutely incompatible with difference. 
 For this reason he is unable to see how the Infinite can 
 manifest itself in the finite without losing its unity, or 
 how the finite can come into harmony with the Infinite 
 without being absorbed in it. In its present applica- 
 tion, this preconception leads to the identification of 
 self-will with the pursuit of definite ends. Thus, to 
 seek for wealth or honour seems to Plotinus the sanie 
 thing as self-seeking, because in striving after these 
 objects the soul turns away from the only object in 
 which it can find satisfaction. Now, with the elimina- 
 tion of all definite ends, it is obvious that all practical 
 activity is made impossible ; and therefore we are not 
 surprised that the true life of man is conceived to 
 consist in pure contemplation, or even in the dissolu- 
 tion of all definite thought and immersion in an 
 indefinable Absolute. 
 
 The ultimate reason for the negative conception of 
 evil is no doubt the determination to preserve the 
 absolute unity of the Infinite. If evil is something 
 positive, it seems as if it must be attributed to God, 
 with the result that His perfect goodness is denied. 
 Hence an attempt is made to evade the difficulty by 
 conceiving the finite as by its very nature evil, in so far 
 as it is wanting in reality. It is not seen that the 
 difficulty of reconciling partial reality with the existence 
 of a Being who contains all reality within Himself is no 
 whit easier than that of reconciling unqualified reality 
 with it. That there is no need for such a device may 
 perhaps be shown by asking how evil is to be explained 
 on our view, that the world is a manifestation of God. 
 
GOD AND MAN 455 
 
 Now, as a matter of historical fact, the doctrine of 
 Plotinus came into conflict with the fundamentally 
 different conception of Christianity, with the result 
 that the former was compelled to make way for the 
 latter ; and we may therefore be sure that it is a 
 one-sided doctrine. In the Confessions of Augus- 
 tine we have an account of the process by which 
 he finally came to see that Neo-platonism could not 
 afford final satisfaction. Through the influence of 
 Neo-platonism it was made clear to him that the 
 Manichaean doctrine, which divides up the universe 
 between two antagonistic powers, was utterly unsatis- 
 factory, and he discerned that God is the source of 
 all reality, and that only in union with Him is 
 perfect blessedness. But as his experience deepened 
 he found that, though Neo-platonism had freed him 
 from the materialistic tendencies of Manichaeism, by 
 revealing the spirituality of God, it had no insight 
 into the central truth of Christianity, that the Word 
 has been made flesh, and therefore that the spirit of 
 God is present in humanity, even in its degradation. 
 
 Now, we have here a principle which throws a 
 flood of light on the problem of evil. Plotinus virtu- 
 ally excludes from the divine influence all forms of 
 being lower than man, and even all men who are 
 unable to rise, through the refining influence of the 
 beauty of nature and art, first to the ideal view of 
 existence, and ultimately to the ecstatic vision of the 
 Absolute One. Disguise it as he may from himself 
 by his pictorial forms of expression, Plotinus cannot 
 escape the charge of giving over all finite existence 
 to the power of evil ; and though he protests 
 vigorously against the idea of fate or external neces- 
 sity, he can only explain the influence of the Absolute 
 on the world by the idea of a purely accidental 
 
454 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 and irrational activity, which at bottom is the same 
 thing. Now, if we refuse to admit that the universe 
 in any of its parts is subject to chance, and main- 
 tain that whatever is must in some sense be in 
 harmony with the divine nature, it is obvious that 
 we can neither regard evil as an irresistible force 
 acting in opposition to good, nor can we view it as 
 a mere appearance or illusion, which disappears when 
 we put ourselves at the point of view of the Absolute ; 
 in other words, we can neither accept the mystical 
 nor the pantheistic conception of evil. Enough has 
 perhaps been said in regard to the former, but before 
 attempting to give the only solution that seems to 
 be satisfactory, it will be well to say a few words about 
 the latter. 
 
 Neo-platonism, while affirming the sole reality of 
 the Absolute, yet predicates a kind of independence of 
 the finite, and even finds in it the explanation of evil. 
 Pantheism, on the other hand, denies that the finite 
 has any independent reality whatever, and therefore 
 it consistently affirms that evil, as such, has no 
 existence. The supposed reality of evil is' due to 
 the limited point of view of our ordinary conscious- 
 ness, which gives an apparent independence to that 
 which has no real independence. We are accustomed 
 to regard the pictures of imagination as if they cor- 
 responded to reality, whereas they give to the part a 
 seeming reality which disappears when we contemplate 
 it from the point of view of the whole. Thus we 
 picture, say, a candle burning in a vacuum, to use 
 one of Spinoza's illustrations, and on the basis of this 
 image we think of the candle as in itself a real 
 thing. But, when we go on to think what we have 
 thus imagined, it becomes obvious that a candle 
 burning in a vacuum is impossible from the total 
 
GOD AND MAN 455 
 
 nature of the physical world. And the same thing, 
 continues Spinoza, is true of our own actions. We 
 have before our minds the idea of a volition, and 
 limiting ourselves to it, we imagine that we, as 
 individuals, originate our acts. But, in truth, every 
 act implies a cause in the form of a motive, and 
 therefore a purely self-determined act is an impossi- 
 bility. Thus, it is argued, just as error or falsehood 
 has no reality corresponding to it, so there is nothing 
 in reality corresponding to evil. When we rise above 
 the divisive, partial and deceptive point of view of 
 the imagination, and contemplate all things from the 
 point of view of the whole, or as Spinoza calls it, 
 " under the form of eternity," we see that evil has 
 no real existence. What is properly meant by evil 
 is the limitation or negation which belongs to each 
 part of the whole, when it is given an unreal and 
 factitious independence. We must, therefore, in esti- 
 mating the actions of ourselves or others, neither 
 condemn nor approve them, but simply contemplate 
 them in their relation to the whole. As Pope puts it : 
 
 " All discord, harmony not understood, 
 All partial evil, universal good ; 
 And, spite of pride, in erring nature's spite, 
 One truth is clear, whatever is, is right." 
 
 Or, in the striking phrase of a recent writer : " Heaven's 
 design can realize itself as effectively in Catiline or 
 Borgia as in the scrupulous or innocent"^ A finite 
 self and a purely individual action, like other forms of 
 the finite, is an illusion, and therefore it is only by 
 reference to a standard which all men are supposed 
 able to will that we speak of self-denial and selfishness; 
 the truth being that, as compared with the infinite, no 
 
 ^ Bradley, Appearaftce and Reality, p. 202. 
 
4S6 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 finite being is more or less perfect, but all are on the 
 same level as equally necessary to the whole. " I 
 confess I cannot understand," says Spinoza, "how 
 spiritual beings express God more than the other 
 creatures, for I know that between the finite and the 
 infinite there is no proportion, and that the distinction 
 between God and the most excellent of created things 
 differs not a whit from the distinction between him 
 and the lowest and meanest of them." ^ 
 
 The most obvious objection to this doctrine is that 
 it contradicts itself. It asserts that " whatever is, is 
 right," and yet it denies that from the point of view of 
 the Absolute anything can be said to be in any sense 
 higher or lower than anything else. Thus it maintains 
 a form of Optimism which may just as well be called 
 Pessimism ; for, when the distinction in quality between 
 one thing and another, one act and another, is 
 abolished, the assertion that the whole is good becomes 
 meaningless. If all distinctions are, from the point of 
 view of the finite, equally true and right, for " whatever 
 is " might as well be substituted " whatever is not " 
 without any alteration in the character of the whole. 
 When it is said that the finite is an illusion, it is 
 implied that this illusion has at least the reality of a 
 subjective appearance. But the recognition that the 
 finite is an illusion implies that we have somehow 
 transcended the finite and comprehended the infinite. 
 So far as the distinction of good and evil is concerned, 
 this must mean that we are conscious of an absolute 
 standard, by reference to which all the acts of finite 
 beings are alike condemned. But the admission of this 
 standard implies that, in virtue of our reason, we are 
 not merely finite, but can comprehend the infinite ; 
 and a being who can thus transcend the finite cannot 
 
 ^ Caii'd's Essays in Literature and Philosophy, ii. , 380. 
 
