c$> •*. b %^ \# '-■ vi. ^W . ^ v ^ °- &* * ^c* 5- Y V <£ ^e. s f^ % ^<$ ^0* ^ , ^ <6 Q ■*•. AO ^ °^ cF a. v * o / r - ^.t* <>5 <3«, c$ ^ <^ - r # A^ f O v - «A * o / % (PV^',% c^a!A -O v *. i * o . G u ^ ■ay > ^^p&p .y? ^ „ "%> V v ,. v * o, ^ \> A * o , ^% A «y # # -, ^ n cS> -fit THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. LUDWft/F] fonslflfei from tin ItnnA fttmmt ffi&m, BY MARIAN EYANS, TRANSLATOR OF " STRAUSS's LIFE OF JESUS." NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY CALVIN BLANCHARD, 82 NASSAU STREET. 1855. \n ; '' ECKLER, PRINTER, 27 FULTON STREET, N. Y. • PREFACE THE SECOND EDITION. The clamour excited by the present work has not stir- prised me, and hence it has not in the least moved me trom my position. On the contrary, I have once more, m all calmness, subjected my work to the severest scrutiny, both historical and philosophical ; I have as far as possible, freed it from its defects of form, and enriched it with new developments, illustrations and Historical testimonies,— testimonies in the highest de- gree striking and irrefragable. Now that I have thus verified my analysis by historical proofs, it is to be Hoped that readers whose eyes are not sealed will be convinced and will admit, even though reluctantly, that my work contains a faithful, correct translation ol tne Christian religion out of the oriental language of imagery into plain speech. And it has no preten- sion to be anything more than a close translation, or, to speak literally, an empirical or historico-philoso- plncal analysis, a solution of the enigma of the Chris- tian religion. The general propositions which I pre- mise in the Introduction are no a priori, excogitated propositions, no products of speculation : they have arisen out of the analysis of religion : they are only, as indeed are all the fundamental ideas of the work generalizations from the known manifestations of hu- man nature, and in particular of the religious con- sciousness,— facts converted into thoughts, i. e., ex- 4 PREFACE. pressed in general terms, and thus made the property of the understanding. /The ideas of my work are only conclusions, consequences, drawn from premises which are not themselves mere ideas, but objective facts either actual or historical — facts which had not their place in my head simply in virtue of their ponderous existence in folio. I unconditionally repudiate absolute, immaterial, self-sufficing speculation, — that speculation which draws its material from within. I differ toto ccelo from those philosophers who pluck out their eyes that they may see better ; for my thought I require the senses, especially sight ; I found my ideas on materials which can be appropriated only through the activity of the senses. I do not generate the object from the thought, but the thought from the object ; and I hold that alone to be an object which has an existence beyond one's own brain./ I am an idealist only in the region of practical philosophy, that is, J do not regard the limits of the past and present as the limits of humanity, of the future ; on the contrary, I firmly believe that many things, — yes, many things — which, with the short- sighted, pusillanimous practical men of to-day, pass for flights of imagination, for ideas never to be realized, for mere chimeras, will to-morrow, i. e., in the next century, — centuries in individual life are days in the life of humanity — exist in full reality. Briefly, the " Idea" is to me only faith in the historical future, in the triumph of truth and virtue ; it has for me only a political and moral significance^ for in the sphere of strictly theoretical philosophy, I attach myself, in direct opposition to the Hegelian philosophy, only to realism, to materialism in the sense above indicated. The maxim hitherto adopted by speculative philoso- phy : all that is mine I carry with me, the old omnia mea mecum porto, I cannot, alas ! appropriate. 1 have many things outside myself, which I cannot convey either in my pocket or my head, but which neverthe- less I look upon as belonging to me, not indeed as a mere man — a view not now in question — but as a PREFACE. 5 philosopher. I am nothing but a natural philosopher in the domain of mind ; and the natural philosopher can do nothing without instruments, without material means. In this character I have written the present work, which consequently contains nothing else than the principle of a new philosophy verified practically, i. e., in concreto, in application to a special object, but an object which has a universal significance: namely, to religion, in which this principle is exhibited, deve- loped and thoroughly carried out. \ This philosophy is essentiallv distinguished from the systems hitherto prevalent, in that it corresponds to the real, complete nature of man; but for that very reason it is antago- nistic to minds perverted and crippled by a superhu- man, i. e., anti-human, anti-natural religion and specu- lation. It does not, as I have already said elsewhere, regard the pen as the only fit organ for the revelation of truth, but the eye and ear, the hand and foot; it does not identify the idea of the fact with the fact itself, so as to reduce real existence to an existence on paper, but it separates the two, and precisely by this separation attains to the fact itself; it recognises as the true thing, not the thing as it is an object of the abstract reason, but as an object of the real, com- plete man, and hence as it is itself a real, complete thing. This philosophy does not rest on an Under- standing per se, on an absolute, nameless understand- ing, belonging one knows not to whom, but on the understanding of man ; — though not, I grant, on that of man enervated by speculation and dogma ; — and it speaks the language of men, not an empty, unknown tongue. Yes, both in substance and in speech, it places philosophy in the negation of philosophy, i. e., it declares that alone to be the true philosophy which is converted in succum et sanguinem, which is incarnate in Man ; and hence it finds its highest triumph in the fact that to all dull and pedantic minds, which place the essence of philosophy in the show of philosophy, it appears to be no philosophy at all. 6 PREFACE. ] This philosophy has for its principle, not the Sub- stance of Spinoza, not the ego of Kant and Fichte, not the Absolute Identity of Schelling, not the Absolute Mind of Hegel, in short, no abstract, merely concep- tional being, but a real being, the true Ens realissimum — man ; its principle, therefore, is in the highest de- gree positive and real. It generates thought from the opposite of thought, from Matter, from existence, from the senses ; it has relation to its object first through the senses, u e., passively, before defining it in thought. Hence my work, as a specimen of this philosophy, so far from being a production to be placed in the category of Speculation, — although in another point of view it is the true, the incarnate result of prior philosophical systems, — is the direct opposite of speculation, nay, puts an end to it by explaining it. Speculation makes religion say only what it has itself thought, and expressed far better than religion ; it assigns a meaning to religion without any reference to the actual meaning of religion; it does not look be- yond itself. I, on the contrary, let religion itself speak; I constitute myself only its listener and interpreter, not its prompter. Xot to invent, but to discover, " to un- veil existence," has been my sole object; to see cor- rectly, my sole endeavour. It is not I, but religion that worships man, although religion, or rather theo- logy, denies this ; it is not I, an insignificant indivi- dual, but religion itself that says: God is man, man is God: it is not I, but religion that denies the God who 18 not man, but only an ens rationis, — since it makes God become man, and then constitutes this God, not distinguished from man, having a human form, human feelings and human thoughts, the object of its worship and veneration. 1 have only found the key to the cipher of the Christian religion, only extricated its true meaning from the web of contradictions and de- lusions called theology : — but in doing so 1 have cer- tainly committed a sacrilege. If therefore my work is negative, irreligious, atheistic, let it be remembered PREFACE. 7 that atheism — at least in the sense of this work — is the secret of religion itself ; that religion itself, not indeed on the surface, but fundamentally, not in inten- tion or according to its own supposition, but in its heart, in its essence, believes in nothiug else than the truth and divinity of human nature. Or let it be proved that the historical as well as the rational argu- ments of my work are false ; let them be refuted — not, however, 1 entreat, by judicial denunciations, or theological jeremiads, by the trite phrases of specula- tion, or other pitiful expedients for which I have no name, but by reasons, and such reasons as I have not already thoroughly answered. Certainly, my work is negative, destructive; but, be it observed, only in relation to the inhuman, not to the human elements of religion. It is therefore divided into two parts, of which the first is, as to its main idea, positive, the second, including the appendix, not wholly but in the main, negative; in both, how- ever, the same positions are proved, only in a different or rather opposite manner. The first exhibits religion in its essence, its truth, the second exhibits it in its contradictions ; the first is development, the second polemic; thus the one is, according to the nature of the case, calmer, the other more vehement. Develop- ment advances gently, contest impetuously ; for deve- lopment is self-contented at every stage, contest only at the last blow. Development is deliberate, but contest resolute. Development is light, contest fire. Hence results a difference between the two parts even as to their form. Thus in the first part I show that the true sense of Theology is Anthropology, and there is no distinction between the predicates of the divine and human nature, and, consequently, no distinction between the divine and human subject : I say conse- quently, for wherever, as is especially the case in theo- logy, the predicates are not accidents, but express the essence of the subject, there is no distinction between subject and predicate, the one can be put in the place 8 PREFACE. of the other ; on which point I refer the reader to the Analytics of Aristotle, or even merely to the Intro- duction of Porphyry. In the second part, on the other hand, I show that the distinction which is made, or rather supposed to be made, between the theological and anthropological predicates, resolves itself into an absurdity. Here is a striking example. In the first part I prove that the Son of God is in religion a real son, the son of God in the same sense in which man is the son of man, and I find therein the truth, the essence of religion, that it conceives and affirms a profoundly human relation as a divine relation : on the other hand, in the second part I show that the Son of God — not indeed in religion, but in theology, which is the reflec- tion of religion upon itself, — is not a son in the natural, human sense, but in an entirely different manner, con- tradictory to Nature and reason, and therefore absurd, and I find in this negation of human sense and the hu- man understanding, the negation of religion. Accord- ingly the first part is the direct, the second the indirect proof, that theology is antropology : hence the second part necessarily has reference to» the first ; it has no independent significance ; its only aim is to show, that the sense in which religion is interpreted in the pre- vious part of the work must be the true one, because the contrary is absurd. In brief, in the first part I am chiefly concerned with religion, in the second with theology: I say chiefly, for it was impossible to exclude theology from the first part, or religion from the second. A mere glance will show that my investigation includes speculative theology or philosophy, and not, as has been here and there erroneously supposed, common theology only, a kind of trash from which I rather keep as clear as possible, (though, for the rest, I am sufficiently well acquainted with it,) confining myself always to the most essential, strict and necessary definition of the object,* and hence to that definition which gives to an * For example, in considering the sacraments, I limit myself to two ; for, in the strictest sense (see Luther, t. xvii, p. 558), there are no more. PREFACE. 9 object the most general interest, and raises it above the sphere of theology. But it is with theology that I have to do, not with theologians ; for I can only undertake to characterize what is primary, — the ori- ginal, not the copy, principles, not persons, species, not individuals, objects of history, not objects of the chroni- que scandaleuse. If my work contained only the second part, it would be perfectly just to accuse it of a negative tendency, to represent the proposition : Religion is nothing, is an absurdity, as its essential purport. But I by no means say (that were an easy task !) : God is nothing, the Trinity is nothing, the Word of God is nothing, &c; I only show that they are not that which the illusions of theology make them, — not foreign, but native myste- ries, the mysteries of human nature ; I show that reli- gion takes the apparent, the superficial in Nature and humanity, for the essential, and hence conceives their true essence as a separate, special existence : that con- sequently, religion, in the definitions which it gives of God, e. g., of the Word of God, — at least in those de- finitions which are not negative in the sense above al- luded to, — only defines or makes objective the true na- ture of the human word. The reproach that according to my book, religion is an absurdity, a nullity, a pure illusion, would bet well-founded only if, according to it, that into which I resolve religion, which I prove to be its true object and substance, namely man, — anthro- pology, were an absurdity, a nullity, a pure illusion. But so far from giving a trivial or even a subordinate significance to anthropology, — a significance which is assigned to it only just so long as a theology stands above it and in opposition to it, — I, on the contrary, while reducing theology to anthropology exalt an- thropology into theology, very much as Christianity, while lowering God into man, made man into God ; though, it is true, this human God was by a further process made a transcendental, imaginary God, remote from man. Hence it is obvious that I do not take the A3 10 PREFACE. word anthropology in the sense of the Hegelian or of any other philosophy, but in an infinitely higher and more general sense. Religion is the dream of the human mind. But even in dreams we do not find ourselves in emptiness or in heaven, but on earth, in the realm of reality ; we only see real things in the entrancing splendour of imagin- ation and caprice, instead of in the simple daylight of reality and necessity. Hence I do nothing more to religion — and to speculative philosophy and theology also — than to open its eyes, or rather to turn its gaze from the internal towards the external, i. e., I change the object as it is in the imagination into the object as it is in reality. But certainly for the present age, which prefers the sign to the thing signified, the copy to the original, fancy to reality, the appearance to the essence, this change, inasmuch as it does away with illusion, is an ab- solute annihilation, or at least a reckless profanation ; for in these days illusion only is sacred, truth profane. JTay, sacredness is held to be enhanced in proportion as truth decreases and illusion increases, so that the highest degree of illusion comes to be the highest de- gree of sacredness. Religion has disappeared, and for it has been substituted, even among Protestants, the appearance of religion — the Church — in order at least tnat " the faith" may be imparted to the ignorant and indiscriminating multitude ; that faith being still the Christian, because the Christian churches stand now as they did a thousand years ago, and now, as formerly, the external signs of the faith are in vogue. That which has no longer any existence in faith J( the faith of the modern world is only an ostensible faith, a faith which does not believe what it fancies that it believes, and is only an undecided, pusillanimous unbelief— Jl is still to pass current as opinion: that which is no longer sacred in itself and in truth, is still at least to seem sacred. Hence the simulated religious indignation of the pre- sent age, the age of shows and illusion, concerning PBEFACE. II my analysis, especially of the Sacraments. But let it not be demanded of an author who proposes to himself as his goal not the favour of his contemporaries, but only the truth, the unveiled, naked truth, that he should have or feign respect towards an empty ap- pearance, especially as the object which underlies this appearance is in itself the culminating point of reli- gion, i. e., the point at which the religious slides into the irreligious. Thus much in justification, not in excuse, of my analysis of the Sacraments. With regard to the true bearing of my analysis of the sacraments, especially as presented in the conclud- ing chapter, I only remark, that I therein illustrate by a palpable and visible example the essential purport, the peculiar theme of my work, that I therein call upon the senses themselves to witness to the truth of my ana* lysis and my ideas, and demonstrate ad oculos, ad factum, ad gustum, what I have taught ad captum throughout the previous pages. As, namely, the water of Baptism, the wine and bread of the Lord's Supper, taken in their natural power and significance, are and effect infinitely more than in a supernaturalistic, illusory significance; so the object of religion in general, conceived in the sense of this work, i. e., the anthropological sense, is infinitely more productive and real, both in theory and practice, than when accepted in the sense of theo- logy. For as that which is or is supposed to be im- parted in the water, bread, and wine, over and above these natural substances themselves, is something in the imagination only, but in truth, in reality, nothing; so also the object of religion in general, the Divine essence, in distinction from the essence of Nature and Humanity, — that is to say, if its attributes, as under- standing, love, &c, are and signify something else than these attributes as they belong to man and Nature, — is only something in the imagination, but in truth and reality nothing. Therefore — this is the moral of the fable — we should not, as is the case in theology and speculative philosophy, make real beings and 12 PREFACE. things into arbitrary signs, vehicles, symbols, or pre- dicates of a distinct, transcendant, absolute, i. e., ab- stract being; but we shoud accept and understand them in the significance which they have in themselves, which is identical with their qualities, with those conditions which make them what they are : — thus only do we obtain the key to a real theory and practice. I, in fact, put in the place of the barren baptismal water, the beneficent effect of real water. How " watery," how trivial ! Yes, indeed, very trivial. But so Marriage, in its time, was a very trivial truth, which Luther, on the ground of his natural good sense, maintained in opposition to the seemingly holy illusion of celibacy. But while I thus view water as a real thing, I at the same time intend it as a vehicle, an image, an example, a symbol, of the " unholy" spirit of my work, just as the water of Baptism — the object of my analysis — is at once literal and symbolical water. It is the same with bread and wine. Malignity has hence drawn the con- clusion that bathing, eating and drinking are the sum.