GOD AND MAN 457 
 
 be merely a link in the chain of natural causation, but 
 must be able to determine himself by a higher law. 
 And when freedom is once admitted, we can no longer 
 maintain that all beings are upon the same level, or 
 that there is no distinction in kind between good and 
 evil. The Pantheistic solution of the problem of evil 
 is therefore no more satisfactory than the Mystical. As 
 the latter virtually affirms the eternity of evil, and thus 
 denies the possibility of good, so the former, in affirm- 
 ing the sole reality of good, destroys the possibility of 
 evil. A true theory must maintain the reality of 
 both. 
 
 i The course of our discussion has made it clear that 
 we can neither regard evil as an absolute limit, nor as a 
 mere negation : it is not the former, because evil that 
 cannot be transcended, by the very fact that it is 
 eternal, becomes a mere brutal necessity, which cannot 
 exist in a rational universe ; it is not the latter, because 
 a pure negation is a mere fiction. We must, therefore, 
 hold that evil exists in order to be overcome, and that 
 in some sense it is inseparable from goodj It is often 
 supposed, that the absoluteness or perfection of the 
 whole is incompatible with the independence and 
 freedom of the parts. But such a conception of the 
 whole evidently assumes that the only type of reality 
 which can with consistency be maintained is that of an 
 identity which excludes the self-activity of the parts. 
 Such an assumption is surely indefensible. Even if we 
 do not go beyond organized beings, we find a higher 
 form of unity than that which is sought to be ascribed 
 to the Absolute. In a living being, we cannot say that 
 the whole is simply the sum of the parts : what we 
 must say is, that each part contains the whole, and yet 
 that the whole could not exist apart from the peculiar 
 activity of the parts. And if this is true of organized 
 
 / 
 
458 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 beings, it is true in a much higher sense of self- 
 eonscious or spiritual beings. We are accustomed to 
 speak of society as an organism ; and the metaphor 
 points to a truth which we are tempted to overlook ; 
 for society is not a collection of separate individuals, 
 but a whole, in which the self-activity of each is 
 essential to the whole, while yet the principle of the 
 whole is manifested in each. But, while society must 
 be assimilated to an organism, it is more than an 
 organism in this sense, that the principle of the whole 
 must not only operate in each member, but each must 
 comprehend the principle of the whole. No doubt it is 
 the case that this comprehension exists in the different 
 members of society in various degrees of distinctness ; 
 but in any one who understands what citizenship means, 
 it must exist in some form, however confused and even 
 inconsistent that form may be. \ Now, we are surely 
 entitled to apply to the ultimate principle of the whole 
 universe the highest conception of unity of which we 
 are capable ; and, therefore, while we must recognize 
 that it is difficult, or even impossible, to bring to abso- 
 lute clearness the conception of the Absolute, there can 
 be no possible doubt that it is a self-conscious unity, 
 manifested in and to self-conscious beings, each of 
 whom can attain to self-consciousness only in so far as 
 he comprehends the principle which is implied in all 
 forms of being, but reveals its meaning explicitly only to 
 rational beings. If this is admitted, it must also be 
 admitted, as I think, that it is incompatible with the 
 very possibility of self-consciousness in man, that he 
 should start with a developed consciousness of the 
 Absolute. (The whole character of our experience 
 shows us, that we rise to the consciousness of our unity 
 with others only through the stress and conflict of an 
 antagonism which at times is so extreme that it seems 
 
GOD AND MAN 459 
 
 to burst the spiritual bonds by which men are united in 
 society.' And indeed the freedom of man necessarily 
 implies freedom to will evil, i.e. to seek for the realiza- 
 tion of himself in that which is contradictory of his true 
 nature. Here, then, as it seems to me, we have at 
 once the explanation of evil and of its compatibility 
 with the absolute perfection of God. { There is no evil 
 except for a rational being, who is capable of willing a 
 good which he identifies with the absolute good, but 
 which is in reality in antagonism to it. But, inasmuch 
 as the possibility of willing this lower good is insepar- 
 able from the existence of free subjects, who only come 
 to the clear consciousness of the higher through experi- 
 ence of the lower, it is just the high destiny of man and 
 the infinite perfection of God, which make it inconceivable 
 how there should be a universe, containing beings who 
 realize what is the meaning of their own life and of the 
 whole, unless those beings pass through the long and 
 painful process by which the absolutely good is revealed 
 as that which can overcome the deepest depths of evil.) 
 It is characteristic of Christianity that, while at times it 
 has attached so much importance to the evil of which 
 man is capable as to find it hard to believe in its over- 
 throw, yet it has never faltered in the belief that evil 
 must be capable of being overcome. Even Augustine, 
 who realized with a perfect passion of conviction 
 the depths of evil to which man may fall, maintained 
 with equal assurance that it is but a transitionary stage 
 to a higher good. And I think we may say that the 
 pessimistic tone of many of the literary men and 
 thinkers of our own day is at bottom due more to the 
 higher demands now made upon humanity, and a 
 clearer perception of the obstacles still to be overcome, 
 than to a belief in the cieterioration of the race or real 
 despair of its future. Thus, in a sense, pessimism 
 
46o PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 confirms the doctrine which I am trying to express^ 
 that only through an ever deeper realization of the depths 
 of evil can man hope to rise to loftier heights of goodness. 
 It was not the eighteenth century, with its narrow and 
 Philistine conception of life, 
 
 " The barren optimistic sophistries 
 Of comfortable moles," 
 
 that has done most to forward the reign of " peace on 
 earth, goodwill to men," but the nineteenth century, 
 with its powerful practical optimism, sometimes 
 expressing itself in terms of pessimism ; and it is 
 hardly too much to say that the height of optimism 
 attained in any age is exactly correspondent to the 
 depth of pessimism. The people and the individual 
 who are most profoundly conscious of evil have also the 
 highest ideal of human life, and therefore implicitly 
 the most assured faith in the power of good to over- 
 come it. How otherwise can we explain the 
 impassioned warfare waged by the best minds of our 
 day against everything that shows the least taint of 
 cruelty or injustice? Without faith in the response 
 of his fellows to what is deepest in them, no one would 
 venture to arraign them of evil. And it is worthy of 
 special consideration that practically all the voices 
 which give expression to that self-criticism which is a 
 distinctive mark of our time, attack the present social 
 organism on the ground that it is not organic enough, 
 but in some form overrides that impulse towards 
 self-realization which is based upon the idea of a 
 higher good. No theory truly formulates what is 
 working so powerfully in our modern consciousness 
 that does not conceive of evil as due to the imperfect 
 conditions under which man must realize the principle 
 which in God is already realized. A self-conscious 
 
GOD AND MAN 461 
 
 being, as Carlyle has told us, cannot be satisfied with 
 anything less than the whole infinite universe ; and 
 therefore it is not surprising that, living a life so 
 narrowly limited in space and time, he should at first 
 seek for his own good in violation of the claims of 
 others. Hence the whole history of man is, in one 
 point of view, a record of the process by which he 
 gradually learns that the absolute good of which he is 
 in search is not to be found in anything short of that 
 divine life, which consists in the free subordination of 
 his merely individual good to the good of the whole. 
 Evil, then, is never willed simply as evil ; it appears at 
 the time as the good of which a man is ever in search ; 
 and when he is disillusioned by the experience that in 
 it he has not found his good, the recoil upon himself 
 brings to light the higher self, against which he has 
 unwittingly been striving, under the idea that in the 
 lower his permanent satisfaction was to be found. In 
 the sense that man cannot permanently will what he 
 clearly realizes to be incompatible with goodness, we 
 may say that the source of evil lies in ignorance or the 
 want of self-knowledge ; but in so speaking we must 
 be careful to observe that to be ignorant of oneself is 
 ultimately to be ignorant of the principle of all good- 
 ness, i.e, of God. ) 
 
 (If this is at all a true account of evil, it is not 
 difficult to see that the regeneration of humanity is 
 only possible in so far as the spirit of God is immanent 
 in man, and as man freely responds to it and identifies 
 his own good with the good of all. / It is important to 
 insist upon both of these aspects of the truth, for the 
 denial or unconsciousness of either must lead to a false 
 conception of life. Unless the divine spirit is con- 
 tained in the self-conscious life of man, all his strivings 
 must be blind and abortive efforts to escape from the 
 
462 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 iron chains of necessity. If the universe is not rational, 
 and fitted to realize the rational life of man, by no 
 possible effort can he find the good of which he is in 
 search. But it is equally essential that man should 
 freely surrender himself to the influence of the divine 
 principle which is operative in him. It is for this 
 reason, as I have argued, that man must be capable of 
 self-will, i.e. of seeking his good in isolation from others, 
 and therefore in violation of the promptings of that 
 higher self-consciousness which is a witness to the true 
 nature of things. A rational being cannot be forced 
 to be good. He may, indeed, be made to conform 
 externally to what is imposed upon him, but his will is 
 not thereby turned to the good, but, on the contrary, it 
 suffers a degradation from which it may be hard to 
 reciover. A free subject cannot be made good even 
 by the power of omnipotence, and therefore the 
 spiritual life is essentially a free and self-determined 
 life. The self-revelation of God in and to man 
 is correlative to man's free self-identification with 
 God. 
 
 From these considerations we may learn wherein 
 the process of regeneration consists. The acts of the 
 individual must be his own ; but, at the same time, 
 the moral quality of his acts is determined by his total 
 attitude towards the community of which he is a 
 member. As morality consists in willing the good of 
 all, evil is overcome just in so far as the individual 
 views the guilt of all as his own guilt For, by this 
 supreme act of self-abnegation, self-will is cut at the 
 root, and its place is filled by a will that wills the 
 whole. Nor is it possible for anyone to separate him- 
 self from others, so as to isolate either the evil or the 
 good he does. As St. Paul so clearly saw, the evil of 
 one communicates a taint to all, just as the good of one 
 
GOD AND MAN 4^3 
 
 contributes to the perfection of the whole. On the 
 other hand, the individual bears in himself the guilt of 
 all, as he is uplifted by the good of all. And as man 
 by his very nature is always seeking for complete 
 realization, the process of his history is a continual 
 triumph of the higher over the lower, carrying with it 
 the elevation of the individual as well as of the race. 
 At each stage of this process, it is true, there are 
 individuals who fail to rise to the spiritual level of 
 their time ; and, indeed, one of the great problems 
 of society is to bring them to the consciousness of 
 what their true nature is ; but, on the whole, man is in 
 perpetual process towards the complete moralization 
 of his will. Now, it is here that the character of the 
 religious consciousness exercises its influence. Mysti- 
 cism, as we find it in Plotinus, and even in Christian 
 writers, gives a very inadequate support to the develop- 
 ment of the moral consciousness, because it does not 
 recognize, or at least does not sufficiently recognize, 
 the essential identity of all men and the necessity of 
 the complete development of human nature in all its 
 aspects to the realization of that union with the 
 divine which, in common with all the higher forms 
 of religion, it asserts. Thus it leads to the over- 
 estimation of the contemplative life, and even to 
 the evaporation of religion in a super-rational ecstasy, 
 which gives no aid in the uplifting of men as a 
 whole, but at the most merely encourages a few 
 choice spirits to indulge in the luxury of a refined 
 spirituality. 
 
 Pantheism, again, tends to deaden the consciousness 
 of moral evil, and therefore to encourage contentment 
 with " whatever is." No doubt many whose theoretical 
 creed is Pantheistic exhibit the strongest practical 
 interest in the progress of society ; but this only shows 
 
464 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 that there may be a contrast between what a man 
 thinks he believes and what actually rules his life. 
 Where, as in ancient India, Pantheism was not a mere 
 doctrine but a life, its fruits appeared in indifference to 
 the wildest excesses of passion or in the conservation 
 of immemorial customs. In contrast to Mysticism and 
 Pantheism, Christianity is essentially the religion of 
 humanity, and as such it forms the support and the 
 justification of that warfare with the lower self which 
 constitutes the essence of the moral consciousness. 
 Nor can the moral consciousness in its highest form 
 subsist apart from the religious consciousness, for the 
 basis of morality ultimately is an ineradicable faith in 
 the rationality of the universe. No doubt men may 
 be moral, and may even live the self-sacrificing life 
 demanded by Christianity, who are not able to reconcile 
 to their intellect the Christian idea of the essential 
 unity of man and God ; but I think it may be said 
 that the independence of morality on religion cannot 
 be maintained by anyone who clearly recognizes that 
 to separate morality from religion is to deny a principle 
 and yet affirm its application. If morality is not the 
 expression of an ideal based upon the true nature of 
 things, how can it be maintained that moral progress is 
 possible ? Why may what is called progress not be a 
 process which is in disharmony with the true nature of 
 things, and but a useful expedient to secure a greater 
 amount of individual pleasure? It thus seems to me 
 that we cannot maintain the objective character of 
 morality without basing it upon the ultimate nature 
 of things as realized in God. This is the claim of 
 Christianity, as I understand it ; for Christianity refuses 
 to separate the service of humanity from the service of 
 God, or the service of God from the service of 
 humanity. A love for man which is not inspired by 
 
GOD AND MAN 465 
 
 the faith that self-sacrifice is the very nature of the 
 divine, can never issue in that audacity of enthusiasm 
 by which men have been able to remove mountains, 
 and a love of God which is purely contemplative, or 
 expresses itself mainly in prescribed acts of adoration, 
 will not enable men cheerfully to face and overcome 
 the most unsightly and repellent forms of physical and 
 moral evil. 
 
 The regeneration of humanity demands more than 
 the removal of outward obstacles to progress : it 
 demands the transformation of the evil will by the 
 awakening of the higher or true self, the self which can 
 find rest only in union with God ; and such a renewal 
 of humanity, which may well be called a " new birth," 
 must necessarily be slow, and at times may seem to 
 cease altogether, or even to move backward. It is an 
 index of the nobility of man that his development is 
 always self-development ; and therefore no member of 
 the whole can be allowed to remain in any respect 
 unspiritualized. This various and complete realization 
 of all the forms in which the self-conscious life is 
 manifested has only in modern times been clearly 
 recognized as the task of humanity, and its very 
 complexity is apt to confuse and blind men to the 
 great issues of life. Not least among the sources of 
 perplexity are those intellectual differences which arise 
 largely from the very intensity with which men devote 
 themselves to some special task, with the result that 
 they find it difficult to " see life steadily and see it 
 whole " ; and one of the main objects I have kept before 
 me in these lectures has been to suggest a view of the 
 relations of knowledge and faith, theory and practice, 
 morality and religion, which shall not leave them in 
 irreconcilable conflict, but shall indicate a way in 
 which all the elements of human life may be reconciled 
 
 2G 
 
466 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 in the conception of a divine principle which 
 manifests itself in every part of the universe, but 
 predominantly in man, whose prerogative it is to 
 realize ever more clearly that if in his first nature 
 he is sunk in evil, his second nature is to be of 
 kin with God. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 L BOOKS ON PHILO. 
 
 Philonis ludaei Opera Omnia. 8 vols. Leipzig, 1880. 
 
 The Works of Philo Judaeus. Translated from the Greek by 
 C. D. Yonge, B.A. 4 vols. London : George Bell & Sons, 
 1890. 
 
 Des Juden Philo Buch von der Weltschopfung. Edited and 
 explained by J. G. MuUer. Berlin, 1841. 
 
 Geschichtliche Darstellung der jiidisch-alexandrinischen Reli- 
 gions-Philosophie. By August Ferdinand Dahne. Halle, 1834. 
 
 Jowett's St. Paul's Epistles. Vol. I. Essay on St. Paul and 
 Philo. London : John Murray, 1894. 
 
 Philo Judaeus ; or, the Jewish-Alexandrian Philosophy in its 
 Development and Conception. By James Drummond, LL.D. 
 2 vols. London : Williams & Norgate, 1888. 
 
 The Jewish People in the Time of Jesus Christ. By Emil Schiirer, 
 D.D., M.A. Vol. IIL, Div. II. Edinburgh : T. & T. Clark. 
 1891. 
 
 The Influence of Greek Ideas and Usages upon the Christian 
 Church. By Edwin Hatch, D.D. London: Williams & 
 Norgate, 1890. 
 
 Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte. By Dr. Adolf Harnack. Vol. I. 
 Freiburg and Leipzig, 1894. 
 
 A History of Philosophy. By W. Windelband. Part II., Chap. 
 II. London : Macmillan & Co., 1893. 
 
468 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 II. EXTRACTS FROM PHILO. 
 I. Extracts from the "De Mundi Opificio." 
 
 § I. Of other law-givers some have set forth in a naked 
 and unadorned fashion what they regarded as just, while 
 others have overloaded their thoughts with a great mass of 
 superfluous matter, and bewildered the minds of the people 
 by the mythical fictions in which they have hidden the truth. 
 Moses, on the other hand, has rejected both of these methods, 
 — the one as inconsiderate, careless and unphilosophical, the 
 other as mendacious and full of imposture, — and has made 
 the beginning of his laws entirely beautiful and admirable, 
 neither declaring without preparation what ought to be done 
 or not to be done, nor (since it was necessary to mould 
 beforehand the minds of those who were to use his laws) 
 inventing mythical fables himself, or adopting those which 
 had been constructed by others. The beginning, as I have 
 said, is most admirable, containing as it does an account of 
 the creation of the world; the reason being that the world 
 is in harmony with the law and the law with the world, so 
 that the man who obeys the law is at the same time a citizen 
 of the world, and acts in conformity with the purpose of 
 nature by which the whole world is regulated. 
 
 The beauty of the ideas impressed upon creation no poet 
 or historian could ever worthily celebrate. They surpass 
 speech and hearing, being too great and too venerable to be 
 adapted to the senses of man. We must not, however, be 
 silent on that account, but, inspired by our love to God, 
 we must try to speak of them even beyond our powers. 
 Though of ourselves we can do nothing, we must say what 
 little we can, so far as our limited human faculty allows, 
 when it is filled with the love and desire of wisdom. For, 
 just as the smallest seal receives the impress of things of 
 colossal magnitude, so perhaps the surpassing beauty of 
 
APPENDIX 469 
 
 creation as recorded in the Law, overshadowing with its 
 splendour the souls of those who come in contact with it, 
 will be displayed in smaller characters, when we have first 
 set forth that which must not be passed over in silence. 
 