- ma summarum, the positive result of my work. I make no other reply than this : if the whole of religion is contained in the Sacraments, and there are conse- quently no other religious acts than those which are performed in Baptism and the Lord's Supper ; then I grant that the entire purport and positive result of my work are bathing, eating and drinking, since this work is nothing but a faithful, rigid liistorico-philosophical analysis of religion — the revelation of religion to it- self, the awakening of religion to self-consciousness. I say an liistorico-philosophical analysis, in distinction from a merely historical analysis of Christianity. The historical critic — such a one, for example, as Daumer or Ghillany — shows that the Lord's Supper is a rite lineally descended from the ancient Cultus of human sacrifice ; that once, instead of bread and wine, real human flesh and blood were partaken. J, on the con- trary, take as the object of my analysis and reduction only the Christian significance of the rite, that view PREFACE. 13 of it which is sanctioned in Christianity, and I proceed on the supposition that only that significance which a dogma or institution has in Christianity (of course in ancient Christianity, not in modern,) whether it may present itself in other religions or not, is also the true origin of that dogma or institution in so far as it is /Christian J Again, the historical critic, as, for example, / Lutzelberger, shows that the narratives of the miracles I of Christ resolve themselves into contradictions and \ absurdities, that they are later fabrications, and that consequently Christ was no miracle-worker nor, in ^general, that which he is represented to be in the Bible^ % on the other hand, do not inquire, what the real, natural Christ was or may have been in distinction from what he has been made or has become in Super- naturalism ; on the contrary, I accept the Christ of religion, but I show that this superhuman being is no- thing else than a product and reflex of the supernatural human mind. I do not ask whether this or that, or any miracle can happen or not ; I only show what miracle is 3 and I show it not a priori, but by examples of mir- acles, narrated in the Bible as real events ; in doing so, however, I answer or rather preclude the question as to the possibility or reality or necessity of miracle. Thus much concerning the distinction between me and the historical critics who have attacked Christianity. As regards my relation to Strauss and Bruno Bauer, in company with whom I am constantly named, I merely point out here that the distinction between our works is sufficiently indicated by the distinction between their objects, which is implied even in the^ title-page. Bauer takes for the object of his criticism" the evangelical history, i. e., biblical Christianity, or rather biblical theology ; Strauss, the System of Christian Doctrine and the Life of Jesus, (which may also be included under the title of Christian Doctrine, i. e., dogmatic Christianity or rather dogmatic theo- logy ; I, Christianity in general, i. e., the Christian religion^ and consequently, only Christian philosophy 14 PREFACE. or theology. Hence I take my citations chiefly from men in whom Christianity was not merely a theory or a dogma, not merely theology, but religion. My prin- cipal theme is Christianity, is Religion, as it is the immediate object, the immediate nature, of man. Erudi- tion and philosophy are to me only the means by which I bring to light the treasure hid in man. I must further mention that the circulation which my work has had amongst the public at large, was neither desired nor expected by me. It is true that I have always taken as the standard of the mode of teaching and writing, not the abstract, particular, professional philosopher, but universal man, that I have regarded man as the criterion of truth, and not this or that founder of a system, and have from the first placed the highest excellence of the philosopher in this, that he abstains, both as a man and as an author, from the ostentation of philosophy, i. e., that he is a philosopher only in reality, not formally, that he is a quiet philosopher, not a loud and still less a brawling one. Hence, in all my works as well as in the present one, I have made the utmost clearness, sim- plicity and definiteness, a law to myself, so that they may be understood, at least in the main, by every cultivated and thinking man. But notwithstanding this, my work can be appreciated and fully understood only by the scholar, that is to say, by the scholar who loves truth, who is capable of forming a judgment, who is above the notions and prejudices of the learned and unlearned vulgar ; for although a thoroughly inde- pendent production, it has yet its necessary logical basis in history. I very frequently refer to this or that historical phenomenon without expressly designa- ting it, thinking this superfluous ; and such references can be understood by the scholar alone. Thus, for example, in the very first chapter, where I develope the necessary consequences of the stand-point of Feel- ing, I allude to Jacobi and Schleiermacher ; in the second chapter 1 allude chiefly to Kantism, Scepticism, PREFACE. 15 Theism, Materialism and Pantheism ; in the chapter on the " Stand-point of Religion," where I discuss the contradictions between the religious or theological and the physical or natural-philosophical view of Nature, I refer to philosophy in the age of orthodoxy, and especially to the philosophy of Descartes and Leibnitz, in which this contradiction presents itself in a peculiarly characteristic manner. The reader, there- fore, who is unacquainted with the historical facts and ideas presupposed in my work, will fail to perceive on what my arguments and ideas hinge ; no wonder if my positions often appear to him baseless, however firm the footing on which they stand. It is true that the subject of my work is of universal human interest ; moreover, its fundamental ideas, though not in the form in which they are here expressed, or in which they could be expressed under existing circumstances, will one day become the common property of mankind : for nothing is opposed to them in the present day but empty, powerless illusions and prejudices in contra- diction with the true nature of man. But in consider- ing this subject in the first instance, I was under the necessity of treating it as a matter of science, of philo- sophy ; and in rectifying the aberrations of Religion, Theology, and Speculation, I was naturally obliged to use their expressions, and even to appear to speculate, or — which is the same thing — to turn theologian my- self, while I nevertheless only analyse speculation, i. e., reduce theology to anthropology. My work, as I said before, contains, and applies in the concrete, the prin- ciple of a new philosophy suited — not to the schools, but — to man. Yes, it contains that principle, but only by evolving it out of the very core of religion ; hence, be it said in passing, the new philosophy can no longer, like the old Catholic and modern Protestant scholas- ticism, fall into the temptation to prove its agreement with religion by its agreement with Christian dogmas; on the contrary, being evolved from the nature of re- ligion, it has in itself the true essence of religion, — 16 PREFACE. is. in its very quality as a philosophy, a religion also, 4 But a work which considers ideas in their genesis and explains and demonstrates them in strict sequence, is, by the very form which this purpose imposes upon it, unsuited to popular reading. Lastly, as a supplement to this work with regard to many apparently unvindicated positions. I refer to my articles in the Deutsr.hes Jahrbuch, January and Febru- ary. 1842, to my critiques and Charakteristiken des modernen After-christenthums^ in previous numbers of the same periodical, and to my earlier works, espe- cially the following : — P. Bayle. Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Philosophie und Menschheit, Ausbach, 1838, and Philosophie und Chris tent hum , Mannheim, 1839. - In these works,I have sketched, with a few sharp touches, the historical solution of Christianity, and have shown that Christianity has in fact long vanish- ed, not only from the Reason but from the Life of mankind, that it is nothing more than a fixed idea, in flagrant contradiction with our Fire and Life Assur- ance companies, our rail-roads and steam-carriages, our picture and sculpture galleries, our military and industrial schools, our theatres and scientific museums. LUDWIG FEUERBACH. Bruckberg, Feb. 14, 1843. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION. CHAPTER PAGE I. § 1. The Essential Nature of Man 19 I. § 2. The Essence of Religion considered generally ... 32 Part I. THE TRUE OR ANTHROPOLOGICAL ESSENCE OF RELIGION. IT. God as a Being of the Understanding . 56 III. God as a Moral Being, or Law 70 TV. The Mystery of the Incarnation ; or, God as Love, as a Being of the Heart . . 77 V. The Mystery of the Suffering God '.88 VI. The Mystery of the Trinity and the Mother of God ... 95 VII. The Mystery of the Logos and Divine Image 106 VIII. The Mystery of the Cosmogonical Principle in God . . .114 IX. The Mystery of Mysticism, or Nature in God 122 X. The Mystery of Providence and Creation out of Nothing . 139 XL The Significance of the Creation in Judaism 152 XII. The Omnipotence of Feeling, or the Mystery of Prayer . 