 § 2. Some, admiring the beauty of the world rather than 
 the Maker of the world, have declared it to be ungenerated 
 and eternal ; they have plainly and expressly maintained the 
 false doctrine of the absolute inactivity of God, whereas they 
 ought to have been filled with wonder at the power of God 
 as its Maker and Father, instead of reverencing the world 
 beyond due measure. But Moses, who had reached the 
 very summit of philosophy, and had also learned from the 
 oracles of God the great principles operative in nature, was 
 by his insight into nature aware that there is necessarily in 
 things an active and a passive principle, and that the active 
 principle — the Reason of the whole — is perfectly pure and 
 unmixed, being better than virtue, better than knowledge, 
 and better than the absolutely good and the absolutely 
 beautiful; while the passive principle, as without life and 
 self-activity, is moved and shaped and animated by Reason, 
 and thus transformed into an absolutely perfect product 
 Those who affirm the world to be ungenerated do not see 
 that they are undermining what is most useful and most 
 essential to piety, namely, the idea of Providence. For reason 
 shows us that a father and a maker take care of that which 
 has been produced. A father seeks to secure the continuance 
 of his children, an artificer the continuance of what he has 
 made; whatever is pernicious and hurtful he does his very 
 best to remove, whatever is useful and advantageous he seeks 
 by every means to provide. But that which is there of itself 
 can excite no particular interest in him who has not produced 
 it. That is a worthless and pernicious doctrine, which 
 assimilates the world to an anarchic State, in which there 
 is no head or ruler or judge, whose prerogative it is to 
 administer and govern all things. Now, the great Moses, 
 viewing the uncreated as entirely different in nature from 
 
470 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 the visible world — for the whole visible world, as subject 
 to process and change, is never the same in successive 
 moments — has attributed eternity to that world which is 
 invisible and grasped by thought as brother and kinsman, 
 while he has appropriately spoken of the genesis of the 
 sensible world. Since, then, our world is visible and sensible^ 
 it has also of necessity been created. There was therefore 
 good reason for giving an account of its genesis, and in 
 doing so Moses has shown himself to be a cosmologist of the 
 most reverential spirit. 
 
 § 3, Moses says that the world was constructed in six 
 days ; not that the Creator had need of a length of time — 
 for it is fitting that God should do all things at once, not 
 only by His command, but by His mere thought, — but because 
 what was created must also be ordered. Now, number is 
 characteristic of order, and by the laws of nature six is the 
 most productive of numbers. For, after the unit, it is the 
 first perfect number, being equal in its parts, and being 
 completed from them — three being one-half of six, two one- 
 third, one one-sixth. Moreover, six is by nature, as it were, 
 male and female, and unites in itself the power of each. 
 For, in existing things the odd is male, and the eve?i is female ; 
 but three is the first of odd numbers, two of even numbers, 
 and six is the product of both. And the world, being the 
 most perfect of created things, must be constructed according 
 to a perfect number, viz. six; and, as it was to have in 
 itself the generation of things from the conjunction of male 
 and female numbers, it must contain the imprint of the first 
 mixed number which is at once odd and even, since it was 
 to embrace the species of the male which sows the seed and 
 the female which is receptive of the seed. 
 
 § 4. To each of the days, with the exclusion of the first, 
 there is allotted one of the parts of the whole. Moses does 
 not speak of the * first ' day", lest it should be numbered along 
 with the others, but appropriately calls it 'one day,' seeing 
 in and ascribing to it the nature and designation of unity. 
 
APPENDIX 471 
 
 Now, we must state as far as possible what is contained in it ; 
 for it is impossible to deal with all that it contains, since it 
 embraces the higher or intelligible world, as the account of 
 it shows. For God, because He is God, knew beforehand 
 that there can be no beautiful image without a beautiful 
 model, nor any faultless sensible object which has not been 
 fashioned after an archetype and idea grasped by reason ; and 
 therefore, when He had determined to construct this visible 
 world of ours, He produced beforehand the intelligible world, 
 in order that, by using the incorporeal and god-like model, 
 He might fashion the corporeal world, as a younger image of 
 the older, containing as many sensible genera as there are 
 intelligible genera in the ideal world. 
 
 § 5. Just as the idea of a city which he proposes to 
 construct has no existence in space, but is stamped upon the 
 soul of the architect: so the intelligible world can have no 
 other place than the divine Reason {X6yos)j which gives order 
 to the various ideas. For what other place can there be for 
 the divine powers, which is capable of receiving and containing, 
 I do not say all the powers, but any one of them in its 
 purity ? 
 
 § 6. It is also a divine power which has formed the world, 
 a power which has its source in absolute goodness. For if 
 it is asked why this world has been made, I think we shall 
 not err if we answer, with one of the ancients, that [the Father 
 and Maker is good, and does not grudge to impart something 
 of His own nature to matter, which in itself possesses nothing 
 good, but is capable of becoming all things. For matter in 
 its primitive state was without order, without quality, without 
 life, and full of instability, disorder and disharmony ; but it 
 has been changed and transformed into the opposite and 
 best, — the well-ordered, harmonious,^in a word, whatever is 
 characteristic of the higher nature. God Himself, incited by 
 no adviser — for what other Being was there? — was minded 
 to bestow rich and unlimited favours upon that which, without 
 the divine grace, could obtain no good thing. But He has 
 
472 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 endowed it, not in proportion to the greatness of His own 
 grace, which is infinite and eternal, but in proportion to the 
 receptive power of the things upon which His grace is bestowed. 
 For that which is made is not fit to receive all that God 
 is willing to bestow, since His powers transcend all measure ; 
 and the creature, being too weak to receive the divine grace 
 in its fulness, would have sunk exhausted, had not God 
 measured His bounty, allotting duly the portion;! which fell to 
 each. 
 
 To speak more plainly, the intelligible world is nothing 
 but the Thought (Aoyos) of God, or God as creating the 
 world, just as the ideal city is nothing but the thought 
 (Aoytcr/ios) of the architect, or the architect as conceiving 
 in his mind the city which is to be built. This is the teaching 
 of Moses, not mine. In giving an account of the origin of 
 man, he expressly says, that man was ' formed after the image 
 of God.' Now, if the part is an image of an image, manifestly 
 the whole 'form,^ this total sensible world of ours, which is 
 greater than man's image, must be a copy of the divine image. 
 And it is further evident, that the archetypal seal, which, we 
 call the intelligible world, must be the archetypal pattern, the 
 idea of ideas, the Reason (Aoyos) of God. 
 
 § 7. It is said that 'in the beginning God made the heavens 
 and the earth'; meaning by 'beginning,' not a beginning in 
 time, as some imagine ; for before the origination of the world 
 time was not, but it has come into being either with the world 
 or after it. For, as time is an interval in the movement of 
 the heavens, there could be no movement prior to that which 
 was moved, but movement must have been instituted either 
 later than, or simultaneously with, the origin of the heavens ; 
 hence, time must have come into being contemporaneously 
 with the world, or posterior to it. To assert that time is 
 older than the world is therefore rash and unphilosophical. 
 Now, if by the 'beginning' is not meant the beginning in 
 time, we must conclude that what is affirmed is the beginning 
 in number ; so that * in the beginning God made ' is equivalent 
 
APPENDIX 473 
 
 to *God made the heavens first.' And in truth it is proper 
 to say that heaven came into being 'first,' because it is the 
 highest of all created things, and consists of the purest species 
 of substance, since it was to be the most holy abode both of 
 invisible and of visible gods. And if the Creator made all things 
 at once, still things made beautifully none the less possessed 
 order; for nothing is beautiful that is without order. Now, 
 order is the consequence and connexion of things which 
 precede and follow one another, if not in actual fact, at least 
 in the mind of him who fashions them ; for only so will they 
 be determinate, stable in their nature, and free from confusion. 
 In the intelligible world, then^ the Creator made the incor- 
 poreal heavens and the invisible earth and the form of air 
 and of empty space. The former he called ' darkness,' 
 because air is by nature black ; the latter the * deep ' because 
 empty space is exceedingly deep and immeasurable. Next 
 He made the incorporeal substance of water and 'spirit' 
 {irvivfia) ; seventh, and last of all, the substance of light, 
 which also was incorporeal, being the ideal pattern of the 
 sun and of all the light-bearing stars which were to be fixed 
 in the heavens. 
 