162 XIII. The Mystery of Faith— the Mystery of Miracle .... 170 XIV. The Mystery of the Resurrection and of the Miraculus Con- ception 181 XV. The Mystery of the Christian Christ, or the Personal God 187 XVI. The Distinction between Christianity and Heathenism . 199 XVII. The Significance of Voluntary Celibacy and Monachism .211 XVHI. The Christian Heaven, or Personal Immortality . . 222 18 CONTENTS. Part II. THE FALSE OR THEOLOGICAL ESSENCE OF RELIGION. CHAPTKB PAGE XIX. The Essential Stand-point of Religion 240 XX. The Contradiction in the Existence of God 254 XXI. The Contradiction in the Revelation of God 263 XXII. The Contradiction in the Nature of God in general . . . 273 XXIII. The Contradiction in the Speculative Doctrine of God . . 288 XXIV. The Contradiction in the Trinity 295 XXV. The Contradiction in the Sacraments 300 XXVI. The Contradiction of Faith and Love 313 XXVII. Concluding Application 340 APPENDIX. SECTION 1. The Religious Emotions purely Human 351 2. God is Feelin<* released from Limits 353 3. God is the highest Feeling of Self 355 4. Distinction between the Pantheistic and Personal God . . . 356 5. Nature without interest for Christians 361 6. In God Man is his own Object 364 7. Christianity the Religion of Suffering 368 8. Mystery of the Trinity 370 9. Creation out of nothing 376 10. Egoism of the Israelitish Religion 378 11. The Idea of Providence ^ 379 12. Contradiction of Faith and Reason 387 13. The Resurrection of Christ 391 14. The Christian a Supermundane Being 392 15. The Celibate and Monachism 393 16. The Christian Heaven 405 17. What Faith denies on Earth it affirms in Heaven 407 18. Contradictions in the Sacraments 409 19. Contradiction of I uith ami Love . , . . • 412 20. Results of the I Vinci pie of Faith 422 21. Contradiction of the God-Man 432 22. Anthropology the Mystery of Theology 439 THE ESSENCE OP CHRISTIANITY. CHAPTER L INTRODUCTION. § 1. The Essential Nature of Man. Religion has its base in the essential difference be- tween man and the brute — the brutes have no religion. It is true that the old uncritical writers on natural history attributed to the elephant, among other laud- able qualities, the virtue of religiousness ; but the re- ligion of elephants belongs to the realm of fable. Cu- vier, one of the greatest authorities on the animal kingdom, assigns, on the strength of his personal ob- servations, no higher grade of intelligence to the ele- phant than to the dog. But what is this essential difference between man and the brute ? The most simple, general, and also the most popular answer to this question is — conscious- ness : — but consciousness in the strict sense ; for the consciousness implied in the feeling of self as an indi- vidual, in discrimination by the senses, in the percep- tion and even judgment of outward things according to definite sensible signs, cannot be denied to the brutes. Consciousness in the strictest sense is present only in a being to whom his species, his essential na- ture, is an object of thought. The brute is indeed conscious of himself as an individual— and he has ac- 20 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. cordingly the feeling of self as the common centre of successive sensations — but not as a species : hence, he is without that consciousness which in its nature, as in its name, is akin to science. Where there is this higher consciousness there is a capability of science. Science is the cognizance of species. In practical life we have to do with individuals ; in science, with spe- cies. But only a being to whom his own species, his own nature, is an object of thought, can make the essential nature of other things or beings an object of thought. Hence the brute has only a simple, man a twofold life : in the brute, the inner life is one with the outer; man has both an inner and an outer life. The inner life of man is the life which has relation to his species, to his general, as distinguished from his individual, nature. Man thinks — that is, he converses with him- self. The brute can exercise no function which has relation to his species without another individual ex- ternal to itself; but man can perform the functions of thought and speech, which strictly imply such a rela- tion, apart from another individual. Man is himself at once I and thou ; he can put himself in the place of another, for this reason, that to him his species, his essential nature, and not merely his individuality, is an object of thought. Religion being identical with the distinctive cha- racteristic of man, is then identical with self-conscious- ness — with the consciousness which man has of his nature. But religion, expressed generally, is con- sciousness of the infinite ; thus it is and can be nothing else than the consciousness which man has of his own — not finite and limited, but infinite nature. A really finite being has not even the faintest adumbration, still less consciousness, of an infinite being, for the limit of the nature is also the limit of the conscious- The consciousness of the caterpillar, whose life is confined to a particular species of plant, does not extend itself beyond this narrow domain. It does, THE ESSENTIAL NATURE OF MAN. 21 indeed, discriminate between this plant and other plants, but more it knows not. A consciousness so limited, but on account of that very limitation so in- fallible, we do not call consciousness, but instinct. Consciousness, in the strict or proper sense, is iden- tical with consciousness of the infinite ; a limited con- sciousness is no consciousness ; consciousness is essen- tially infinite in its nature.* The consciousness of the infinite is nothing else than the consciousness of the infinity of the consciousness : or, in the conscious- ness of the infinite, the conscious subject has for his object the infinity of his own nature. What, then, is the nature of man, of which he is conscious, or what constitutes the specific distinction, the proper humanity of man ?f Reason, Will, Affection. To a complete man belong the power of thought, the power of will, the power of affection. The power of thought is the light of the intellect, the power of will is energy of character, the power of affection is love. Reason, love, force of will, are perfections — the per- fections of -the human being- — nay, more, they are ab- solute perfections of being. To will, to love, to think, are the highest powers, are the absolute nature of man as man, and the basis of his existence. Man exists to think, to love, to will. Now that which is the end, the ultimate aim, is also the true basis and principle of a being. But what is the end of reason ? Reason. Of love ? Love. Of will ? Freedom of the will. We think for the sake of thinking ; love for the sake of * Objectum intellectus esse iUmiitatum. sive omne verum ac, ut lo- quuntur, omne ens ut ens, ex eo constat, quod ad nullum non genus rerum extenditur, nullumque est, cujus cognoscendi capax non sit, licet ob varia obstacula multa sint, quse re ipsa, non norit. — Gassendi (Opp. Omn. Phys). f The obtuse materialist says : "Man is distinguished from the brute only by consciousness — he is an animal with consciousness superadded ;" not reflecting, that in a being which awakes to consciousness, there takes place a qualitative change, a differentiation of the entire nature. For the rest, our words are by no means intended to depreciate the nature of the lower animals. This is not the place to enter further into that question. 22 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. loving ; will for the sake of willing — i. e. y that we may be free. True existence is thinking, loving, willing existence. That alone is true, perfect, divine, which exists for its own sake. But such is love, such is reason, such is will. The divine trinity in man, above the individual man, is the unity of reason, love, will. Reason, Will, Love, are not powers which man possesses, for he is nothing without them, he is what he is only by them ; they are the constituent elements of his nature, which he neither has nor makes, the animating, determining, governing powers — divine, absolute powers — to which he can oppose no re- sistance.* How can the feeling man resist feeling, the loving one love, the rational one reason? Who has not ex- perienced the overwhelming power of melody ? And what else is the power of melody but the power of feeling ? Music is the language of feeling ; melody is audible feeling — feeling communicating itself. Who has not experienced the power of love, or at least heard of it? Which is the stronger — love or the in- dividual man? Is it man that possesses love, or is it not much rather love that possesses man ? When love impels a man to suffer death even joyfully for the be- loved one, is this death-conquering power his own in- dividual power, or is it not rather the power of love? And who that ever truly thought has not experienced that quiet, subtle power — the power of thought? When thou sinkest into deep reflection, forgetting thy- self and what is around thee, dost thou govern reason, or is it not reason which governs and absorbs thee? Scientific enthusiasm — is it not the most glorious triumph of intellect over thee ? The desire of know- ledge — is it not a simply irresistible, and all-conquer- ing power? And when thou suppressest a passion, renouncest a habit, in short, achievest a victory over thyself, is this victorious power thy own personal * 'Toute opinion c^t assez forte pour sc fuirc exposer au prix de la vie." — Montaigne. THE ESSENTIAL-NATURE OF MAN. 23 power, or is it not rather the energy of will, the force of morality, which seizes the mastery of thee, and fills thee with indignation against thyself and thy indi- vidual weaknesses ? Man is nothing without an