 2. Extracts from other Writings of Philo. 
 
 A. — II. 654. The divine realm is truly untrodden and 
 inaccessible, nor is the purest intelligence able to ascend even 
 to such a height as merely to touch it. It is impossible for 
 man to have a direct vision of the self-existent Being. When 
 it is said that man cannot see the 'face' of God, this is not 
 to be taken literally, but is a figurative way of indicating that 
 the self-existent Being is absolutely pure and unmixed, the 
 specific nature and form of man being best known by his 
 'face.' For God does not say, 'I am by nature invisible' — 
 for who can be more visible than He who has originated all 
 other visible things ? — but He says, ' Though I am by nature 
 visible, no man hath seen me.' And the cause lies in the 
 
474 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 weakness of the creature. To speak plainly, we must become 
 God — which is impossible — before we can comprehend God. — 
 I. 258. In Deuteronomy xxxii. 39, we read: "Behold, behold 
 that I am, and there is no God beside me." Now here God 
 does not say, "Behold Me" — for it is impossible for the 
 creature at all to comprehend God in His inner being — but, 
 "Behold that I am^^' i.e. contemplate my existence; for it is 
 enough for human reason to attain to the knowledge that 
 there is and exists a Cause of the universe, and any attempt 
 to go further and discover the essence or determinate nature 
 of this Cause is the source of all folly. When Moses asked 
 by what name he should designate the Being who sent him, 
 the divine answer was (Exod. iii. 14): "I am he who «" 
 {'Eya> et/it 6 <Lv) ; which was equivalent to, " It is my nature 
 to be, not to be named" (cti/at Tret^-uKa, ov Xeyeo-^at). — I. 53. 
 He who thinks that God has qualities, or that He is not one, 
 or is not uncreated and imperishable, or is not immutable, 
 injures himself, not God. — I. 181. It is impious to suppose 
 that there is anything higher than the Cause of all things, 
 since nothing is equal to Him, nothing a little lower, but 
 everything after God is found to have descended by a whole 
 genus. — II. 191. God must be conceived as the uncreated 
 and eternal Cause of all things. — I. 229. Though He exists 
 outside of creation, God has none the less filled the world 
 with Himself. 
 
 B. — II. 154. The Aoyos is two-fold in the universe and in 
 the nature of man. In the universe there is, on the one 
 hand, the Aoyos which has to do with the incorporeal and 
 archetypal ideas constituting the intelligible cosmos, and, on 
 the other hand, the Aoyos which is concerned with visible 
 things, — these being copies and imitations of the ideas from 
 which this visible cosmos has been fashioned. In man, again, 
 there is, on the one hand, the Xoyos kvhi6Be.To% (inner reason) 
 and, on the other hand, the Xoyos 7rpo<f>opiK6s (outer reason). 
 The former is like a fountain, the latter, i.e. the expressed 
 Aoyos, is like the stream which flows forth from it. The 
 
APPENDIX 475 
 
 one is situated in the ruling part; the other — that which is 
 expressed — is in the tongue and mouth and the other organs 
 of speech. . . . Two virtues have been assigned to it, 
 expression and truth y- for the A-dyos of nature is true and 
 expressive of all things, and the Adyos of the wise man, 
 imitating the Adyos of nature, ought to be absolutely incapable 
 of falsehood ; it ought to honour truth, and obscure nothing 
 the knowledge of which can benefit those instructed by it. 
 Not but what there have been assigned to the two forms of 
 the Xdyos in us two appropriate virtues ; to the \dyo% irpo- 
 <fiopik6s the virtue of expression^ and to the Adyos in the mind 
 the virtue of truth ; for it is not fitting that the mind should 
 accept anything false, or that speech should be a hindrarice 
 to the most precise expression of truth. — I. i6i. God is cause, 
 not instrument. Whatever comes into being is produced by 
 means of an instrument, but by the cause of all things. In 
 the production of anything there must co-operate (i) that by 
 which it is made, (2) ^dX from which it is made, (3) that 
 through which it is made, (4) that on account of which it is 
 made \ in other words, the ' cause,' the ' matter/ the * instru- 
 ment,' the 'reason' or 'purpose.' Thus, in the production 
 of a house, or a whole city, there must co-operate (i) the 
 architect, (2) the stones and timber, (3) the instruments. 
 Now, the architect is the cause by which the house is made, 
 the stones and timber are the 'matter '/?-i?»2 which the building 
 is made, the instruments are the things through which it is 
 made, and the reason why it is made is to afford shelter and 
 protection. Passing from particular things, look at the pro- 
 duction of that greatest of all edifices or cities, the world, 
 and you will find that God is the cause by whom it has 
 been produced, that the 'matter' is the four elements out 
 of which it has been composed, that the instrument is the 
 Adyos of God through which it has been formed, and that 
 the reason of its existence is the goodness of the Creator. — 
 I. 502. The Adyos is neither unbegotten as God, nor begotten 
 as man. 
 
476 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 C— I. 414. The Aoyos is the eldest Son of God— I. 308. 
 The Xoyos is the first-born Son of God. — I. 562. The eldest 
 Xoyos of the self-existent Being puts on the cosmos as a 
 garment, for it arrays itself in earth and water and air and 
 fire and their products, as the individual soul is clothed with 
 the body, and the mind of the wise man with the virtues. . . . 
 The Xoyos of the self-existent Being is the bond of the 
 universe, which holds together and closely unites all its parts, 
 preventing them from being loosened and separated, — I. 298. 
 Once Greece flourished, but the Macedonians deprived it of 
 its authority. Then Macedonia had its period of bloom, but 
 it was gradually dismembered, and finally lost its power. 
 Prior to the Macedonians the Persians were prosperous, but 
 in a single day their vast and mighty kingdom was overthrown. 
 And now the Parthians are more powerful than the Persians, 
 who but the other day were their masters. Egypt once had 
 a long and glorious career, but like a cloud its dominion has 
 passed away. Where are the Ethiopians, where Carthage and 
 Libya? Where are the Kings of the Pontus? What has 
 befallen Europe and Asia, and, in a word, the whole habitable 
 world?' Is it not tossed up and down, and agitated like a 
 ship at sea — at one time sailing under favouring winds, and 
 again struggling with contrary gales? For the divine Aoyos, 
 which most men call 'fortune,' moves in a circle. Ever 
 flowing, it acts upon cities and nations, assigning the posses- 
 sions of one to another, but always making for the conversion 
 of the whole habitable world into one city, with that highest 
 form of polity, democracy. — I. 411. The Xoyos is the heavenly 
 man. — II. 625. Why is it said that God 'made man after the 
 image of God' (Gen. i. 27), as if He were speaking of another 
 God, and not of Himself? The mode of statement is beauti- 
 fully and wisely chosen. For no mortal could be made in 
 the image of the most high God, the Father of the universe, 
 but only in the image of the second God^ who is the Adyos of 
 the other. For it was fitting that the rational (A-oyt/cds) impres- 
 sion on the soul of man should be engraved by the divine 
 
APPENDIX 477 
 
 Xoyos, since the God prior to the X6yos is higher than every 
 rational nature, and it was not lawful for any created being 
 to be made like to Him who is above reason. 
 
 D. — I. 502. The Father has given to the Xoyos the privilege 
 of standing between the Creator and that which He has made. 
 And this same Xoyos is a suppliant to the immortal God on 
 behalf of the afflicted race of mankind. — I. 270, 562. The 
 Xoyos is the high priest, who mediates between God and 
 man; who is not to be defiled by touching the corpse of 
 his father, t'.e, the spirit, or of his mother, z.e, the sense. — 
 L 1 2 1-2. The Xoyos is the manna; for Moses said to the 
 people, "This is the bread which the Lord hath given you 
 to eat" (Exod. xvi. 13). . . . The soul is taught by the 
 prophet Moses, who tells it : " This is the bread, the food 
 which God has given for the soul, explaining that God has 
 brought it. His own Word and Reason ; for this bread which 
 He has given us to eat is this Word of His." . . . Let God 
 enjoin the soul, saying to it, that " man shall not live by bread 
 alone," speaking in a figure, "but by every word that pro- 
 ceedeth out of the mouth of God." — I. 560. Moses exhorts 
 him who is sufficiently swift of foot to press on without taking 
 breath to the supreme Xoyos of God, which is the fountain 
 of wisdom, in order that, by drinking of that stream, he may 
 find everlasting life. — I. 504. The soul has three parts, and 
 each of these parts is divided into two ; as six parts thus 
 arise, the seventh, which is the holy and divine Xdyos, is fitly 
 regarded as the divider (rojuevs) of the whole. — I. 491. Each 
 of the three victims (the heifer, the ram and the goat) he 
 divided in the middle (Exod. xxxix. 3) ; the soul into rational 
 and irrational, speech i nto true and false, sensation into 
 definite and indefinite ; and these divisions he placed opposite 
 to each other, rational to irrational, true to false, definite to 
 indefinite, leaving the birds (turtle-dove and pigeon) undis- 
 turbed. For the incorporeal and divine sciences cannot be 
 divided into opposites at variance with each other. — I. 82, 
 The 'rock cut away at the top' (Deut. viii. 15) is the wisdom 
 
478 PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF RELIGION 
 
 of God, which He cut as topmost, first of all from His own 
 powers, and from which He gives drink to souls that love 
 God. 
 
 E. — I. 456. In Gen. xxvi. 5 we are told that Abraham 
 * kept all the Law of God.' Now, the Law (vo/aos) is nothing 
 but the Divine Word (Aoyos), which commands what ought 
 to be done, and forbids what ought not to be done; as 
 scripture bears witness when it says, *he received the Law 
 from His words' (Deut. xxxiii. 4). If, then, the Word of 
 God is the Law of God, and the righteous man keeps the 
 Law, he also perfectly keeps the Word; so that, as scripture 
 says, the actions of the wise man are the words of God. — 
 II. 452. Men who are under the dominion of anger, or desire, 
 or any other passion, or of intentional wickedness, are com- 
 plete slaves, while those who love the Law are free. For 
 the Law is unerring, right reason ; it is not made by this or 
 that man, being no transitory law of mortals, written on parch- 
 ments or engraved on columns, the lifeless on the lifeless, 
 but an eternal law stamped by the immortal nature on the 
 immortal mind. — II. 195. The Aoyos convinces of guilt; it 
 is the eXeyxos, which dwells in and is inseparable from each 
 soul : refusing to accept what is wrong, it always preserves its 
 nature as a hater of evil and lover of virtue, being itself at 
 once accuser and judge. 
 
 F. — I. 35. Every man in his reason is connected with the 
 divine koyos, being an ectype, or fragment, or spark of that 
 blessed nature, while in the structure of his body he is con- 
 nected with the rest of the world. — II. 367. A thousand 
 things escape from and elude the human mind, because it 
 is entangled in so great a crowd of impressions, which seduce 
 and deceive it by false opinions. Thus the soul may be said 
 to be buried in a mortal body, which may be called its 
 tomb. — I. 266. It is possible for the Divine Spirit to dwell 
 in the soul, but not to take up its permanent abode there. 
 And why should we wonder at this? For there is nothings 
 in this world the possession of which is stable and enduring, 
 
APPENDIX 479 
 
 but mortal affairs are continually wavering in the balance, 
 now inclining to one side and then to the other, and liable 
 to perpetual alternations. The greatest cause of our ignorance 
 is the flesh (p-dp^) and our connexion with the flesh. With 
 this agrees the saying of Moses : because * they are flesh, the 
 Divine Spirit ' is not able to abide in them. . . . Nor does 
 anything so impede the growth of the soul as the fleshly 
 nature. This is the first and main foundation of ignorance 
 and want of understanding. — I. 372. So long as our irrational 
 desires were not excited and did not cry out, our reason was 
 established with some firmness ; but when they began to fill 
 the soul with their discordant cries, calling out and awakening 
 the passions, they led to insurrection and strife. 
 
 G. — I. 203. Abraham confessed that virtue without the 
 grace of God is of no avail. — I. 662. We must never imagine 
 that we are ourselves able to wash and cleanse a life full of 
 stains without the grace of God.^ — I. 302. As milk is the food 
 of babes, and wheat-cakes the food of men, so the soul must 
 have a milk-like nourishment in its age of childhood, viz. the 
 rudiments of education, while the nourishment adapted to 
 men are the precepts of wisdom, temperance and the other 
 virtues. 
 
 III. EXTRACT FROM THE SEPTUAGINT: Gen. I. 
 
 2. 'Ev dp)(rj €7rOL7)o-€v 6 Seos rhv ovpavov Kal ttjv yrjv, 'H Se 
 
 yij -^v dopaTos koI dKarao-K^vao-Tos, /cat ctkotos eirdvoi t-JJs 
 
 3. dpva-(rov' Kot trvevfia Qiov CTre^epeTo kirdvia rov liSaros. 
 
 4. Kat ctTrei/ 6 0eb?, Tev^j^T^TO) ^ws, koI iykvero ^ws, Kat 
 
 etSev 6 0€os rb ^cos, on Kokov koI Ste^^wpto-ev 6 Geos 
 
 5. dvd fiecrov rov ^wrbs, koI dva fxku-ov tov ct/cotovs. Kat 
 
 exaXeo'Ci' 6 0eos to <^(3s '^fikpav, kol rh ctkotos €/caXeo"e 
 vvKTa' Kal iyevero loTrepa, /cat eyevcTO Trpwt, rjpjkpa fiia. 
 26. Kat ehrev 6 0ebs, Hofqcrtafxev dvOpiorov Kar* et/cova '^p.eripav 
 /cat KaO' 6/AOtwo"tv. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Abelard and Aquinas, 381. 
 Acts of Thomas, 294-6. 
 Agnosticism, 39, 431 seg. 
 Allegorical method, 198-200, 206-7, 
 
 217, 233-4, 265-6, 313, 351. 
 Ambrose, Influence of, on Augus- 
 tine, 312-3. 
 Ambrose and Neo-platonism, 330. 
 Ammonius Saccas, 316. 
 Anaxagoras, Allegorical method of, 
 
 199. 
 Anselm and Aquinas, 367, 377, 381. 
 Aristotle, on truth and friendship, 2. 
 Aristotle, Influence of, 193-4, 198, 
 
 200, 308, 318, 363, 370, 373 seq. 
 Aristotle, Monotheism of, 264, 315. 
 Arnold, M., on Optimism, 460. 
 Astronomy in relation to medieval 
 
 and modern thought, 50 seq. 
 Augsburg Confession, 401. 
 Augustine, Theology of, 8, 24, 
 
 Z2^seq., 430. 
 Augustine, Phases of faith of, 299 
 
 seq. 
 Augustine, Aesthetic theory of, 
 
 308-9. 
 Augustine and Neoplatonism, 322 
 
 seq., 330 seq., 335, 342, 356, 360, 
 
 453- 
 Augustine and Plato, 338. 
 Augustine, on Time and Space, 
 
 339 ^^^» 357- 
 Augustine, as reformer of piety, 
 
 348 seq. 
 Augustine, Allegorical method of, 
 
 351- 
 Augustine and Spmoza, 356. 
 
 Augustine and Aquinas, 362, 368, 
 
 388. 
 Augustine and Luther, 362. 
 Augustine and Leibnitz, 419. 
 Aurelius, Influence of, 322. 
 Authority, Principle of, 6, 8, 9, 17, 
 
 22-42, 46-7, 367 seq., 431. 
 
 Basilides, Philosophy of, 270-291. 
 Bayle and Leibnitz, 409 seq. 
 Berkeley and Personal Idealism, 
 
 107. 
 Bernardino, Telesio, Cosmogony 
 
 of, 52-3- 
 Bible, Newman's view of, 6, 9. 
 Bible, Marcion's view of, 27. 
 Bible, Augustine's view of, 327. 
 Biblical criticism, Newman's idea 
 
 of, 40. 
 Biblical criticism, Loisy's idea of, 
 
 40-1. 
 BibUcal criticism, in relation to 
 
 history, 168. 
 Bradley, F. H., Philosophy of, 
 
 140- 1. 
 Bradley, F. H., on Pantheism, 455. 
 Browning on " Godship," 447. 
 
 Calvin, Doctrines of, 402. 
 Calvinism and Jewish religion, 434. 
 Carlyle on " victorious analysis," 55. 
 Carlyle on Man and the Infinite, 
 
 461. 
 Carpocratians, Doctrine of the, 258. 
 Carus, P., on Gnosticism, 256. 
 Categories of Kant, 61. 
 Causality and Knowledge, 80-3. 
 
INDEX 
 
 481 
 
 Causality and Creation, 130. 
 
 Cerinthus, Doctrine of, 260-3, 
 
 Change and permanence, 128-130. 
 
 Christianity, Historical relations of, 
 6-8, 14, 39, 178, 187-9, 252-6, 
 263, 264-7, 288-9, 302, 316, 323 
 seq., 4.04 seq., 453. 
 
 Christianity independent of Autho- 
 rity, 36-7. 
 
 Christianity indestructible in prin- 
 ciple, 45. 
 
 Christianity, Harnack's idea of, 
 165-192. 
 
 Christianity and Natural Theology, 
 405 seq. 
 
 Christianity, Idea of God in, 431. 
 
 Christianity, Ethics of, 446, 464. 
 
 Christianity and Idealism, 457 seq, 
 
 Christology, Augustine's, 326, 344 
 seq., 350,453. 
 
 Christology, Thomas Aquinas', 387 
 seq. 
 
 Church, Authority of the, 6, 9, 17, 
 
 23-47, 351, 365, 370. 
 Church and State, 390 seq. 
 Clement of Alexandria, Theology 
 
 of, 272. 
 Consciousness, "Subliminal," 150-8. 
 Contradiction, Principle of, 420. 
 Copernicus and Modern thought, 51. 
 Creation and experience, 129-130. 
 Creation, doctrine of, 336 Jtf^., 340, 
 
 356, 380, 415. 
 
 Dante, on doubt, 35. 
 Descartes and Augustine, 327. 
 Descartes and Luther, 398. 
 Descartes, Finite and Infinite in, 
 
 403. 
 Descartes and Spinoza, 403. 
 Descartes and Leibnitz, 421. 
 Desire, Relation of, to reason, 96. 
 Development of doctrine, 9-48. 
 Development, Historical, 347. 
 Docetism, 257- 
 Dogma, Idea of, 6-48, 165-192, 
 
 367, 372- 
 Dualism, Medieval, 14, 39. 
 DuaUsm, Kant*s refutation of, 75. 
 