object. The great models of humanity, such men as reveal to us what man is capable of, have attested the truth of this proposition by their lives. They had only one dominant passion — the realization of the aim which was the essential object of their activity. But the object to which a subject essentially, necessarily relates, is nothing else than this subject's own, but objective, nature. If it be an object common to several individuals of the same species, but under various conditions, it is still, at least as to the form under which it presents itself to each of them according to their respective modifications, their own, but objective, nature. Thus the Sun is the common object of the planets, but it is an object to Mercury, to Venus, to Saturn, to Uranus, under other conditions than to the Earth. Each planet has its own sun. The Sun which lights and warms Uranus has no physical (only an astro- nomical, scientific) existence for the earth ; and not only does the Sun appear different, but it really is another sun on Uranus than on the Earth. The re- lation of the Sun to the Earth is therefore at the same time a relation of the Earth to itself, or to its own nature, for the measure of the size and of the intensity of light which the Sun possesses as the object of the Earth, is the measure of the distance, which determines the peculiar nature of the Earth. Hence each planet has in its sun the mirror of its own nature. In the object which he contemplates, therefore, man becomes acquainted with himself; consciousness of the objective is the self-consciousness of man. We know the man by the object, by his conception of what is external to himself; in it his nature becomes evident ; this object is his manifested nature, his true objective ego. And this is true not merely of spiritual, 24 THE ESSENCE OF "CHKISTIANITY. but also of sensuous objects. Even the objects which are the most remote from man, because they are objects to him, and to the extent to which they are so, are revelations of human nature. Even the moon, the sun, the stars, call to man TvZ6<, aea-otov. That he sees them, and so sees them, is an evidence of his own nature. The animal is sensible only of the beam which imme- diately effects life ; while man perceives the ray, to him physically indifferent, of the remotest star. Man alone has purely intellectual, disinterested joys and passions ; the eye of man alone keeps theoretic festi- vals. The eye which looks into the starry heavens, which gazes at that light, alike useless and harmless, having nothing in common with the earth and its ne- cessities — this eye sees in that light its own nature, its own origin. The eye is heavenly in its nature. Hence man elevates himself above the earth only with the eye ; hence theory begins with the contemplation of the heavens. The first philosophers were astro- nomers. It is the heavens that admonish man of his destination, and remind him that he is destined not merely to action, but also to contemplation. The absolute to man is his own nature. The power of the object over him is therefore the power of his own nature. Thus the power of the object of feeling is the power of feeling itself; the power of the object of the intellect is the power of the intellect itself; the power of the object of the will is the power of the will itself. The man who is affected by musical sounds, is governed by feeling ; by the feeling, that is, which finds its corresponding element in musical sounds. But it is not melody as such, it is only melody preg- nant with meaning and emotion, which has power over feeling. Feeling is only acted on by that which con- veys feeling, L e. t by itself, its own nature. Thus also the will ; thus, and infinitely more, the intellect. What- ever kind of object, therefore, we are at any time con- scious of, we are always at the same time conscious of our own nature ; we can affirm nothing without affirm- THE ESSENTIAL NATURE OF MAN. 25 ing ourselves. And since to will, to feel, to think, are perfections, essences, realities, it is impossible that in- tellect, feeling, and will should feel or perceive them- selves as limited, finite powers, i. e., as worthless, as nothing. For finiteness and nothingness are identical ; finiteness is only a euphemism for nothingness. Finite- ness is the metaphysical, the theoretical- — nothingness the pathological, practical expression. What is finite to the understanding is nothing to the heart. But it is impossible that we should be conscious of will, feel- ing, and intellect, as finite powers, because every per- fect existence, every original power and essence, is the immediate verification and affirmation of itself. It is impossible to love, will, or think, without perceiving these activities to be perfections — impossible to feel that one is a loving, willing, thinking being, without experiencing an infinite joy therein. Consciousness consists in a being becoming objective to itself ; hence it is nothing apart, nothing distinct from the being which is conscious of itself. How could it otherwise become conscious of itself? It is therefore impossible to be conscious of a perfection as an imperfection, im- possible to feel feeling limited, to think thought limited. Consciousness is self-verification, self-affirmation, self-love, joy in one's own perfection. Consciousness is the characteristic mark of a perfect nature ; it exists only in a self-sufficing, complete being. Even human vanity attests this truth. A man looks in the glass; he has complacency in his appearance. This compla- cency is a necessary, involuntary consequence of the completeness, the beauty of his form. A beautiful form is satisfied in itself ; it has necessarily joy in it- self — in self-contemplation. This complacency becomes vanity only when a man piques himself on his form as being his individual form, not when he admires it as a specimen of human beauty in general. It is fitting that he should admire it thus ; he can conceive no form more beautiful, more sublime than the human.* Assu- * Homini homine nihil pulchrius. (Cic. de Nat. D. 1. i.) And this is B 26 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. redly every being loves itself, its existence — and fitly so. To exist is a good. Quidquid essentia dignum est, scientia dignum est. Everything that exists has value, is a being of distinction — at least this is true of the species : hence it asserts, maintains itself. But the highest form of self-assertion, the form which is itself a superiority, a perfection, a bliss, a good, is con- sciousness. Every limitation of the reason, or in general of the nature of man, rests on a delusion, an error. It is true that the human being, as an individual, can and must — herein consists his distinction from the brute — feel and recognise himself to be limited ; but he can become conscious of his limits, his finiteness, only be- cause the perfection, the infinitude of his species is perceived by him, whether as an object of feeling, of conscience, or of the thinking consciousness. If he makes his own limitations the limitations of the species, this arises from the mistake that he identifies himself immediately with the species — a mistake which is intimately connected with the individual's love of ease, sloth, vanity, and egotism. For a limitation which I know to be merely mine humiliates, shames, and per- turbs me. Hence to free myself* from this feeling of shame, from this state of dissatisfaction, I convert the limits of my individuality into the limits of human na- ture in general. What is incomprehensible to me is incomprehensible to others ; why should I trouble my- self further? it is no fault of mine; my understanding is not to blame, but the understanding of the nice. But it is a ludicrous and even culpable error to define as finite and limited what constitutes the essence of man, the nature of his species, which is the absolute nature of the individual. Every being is sufficient to itself. No being can deny itself, /. e. t its own nature ; no be- no sign of limitation, for he regards other being! as beautiful besi Lea him- self: he delights id the beautiful forma of animals, ha the beautiful forms of plants, in the beauty of nature in general But only the absolute, the perfect form, can delight without envy in the forms of other beinge. THE ESSENTIAL NATURE OF MAN. 27 ing is a limited one to itself. Rather, every being is in and by itself infinite — has its God, its highest con- ceivable being, in itself. Every limit of a being is cognisable only by another being out of and above him. The life of the ephemera is extraordinarily short in comparison with that of longer lived crea- tures ; but nevertheless, for the ephemera this short life is as long as a life of years to others. The leaf on which the caterpillar lives is for it a world, an infinite space. That which makes a being what it is — is its talent, its power, its wealth, its adornment. How can it possibly hold its existence non-existence, its wealth poverty, its talent incapacity ? If the plants had eyes, taste and judgment, each plant would declare its own flower the most beautiful ; for its comprehension, its taste, would reach no farther than its natural power of production. What the productive power of its nature has brought forth as the highest, that must also its taste, its judg- ment, recognise and affirm as the highest. What the nature affirms, the understanding, the taste, the judg- ment, cannot deny ; otherwise the understanding, the judgment, would no longer be the understanding and judgment of this particular being, but of some other. The measure of the nature is also the measure of the understanding. If the nature is limited, so also is the feeling, so also is the understanding. But to a limited being its limited understanding is not felt to be a limitation ; on the contrary, it is perfectly happy and contented with this understanding ; it regards it, praises and values it, as a glorious, divine power ; and the limited understanding, on its part, values the limit- ed nature whose understanding it is. Each is exactly adapted to the other ; how should they be at issue with each other? A being's understanding is its sphere of vision. As far as thou seest, so far extends thy nature ; and conversely. The eye of the brute reaches no farther than its needs, and its nature no farther than its needs. And so far as thy nature reaches, b2 28 * THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. so far reaches thy unlimited self-consciousness, so far art thou God. The discrepancy between the under- standing and the nature, between the power of con- ception and the power of production in the human con- sciousness, on the one hand is merely individual signi- ficance and has not a universal application ; and, on the other hand, it is only apparent. He who having written a bad poem knows it to be bad, is in his intel- ligence, and therefore in his nature, not so limited as he who, having written a bad poem, admires it and thinks it good. It follows, that if thou thinkest the infinite, thou per- ceivest and affirmest the infinitude of the power of thought ; if thou feelest the infinite, thou feelest and affirmest the infinitude of the power to feeling. The object of the intellect is intellect objective to itself; the object of feeling is feeling objective to itself. If thou hast no sensibility, no feeling for music, thou perceivest in the finest music nothing more than in the wind that whistles by thy ear, or than in the brook which rushes past thy feet. What then is it which acts on thee when thou art affected by melody ? What does thou per- ceive in it ? What else than the voice of thy own heart ? Feeling speaks only to feeling ; feeling is comprehen- sible only by feeling, that is, by itself — for this reason, that the object of feeling is nothing else than feeling. Music is a monologue of emotion. But the dialogue of philosophy also is in truth only a monologue of the in- tellect ; thought speaks only to thought. The splen- dours of the crystal charm the sense ; but the intel- lect is interested only in the laws of crystallization. The intellectual only is the object of the intellect. All therefore which, in the point of view of meta- physical, transcendental speculation and religion, lias the significance only of the secondary, the subjective, the medium, the organ, — has in truth the significance * " The understanding La percipient only of understanding, and ■what proeeedfl theaoe." — Reimaama (Wahrh. far NaturL Religion, iv. Abth, §8.) THE ESSENTIAL NATURE OF MAN. 29 of the primary, of the essence, of the object itself. If, for example, feeling is the essential organ of religion, the nature of God is nothing else than an exprdfeion of the nature of feeling. The true but latent sense of the phrase, " Feeling is the organ of the divine," is, feeling is the noblest, the most excellent, i. e., the divine, in man. How couldst thou perceive the divine by feeling, if feeling were not itself divine in its na- ture? The divine assuredly is known only by means of the divine — God is known only by himself. The divine nature which is discerned by feeling, is in truth nothing else than feeling enraptured, in ecstasy with itself — feeling intoxicated with joy, blissful in its own plenitude. It is already clear from this that where feeling is held to be the organ of the infinite, the subjective essence of religion, — the external data of religion lose their objective value. And thus, since feeling has been held the cardinal principle in religion, the doc- trines of Christianity, formerly so sacred, have lost their importance. If from this point of view some value is still conceded to Christian ideas, it is a value springing entirely from the relation they bear to feel- ing ; if another object would exicte the same emotions, it would be just as welcome. But the object of re- ligious feeling is become a matter of indifference, only because when once feeling has been pronounced to be the subjective essence of religion, it in fact is also the objective essence of religion, though it may not be de- clared, at least directly, to be such. I say directly ; for indirectly this is certainly admitted, when it is declared that feeling, as such, is religious, and thus the distinction between specifically religious and ir- religious, or at least non-religious, feelings, is abo- lished, — a necessary consequence of the point of view in which feeling only is regarded as the organ of the divine. For on what other ground than that of its essence, its nature, dost thou hold feeling to be the organ of the infinite, the divine being ? And is not 30 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. the nature of feeling in general, also tile nature of every special feeling, be its object what it may ? What, theri^miakes this feeling religious? A given object? Not at all ; for this object is itself a religious one only when it is not an object of the cold understanding or memory, but of feeling. What then ? The nature of feeling — a nature of which every special feeling, with- out distinction of objects, partakes. Thus, feeling is pronounced to be religious, simply because it is feeling; the ground of its religiousness is its own nature — lies in itself. But is not feeling thereby declared to be it- self the absolute, the divine ? If feeling in itself is good, religious, i. e., holv, divine, has not feeling its God in itself? But if, notwithstanding, thou wilt posit an object of feeling, but at the same time seekest to express thy feeling truly, without introducing by thy reflection any foreign element, what remains to thee but to dis- tinguish between thy individual feeling and the general nature of feeling ; — to separate the universal in feeling from the disturbing, adulterating influences with which feeling is bound up in thee, under thy individual con- ditions ? Hence what thou canst alone contemplate, declare to be the infinite, and define as its essence, is merely the nature of feeling. Thou hast thus no other definition of God than this ; God is pure, unlimited, free Feeling. Every other God, whom thou supposest, is a God thrust upon thy feeling from without. Feeling is atheistic in the sense of the orthodox belief, which attaches religion to an external object ; it denies an objective God — it is itself God. In this point of view, only the negation of feeling is the negation of God. Thou art simply too cowardly or too narrow to con- fess in words what thy feeling tacitly affirms. Fettered by outward considerations, Mill in bondage to vulgar empiricism, incapable of comprehending the spiritual grandeur of feeling, thou arl terrified before the reli- gious atheism of thy heart. By this fear thou de- stroyest the unity of thy feeling with itself, in iinagin- THE ESSENTIAL NATURE OF MAN. 31 ing to thyself an objective being distinct from thy feeling, and thus necessarily sinking back into the old questions and doubts — is there a God or not? — questions and doubts which vanish, nay, are impos- sible, where feeling is defined as the essence of re- ligion. Feeling is thy own inward power, but at the same time a power distinct from thee, and independent of thee ; it is in thee, above thee : it is itself that which constitutes the objective in thee — thy own being which impresses thee as another being ; in short, thy God. How wilt thou then distinguish from this objective being within thee another objective being ? how wilt thou get beyond thy feeling ? But feeling has here been adduced only as an example. It is the same with every other power, faculty, poten- tiality, reality, activity — the name is indifferent — which is defined as the essential organ of any object. Whatever is a subjective expression of a nature is simultaneously also its objective expression. Man cannot get beyond his true nature. He may indeed by means of the imagination conceive individuals of another so-called higher kind, but he can never get loose from his species, his nature ; the conditions of being, the positive final predicates which he gives to these other individuals, are always determinations or qualities drawn from his own nature — qualities in which he in truth only images and projects himself. There may certainly be thinking beings besides men on the other planets of our solar system. But by the supposition of such beings we do not change our stand- ing point — we extend our conceptions quantitatively r , not qualitatively. For as surely as on the other planets there are the same laws of motion, so surely are there the same laws of perception and thought as here. In fact, we people the other planets, not that we may place there different beings from ourselves, but more beings of our own or of a similar nature. # * Verisimile est, non minus quam geometrise, etiam musicas oblecta- tionem ad plures quam ad nos pertinere. Positis enim aliis tends atque 32 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. § 2. The Essence of Religion considered generally. What we have hitherto been maintaining generally, even with regard to sensational impressions, of the relation between subject and object, applies especially to the relation between the subject and the religious object. In the perceptions of the senses consciousness of the object is distinguishable from consciousness of self; but in religion, consciousness of the object and self- consciousness coincide. The object of the senses is out of man, the religious object is within him, and therefore as little forsakes him as his self-consciousness or his conscience ; it is the intimate, the closest object. u God, ' says Augustine, for example, " is nearer, more related to us, and therefore more easily known by us, than sensible, corporeal things."