 Ebionites, Doctrine of the, 261-2. 
 Ecstasy, Doctrine of, 202-3, 317, 
 
 321, 45I-453- 
 Emanation, Doctrine of, 317-320. 
 
 Emerson, on Truth, 39. 
 Empiricism, Influence of, 101-2. 
 Encratites, Doctrine of the, 257. 
 Epicureanism, Ethics of, 315. 
 Epiphanes, Doctrine of, 258. 
 Essenes, Doctrines of the, 257. 
 Ethics of Stoics, 315. 
 Ethics of Epicureans, 315. 
 Ethics of Plotinus, 320-1, 450. 
 Ethics of Aquinas, 375. 
 Evil, Doctrine of, 211, 230 seq., 
 
 242, 324, 341, 358 seq., 383 seq., 
 
 402, 409 seq. , 449 seq. 
 Experience and reality, 61 seq., 
 
 151-8. 
 
 Faith, Doctrine of, 10-23, 42, 83 
 seq., 146-7, 326, 370, 409. 
 
 Freedom, Idea of, 56 seq,, 74, 89- 
 98, loi, 130, 341 seq., 413 seq. 
 
 Genius, Authority of, 25, 29, 33, 
 
 35-6. 
 Gnosticism, Relation of, to Chris- 
 tianity, 39, 251-7. 
 Gnosticism, Forms of, 257-298. 
 Gnosticism and Greek Philosophy, 
 
 264. 
 Gnosticism and Scripture, 265-6. 
 Gnosticism, Relation of, to Philo, 
 
 265-9. 273. 
 Gnosticism and the Church, 267, 
 
 292. 
 Gnosticism, Theology of, 268-292. 
 Gnosticism, and Spinoza, 269. 
 Gnosticism, Conception of evil in, 
 
 278-293. 
 Gnosticism, Conception of " aeons " 
 
 in, 278-9. 
 Gnosticism, Ethics of, 292-8. 
 Gnosticism, Relation of, to Plotinus, 
 
 317, 320. 
 God, Knowledge of, 18-21, 131-4. 
 God, Proofs of existence of, 53-55, 
 
 70-5, 89-91, 97-8, 203-5, 218, 
 
 377 seq. 
 God, Idea of, 98-113, 130-4, 168, 
 
 174-7, 204-7, 210-12, 214-221, 
 
 226-7, 242-4, 268-278, 32s seq., 
 
 353 ^^^- . 368 seq. , 409 seq. , 43 1 seq. 
 Goethe, on development, 14. 
 Gospel, Fourth, and philosophy, 6. 
 Gospel, Authorship of, 178. 
 Gospel and Philo, 195, 236-7, 242-3. 
 
 2H 
 
482 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Gospel, '• Logos" of, 195, 245-7. 
 Gospel, Idea of God in, 243-4. 
 Gospel and Christianity, 253. 
 Gospel and Neo-platonism, 322. 
 Grace, Doctrine of, 345 seq^ 360, 415. 
 Green, T. H., Philosophy of, 139- 
 140. 
 
 Hamilton, Sir Wm., 102, 243. 
 Harnack and Loisy, 42-5, 
 Harnack, Wesen des Christentums 
 
 of, 165-192. 
 Harnack, on Nillenizing of N.T., 
 
 235-6. 
 Harnack, on Pauline Theology, 
 
 238-240. 
 Hecataeus, Allegorical method of, 
 
 199. 
 Hegel's idea of religion, 45. 
 Hegel's Criticism of Kant, 139. 
 Hegel's Comment on "intuition," 
 
 155- 
 Hildebrand and the papal theory, 
 
 367. 
 Hippolytus, on Basilides, 270- 1 , 
 
 281-2, 284-5, 287-90. 
 Hume's theory of knowledge, 59, 
 Hypotheses, W. James on, 144-5. 
 
 lamblichus. Philosophy of, 323. 
 
 Idea, content and image, 109, 
 
 '' 113-11S. 123-4. 
 
 Idealism, Speculative, and the Cri- 
 tical philosophy, loo-i. 
 
 Idealism, Speculative, and Personal, 
 102- 1 13, 136-7. 
 
 Idealism, Speculative, and the New 
 Realism, 1 13-137. 
 
 Idealism, Speculative, and Pan- 
 theism, 135, 440 jfi^., 4S4seq. 
 
 Idealism, Speculative, Idea of God 
 in, 430, 456 seq. 
 
 Idealism, Speculative, and Agnostic- 
 ism, 431 set/. 
 
 Idealism, Speculative, and Pluralism, 
 
 433- 
 
 Idealism, Speculative, and Mystic- 
 ism, AUseq., 457. 
 
 Idealism, Speculative, Idea of evil 
 in, 452 seq. 
 
 Idealism, Speculative, Relation of, 
 to Christianity, ^^J seq. 
 
 Idealism, Speculative, Theory of 
 redemption of, 462. 
 
 Immortality, Problem of, 53-5, 70-1, 
 
 89-91. 
 Incarnation, Doctrine of, 326, 412. 
 Infinite and finite, 16-21, 23-4, 98, 
 
 134, 402, 460. 
 Intellect and will, 374. 
 Irenaeus, on the Gnostics, 251 , 
 
 254-6, 261. 
 
 James, W., Relation of, to Harnack, 
 
 137. 
 James, W., Pragmatism of, 141-9, 
 
 158-164. 
 James, W., Varieties of Religious 
 
 Experience of, 149-158. 
 Jesus Christ, Authority of, 25. 
 Jesus Christ, Self-consciousness of, 
 
 37. 40-1. 
 Jesus Christ, Harnack's view of, 
 
 178-190. 
 Jesus Christ, Basilides' view of, 291. 
 Jesus Christ, Mani's view of, 306. 
 Jesus Christ, Augustine's view of, 
 
 326, Z^^seq., 350, 453. 
 Jesus Christ, Aquinas' view of, 
 
 387 seq. 
 Jowett, B., on religious scepticism, 
 
 172. 
 Judaism, Later, 265-6. 
 Judaism, and Calvinism, 434. 
 
 Kant, Influence of, 50. 
 
 Kant, Problem of, 54-6. 
 
 Kant, Defence of Freedom, immor- 
 tality and God, 56-101. 
 
 Kant, Relation of recent philosophy 
 to, 7S' 
 
 Kant and Aquinas, 377. 
 
 Knowledge of Infinite, 17-23, 131-5. 
 
 Knowledge, Critical Theory of, 
 58-84. 
 
 Knowledge, Hume's theory of, 59-60. 
 
 Knowledge and faith, 83-88, 370. 
 
 Laplace, on idea of God, 53. 
 Law, Natural, 50-5, go- 1. 
 Law, Jewish, 228-30, 249. 
 Leibnitz and Personal Idealism, 107. 
 Leibnitz, Th^odic^e of, 400 seq. 
 Lewes, G. H., Idea of Philosophy 
 
 of, 49-50- 
 Lightfoot, on the Essenes, 257 n. 
 Logos, Doctrine of the, I95, 22 1-230, 
 
 245-9, 412. 
 
INDEX 
 
 483 
 
 Loisy, Abb6, Defence of Authority 
 
 by, 40-7. 
 Lotze, Influence of, loi. 
 Lotze and Kant, 166. 
 Luther and Descartes, 399. 
 
 Man and nature, 50-8, 67, 93, 373. 
 Man, Freedom of, 67-8, 374. 
 Man as moral being, 68-9, 93-7. 
 Man, ImmortaUty of, 70-5. 
 Man and God, 452. 
 Man and Infinite, 460. 
 Manichaeism, Origin of, 301-2. 
 Manichaeismand Christianity, 302-3. 
 Manichaeism, Doctrines of, 303-7. 
 Manichaeism, Augustine's relation 
 
 to, 307-8, 313. 334. 358, 361, 
 
 453- 
 Manichaeism and Neo-platonism , 
 
 323- 
 Manichaeism, Leibnitz' criticism of, 
 
 411. 
 Mansel's Limits of Religious 
 
 Thought^ 21, 102. 
 Marcion's view of O.T., 27. 
 Mathematics, Philosophy of, 58-60, 
 
 114, 121-7. 
 Matter, Idea of, 86-8, 201-5, 209-10, 
 
 218, 320, 450. 
 Melanchthon, Loci of, 400. 
 Mellone, S.H., on Newman, 9. 
 Metrodorus, Allegorical method of, 
 
 199. 
 Middle Ages, Character of, 51-2, 
 
 •7,62 seg., 389, 395^^$'- 
 Mind, Idea of, 86-8. 
 Monism and Personal Idealism, 
 
 105-6. 
 Monotheism of Plato and Aristotle, 
 
 264, 315. 
 Morality and religion, 68-94, ^46. 
 