* The object of the senses is in itself indifferent — independent of the dis- position or of the judgment ; but the object of religion is a selected object ; the most excellent, the first, the supreme being ; it essentially pre-supposes a critical judgment, a discrimination between the divine and the non-divine, between that which is worthy of adoration and that which is not worthy. f And here may be applied, without any limitation, the proposition : the object of any subject is nothing else than the subject's own nature taken objectively. Such as are a man's thoughts and dispositions, such is his God; so much worth as a man has, so much and no more has his God. aiiimalibus ratione et auditu pollentibu.s, cur tantum his oostris contfgis- [ua sola ex Bono percipi p« t? — Christ Hugemus. . 1. i.) * Dc Genesi ad litteram, 1. v. c. 16, f Unusquisquc vestrum non cogitat, prius se debero Deum 7ivsse, quam colere. — M. Minucii Felicis Octavianus, c. 2\. THE ESSENCE OF EELIGION. 33 Consciousness of God is self-consciousness, knowledge of God is self-knowledge. By his God thou knowest the man, and by the man his God ; the two are iden- tical. Whatever is God to a man, that is his heart and soul ; and conversely, God is the manifested in- ward nature, the expressed self of a man, — religion the solemn unveiling of a man's hidden treasures the revelation of his intimate thoughts, the open confession of his love-secrets. But when religion — consciousness of God — is desig- nated as the self-consciousness of man, this is not to be understood as affirming that the religious man is di- rectly aware of this identity ; for, on the contrary, ignorance of it is fundamental to the peculiar nature of religion. To preclude this misconception, it is better to say. religion is man's earliest and also indirect form of self-knowledge. Hence, religion everywhere pre- cedes philosophy, as in the history of the race, so also in that of the individual. Man first of all sees his nature as if out of himself, before he finds it in himself. His own nature is in the first instance contemplated by him as that of another being. Religion is the child- like condition of humanity ; but the child sees his na- ture — man- — out of himself ; in childhood a man is an object to himself, under the form of another man. Hence the historical progress of religion consists in this : that what by an earlier religion was regarded as objective, is now recognised as subjective ; that is, what was formerly contemplated and worshipped as God is now perceived to be something human. What was at first religion becomes at a later period idolatry; man is seen to have adored his own nature. Man has given objectivity to himself, but has not recognised the object as his own nature : a later religion takes this forward step ; every advance in religion is there- fore a deeper self-knowledge. But every particular religion, while it pronounces its predecessors idola- trous, excepts itself — and necessarily so, otherwise it would no longer be religion — from the fate, the com- b 3 34 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. mon nature of all religions : it imputes only to other religions what is the fault, if fault it be, of religion in general. Because it has a different object, a different tenour, because it has transcended the ideas of pre- ceding religions, it erroneously supposes itself exalted above the necessary eternal laws which constitute the essence of religion — it fancies its object, its ideas, to be superhuman. But the essence of religion, thus hidden from the religious, is evident to the thinker, by whom religion is viewed objectively, which it cannot be by its votaries. And it is our task to show that the antithesis of divine and human is altogether illu- sory, that it is nothing else than the antithesis between the human nature in general, and the human individual: that, consequently, the object and contents of the Christian religion are altogether human. Religion, at least the Chiistian, is the relation of man to himself, or more correctly to his own nature i. e., his subjective nature);* but a relation to it, viewed as a nature apart from his own. The divine being is nothing else than the human being, or, rather the human nature purified, freed from the limits of the individual man, made — objective — i. e., contemplated and revered as another, a distinct being. All the attri- butes of the divine nature are, therefore, attributes of the human nature. \ In relation to the attributes, the predicates, of the Divine Being, this is admitted without hesitation, but by no means in relation to the subject of these predi- cates. The negation of the subject is held to be irre- * The meaning of this parenthetic limitation will he clear in the sequel. f Lea perfections de Dion Bent cellea de nos ames, mais il les poaaede sans homes — il y a en nova qnelque pttiaaanoe, qnelqne connaissance, quelqne bonte, maia ellea Bont toutee entiera en Dieu. — Leibnitz, (Theod. Preface.) Nihil in anima ease putemua eximium, qnod oonetiani divinsa naturae proprinm Bit — Quidquid a Deo aliennm extra definitionem anima*. — S, Gregoriua N o, nt videtnr, diaciplinanim omninm pnl- cherrima et maxima Be [psora oosse : si quia enini sc ip.snm norit, Deum oognoecet — Clemnfl Alex. (Pa&d. 1. iii. c. 1.) THE ESSENCE OF RELIGION. 35 ligion, nay, atheism; though not so the negation of the predicates. But that which has no predicates or qualities, has no effect upon me; that which has no effect upon me, has no existence for me. To deny all the qualities of a being is equivalent to denying the being himself. A being without qualities is one which cannot become an object to the mind ; and such a being is virtually non-existent. Where man deprives God of all qualities, God is no longer anything more to him than a negative being. To the truly religious man, God is not a being without qualities, because to him he is a positive, real being. The theory that God cannot be defined, and consequently cannot be known by man, is therefore the offspring of recent times, a product of modern unbelief. As reason is and can be pronounced finite only where man regards sensual enjoyment, or religious emotion, or aesthetic contemplation, or moral senti- ment, as the absolute, the true ; so the proposition that God is unknowable or undefinable can only be enun- ciated and become fixed as a dogma, where this object has no longer any interest for the intellect ; where the real, the positive, alone has any hold on man, where the real alone has for him the significance of the essen- tial, of the absolute, divine object, but where at the same time, in contradiction with this purely worldly tendency, there yet exist some old remains of re- ligiousness. On the ground that God is unknowable, man excuses himself to what is yet remaining of his religious conscience for his forgetfulness of God, his absorption in the world : he denies God practically by his conduct,- — the world has possession of all his thoughts and inclinations, — but he does not deny him theoretically, he does not attack his existence ; he lets that rest. But this existence does not affect or in- commode him ; it is a merely negative existence, an existence without existence, a self-contradictory exis- tence, — a state of being, which, as to its effects, is not distinguishable from non-being. The denial of de- 36 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. terminate, positive predicates concerning the divine nature, is nothing else than a denial of religion, with, however, an appearance of religion in its favour, so that it is not recognised as a denial ; it is simply a subtle, disguised atheism. The alleged religious horror of limiting God by positive predicates, is only the irreligious wish to know nothing more of God, to banish God from the mind. Pread of limitation is dread of existence. All real existence, i. e., all existence which is truly such, is qualitative, determinate existence. He who earnestly believes in the Divine existence, is not shocked at the attributing even of gross sensuous qual- ities to God. He who dreads an existence that may give offence, who shrinks from the grossness of a posi- tive predicate, may as well renounce existence alto- gether. A God who is injured by determinate quali- ties has not the courage and the strength to exist. Qualities are the fire, the vital breath, the oxygen, the salt of existence. An existence in general, an existence without qualities, is an insipidity, an absurdity. But there can be no more in God, than is supplied by re- ligion. Only where man loses his taste for religion, and thus religion itself becomes insipid, does the exis- tence of God become an insipid existence — an existence without qualities. There is, however, a still milder way of denying the Divine predicates than the direct one just described. It is admitted that the predicates of the divine nature are finite, and, more particularly, human qualities, but their rejection is rejected ; they are even taken under protection, because it is necessary to man to have a definite conception of God, and since lie is man. he can form no other than a human conception of him. In relation to God. it is said, these predicates are certainly without any objective validity ; but to me, if he is to exigt for me. he cannot appear otherwise than as he does appear to inc. namely, as a being with attributes analogous to the human. But this flistiijction between what Grbd is in himself, and What he is for me, destroys THE ESSENCE OF RELIGION. 