 448 seq. 
 Myers, F., Defects of, 155. 
 Mysticism, Newman's opposition to, 
 
 18. 
 Mysticism, Value of, 39. 
 Mysticism and Idealism, 434 seq.^ 
 
 457. 
 Mysticism and Agnosticism, 435. 
 Mysticism and Pantheism, 440-450, 
 
 464. 
 Mysticism, Christian, 449. 
 Mysticism of Plotinus, 450. 
 Mysticism and Christianity, 463. 
 
 Nature, Idea of, 59, 61, 91, 93, 98, 
 
 loi, 126-9. 
 Neo-platonism, Value of, 39. 
 Neo-platonism, Origin of, 302, 315- 
 
 316. 
 Neo-platonism and Christianity, 316, 
 
 453. 
 Neo-platonism, Doctrines of, 317 
 
 seq., 430, ^S^seq. 
 Neo-platonism, Influence of, on 
 
 Augustine, 330 seq., 335, 342, 
 
 356, 360, 453. 
 Neo-platonism and Ambrose, 330 
 
 seq. 
 Neo-platonism and Pantheism, 454, 
 Newman's theory of development, 
 
 9-24, 40. 
 Nicolaus Cusanus, Cosmogony of, 
 
 52-3* 
 
 Optimism, 349, 456 seq. 
 Origen and Aquinas, 381. 
 
 Pantheism and Mysticism, 440 seq., 
 
 464. 
 Pantheism and Neo-platonism, 
 
 454-. 
 
 Pantheism, Doctrines of, 454 seq., 
 
 464. 
 Pantheism and Christianity, 464. 
 Pantheism and Idealism, 440 seq., 
 
 456. 
 Paul, St., Relation of, to Philosophy, 
 
 6, 154- 
 Paul, St., and Philo, 233, 240-2. 
 Paul, St., Allegorical method of, 
 
 233-4. 265-6. 
 Paul, St., Theology of, 238-40, 249, 
 
 251. 253, 289, 292, 411, 462. 
 Paul, St., on Gnosticism, 258-60. 
 Paul, St., Philosophy of history of, 
 
 265, 434- 
 Paul, St., and Augustine, 326. 
 Paul, St., and Aquinas, 384. 
 Pelagianism and Augustine, 341. j^^., 
 
 358 seq. 
 Personality, 103-5, 112-113. 
 Pessimism, 45. 
 Phenomena and noumena, 65-66, 
 
 78-88. 
 Philip's defence of freedom, 297-S. 
 Philo, Philosophy of, 193-251. 
 Philo, Relation of, to Plato and 
 
 Aristotle, 193-4, 198, 200. 
 
484 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Philo and the Fourth Gospel, 195, 
 
 236-7, 242-5. 
 Philo, Allegorical method of, 198- 
 
 200, 206-7, 217. 
 Philo and the Stoics, 200. 
 Philo and Spinoza, 215. 
 Philo and the Pythagoreans, 208, 
 
 219. 
 Philo and St. Paul, 233, 240-2. 
 Philo and Hebrews^ 235. 
 Philo and Sir Wm. Hamilton, 243. 
 Philo and the Gnostics, 263, 265-6, 
 
 273- 
 Philo, Extracts from, see Appendix. 
 Philosophy and Life, I. 
 Philosophy, Modern, Development 
 
 of, 50. 
 Philosophy, Problem of, 75. 
 Philosophy, Greek, and Mythology, 
 
 315- 
 
 Philosophy and Theology, 369. 
 Physics, Kant's view of, 58-60. 
 Plato and Philo, 193, 198, 200. 
 Plato, Philosophy of, 201, 209, 264, 
 
 Plato and Plotinus, 318. 
 Plato and Augustine, 338. 
 Plotinus, Philosophy of, 317 seq.^ 
 
 450 seq. , 463. 
 Plotinus and Gnosticism, 317, 320. 
 Plotinus and Plato, 318. 
 Plotinus and Aristotle, 318. 
 Plotinus and later Neo-platonists, 
 
 322 seq. 
 Pluralism and Personal Idealism, 
 
 106. 
 Pope, Pantheism of, 455. 
 Porphyry, Philosophy of, 322 seq. 
 Porphyry and Aquinas, 386. 
 Pragmatism as a method, 138-149. ' 
 Pragmatism as a theory of truth, 
 
 158-164. 
 Predestination, 347, 360 seq.^ 402, 
 
 409, 413 seq. 
 Providence, 340, 381 seq., 414, 457 
 
 seq. 
 Psychology and Epistemology, 78. 
 Pythagoreans and Philo, 20S, 219. 
 
 RashduU, H. , Personal IdeaUsm of, 
 
 103-113. 
 Rationalism and the Church, 39. 
 Realism, New, and Idealism, 113- 
 
 Reason, Comprehension of Infinite 
 
 by, 17-24, 71, 78. 
 Reason and experience, 29-35. 
 Reason, Theoretical and Practical, 
 
 96-9. 
 Reason and Faith, 98, 367 seq.^ 406 
 
 seq. 
 Redemption, Doctrine of, 327, 344 
 
 seq., 350, 387 -r^?-) 452. 
 Reformation, Influence of, 395 seq* 
 Religion, Nature of, 1-6, 12-16, 22- 
 
 32, 45, 99, 147-8, 165-192, 352. 
 Religion, Philosophy of, 1-3, 49, 
 
 157-8, 168-9, 190-2. 
 Religion and Morality, 450 seq. 
 Renan's view of theology, 7. 
 Ritschl's idea of religion, 166, 190. 
 
 Sabatier and Loisy, 42-44. 
 Sacraments, Doctrine of the, 349> 
 
 3S9 seq. 
 Scepticism, 45, 145, 315. 
 Schleiermacher's idea of religion, 
 
 12, 166, 190. 
 Scholasticism, 51, 52. 
 Scholasticism and Leibnitz, 421. 
 Science and religion, 25, 31-2, 173-4. 
 Science, History of, 50. 
 Science and philosophy, 84-5, 145-6. 
 Sensation, Kant's view of, 81. 
 Sensation, Realistic view of, 114, 
 
 1 19-21. 
 Shakespeare on vision, 14. 
 Sin, Doctrine of, 383 seq., 401. 
 Smith, Goldwin, In Quest of Light 
 
 of, 48-9- 
 Socinians, Doctrine of, 401. 
 
 CSpUpsism and New Realism, po. 
 "Soul and body, 230-2, 250, '320,^ 
 fc- 373-4, 412, 42J seq., 450. v-vr-i-^ 
 Space, Philosophy of, 60, 79, 340, 
 
 357> 425- 
 Spencer, Herbert, *' Unknowable " 
 
 of, 21, 102. 
 Spinoza and Philo, 215. 
 Spinoza and Gnosticism, 269. 
 Spinoza and Augustine, 356. 
 Spinoza, Philosophy of, 399 seq. ; 
 
 4/^0 seq., 454. 
 Spinoza and Descartes, 403. 
 Stoicism and Christianity, 39. 
 Stoicism and Philo, 200. 
 Stoicism, Ethics of, 315. 
 Stoicism, Allegorical method of, 315. 
 
INDEX 
 
 485 
 
 Theology, Problem of, 1-3. 
 Theology and religion, 15-16, 168-9, 
 
 190-192. 
 Theology, Value of, 49, 157-8, 
 Theology and Philosophy, 398. 
 Theology, Post- Reformation, 398- 
 
 400. 
 Theology, Natural and Revealed, 
 
 424 seq. 
 Theology, Development of, 430. 
 Thomas Aquinas and his age, 24, 
 
 365. 
 Thomas Aquinas and Augustine, 
 
 362, 368, 388. 
 Thomas Aquinas and Aristotle, 366- 
 
 370, 373-375- 
 Thomas Aquinas, Philosophy and 
 
 Theology of, 362 seq. 
 Thomas Aquinas and Anselm, 367, 
 
 377. 
 Thomas Aquinas and Kant, 377. 
 Thomas Aquinas and Origen, 381. 
 Thomas Aquinas and St. Paul, 384, 
 
 395- 
 Thomas Aquinas and Porphyry, 386. 
 
 Thomas Aquinas, Harnack on, 390. 
 Time, Philosophy of, 60, 79, 128, 
 
 212-213, %Z9seq., 358. 
 Trinity, Doctrine of the, 332 seq,, 
 
 353 ^eg-, 378 seq,^ 401 seq,, 412. 
 Truth, Nature of, 10, 16, 17, 23, 38-9, 
 
 41, 44-5, 158-164, 406 seq.^ 424 
 
 seq. 
 
 Universe as self-complete, 130. 
 
 Valentinus and Philo, 269. 
 Valentinus and Spinoza, 269. 
 Valentinus, Philosophy of, 269-270, 
 
 279-281. 
 Valentinus, Followers of, 291. 
 Virtues, List of, 232-3, 251. 
 
 Ward, W., on Authority, 24-40, 
 
 46-7. 
 Will, Nature of, 374, 417. 
 Will, Freedom of, 374. 
 Wisdom of Solomon, Allegorical 
 
 method of, 200. 
 
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