37 the peace of religion, and is besides in itself an un- founded and untenable distinction. I cannot know whether God is something else in himself or for him- self, than he is for me ; what he is to me, is to me all that he is. For me, there lies in these predicates un- der which he exists for me, what he is in himself, his very nature ; he is for me what he can alone ever be for me. The religious man finds perfect satisfaction in that which God is in relation to himself ; of any other relation he knows nothing, for God is to him what he can alone be to man. In the distinction above stated, man takes a point of view above himself, i. e., above his nature, the absolute measure of his being ; but this transcendentalism is only an illusion ; for I can make the distinction between the object as it is in itself, and the object as it is for me, only where an object can really appear otherwise to me, not where it appears to me such as the absolute measure of my nature determines it to appear— such as it must appear to me. It is true that I may have a merely subjective conception, i. c, one which does not arise out of the general constitution of my species ; but if my conception is determined by the constitution of my species, the distinction between what an object is in itself, and what it is for me ceases ; for this conception is itself an abso- lute one. The measure of the species is the absolute measure, law, and criterion of man. And, indeed, religion has the conviction that its conceptions, its predicates of God, are such as every man ought to have, and must have, if he would have the true ones — that they are the conceptions necessary to human nature ; nay, further, that they are objectively true, represent- ing God as he is. To every religion the gods of other religions are only notions concerning God, but its own conception of God is to it God himself, the true God — God such as he is in himself. Religion is satisfied only with a complete Deity, a God without reservation ; it -will not have a mere phantasm of God; it demands God 38 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. himself. Religion gives up its own existence when it gives up the nature of God ; it is no longer a truth, when it renounces the possession of the true God. Scepticism is the arch-enemy of religion ; but the dis- tinction between object and conception — between God as he is in himself, and God as he is for me, is a scep- tical distinction, and therefore an irreligious one. That which is to man the self-existent, the highest being, to which he can conceive nothing higher — that is to him the Divine being. How then should he in- quire concerning this being, what He is in himself? If God were an object to the bird, he would be a winged being : the bird knows nothing higher, nothing more blissful, than the winged condition. How ludicrous would it be if this bird pronounced : to me God appears as a bird, but what he is in himself I know not. To the bird the highest nature is the bird-nature ; take from him the conception of this, and you take from him the conception of the highest being. How, then, could he ask whether God in himself were winged? To ask whether God is in himself what he is for me, is to ask whether God is God, is to lift oneself above one's God, to rise up against him. Wherever, therefore, this idea, that the religious predicates are only anthropomorphisms, has taken possession of a man, there has doubt, has unbelief ob- tained the mastery of faith. And it is only the incon- sequence of faint-heartedness and intellectual imbeci- lity which does not proceed from this idea to the formal negation of the predicates, and from thence to the nc- gation of the subject to which they relate. If thou doubtest the objective truth of the predicates, thou must also doubt the objective truth of the subject whose predicates they are. If thy predicates are anthro- pomorphisms, the subject of them is an anthropomor- phism too. If love, goodness, personality. &C., are human attributes, BO also is the subject which thou pre-supposest, the existdhce of God, the belief that there is a God, an anthropomorphism — a pre-supposi- THE ESSENCE OP RELIGION. 39 tion purely human. Whence knowest thou that the belief in a God at all is not a limitation of man's mode of conception? Higher beings — and thou supposest such — are perhaps so blest in themselves, so at unity with themselves, that they are not hung in suspense between themselves and a yet higher being. To know God and not oneself to be God, to know blessedness, and not oneself to enjoy it, is a state of disunity, of unhappiness. Higher beings know nothing of this unhappiness ; they have no conception of that which they are not. Thou believest in love as a divine attribute because thou thyself lovest ; thou believest that God is a wise, benevolent being, because thou knowcst nothing better in thyself than benevolence and wisdom ; and thou believest that God exists, that therefore he is a subject — whatever exists is a subject, whether it be defined as substance, person, essence, or otherwise — because thou thyself existest, art thyself a subject. Thou knowest no higher human good, than to love, than to be good and wise ; and even so thou knowest no higher happi- ness than to exist, to be a subject ; for the conscious- ness of all reality, of all bliss, is for thee bound up in the consciousness of being a subject, of existing. God is an existence, a subject to thee, for the same reason that he is to thee a wise, a blessed, a personal being. "The distinction between the divine predicates and the divine subject is only this, that to thee the subject, the existence, does not appear an anthropomorphism, be- cause the conception of it is necessarily involved in thy own existence as a subject, whereas the predicates do appear anthropomorphisms, because their necessity - — the necessity that God should be conscious, wise, good, &c. — is not an immediate necessity, identical with the being of man, but is evolved by his self-con- sciousness, by the activity of his thought. I am a subject, I exist, whether I be wise or unwise, good or bad. To exist is to man the first datum ; it constitutes the very idea of the subject ; it is presupposed by the predicates. 40 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. Hence, man relinquishes the predicates, but the exis- tence of God is to him a settled, irrefragable, abso- lutely certain, objective truth. But. nevertheless, this distinction is merely an apparent one. The necessity of the subject lies only in the necessity of the predicate. Thou art a subject only in so far as thou art a human subject : the certainty and reality of thy existence lie only in the certainty and reality of thy human attri- butes. What the subject is. lies only in the predicate : the predicate is the truth of the subject— the subject only the personified, existing predicate, the predicate conceived as existing. Subject and predicate are dis- tinguished only as existence and essence. The nega- tion of the predicates is therefore the negation of the subject. What remains of the human subject when abstracted from the human attributes ? Even in the language of common life the divine predicates — Pro- vidence. Omniscience. Omnipotence— are put for the divine subject. The certainty of the existence of God. of which it has been said that it is as certain, nay. more certain to man than his own existence, depends only on the certainty of the qualities of God — it is in itself no immediate certainty. To the Christian the existence of the Christian God only is a certainty : to the heathen that of the heathen God only. The heathen did not doubt the existence of Jupiter, because he took no offence at the nature of Jupiter, because he could con- ceive of God under no other qualities, because to him these qualities were a certainty, a divine reality. The reality of the predicate is the sole guarantee of exis- tence. Whatever man conceives to be true, he immediately conceives to be real i that is. to have an objective existence), because, originally, only the real is true to him — true in opposition to what is merely conceived,, dreamed, imagined. The idea of being, of existence, is the original idea of truth ; or. originally, man makes truth dependent on existence, subsequently, existence THE ESSENCE OF RELIGION. 41 dependent on truth. Now God is the nature of man regarded as absolute truth, — the truth of man ; but God, or, what is the same thing, religion, is as various as are the conditions under which man conceives this his nature, regards it as the highest being. These conditions, then, under which man conceives God, are to him the truth, and for that reason they are also the highest existence, or rather they are existence itself; for only the emphatic, the highest existence, is exist- ence, and deserves this name. Therefore, God is an existent, real being, on the very same ground that he is a particular, definite being ; for the qualities of God are nothing else than the essential qualities of man himself, and a particular man is what he is, has his existence, his reality, only in his particular con- ditions. Take away from the Greek the quality of being Greek, and you take away his existence. On this ground, it is true that for a definite positive reli- gion — that is, relatively — the certainty of the exist- ence of God is immediate ; for just as involuntarily, as necessarily, as the Greek was a Greek, so necessarily were his gods Greek beings, so necessarily were they real, existent beings. Religion is that conception of the nature of the world and of man which is essential to, i. e., identical with, a man's nature. But man does not stand above this his necessary conception ; on the contrary, it stands above him; it animates, determines, governs him. The necessity of a proof, of a middle term to unite qualities with existence, the possibility of a doubt, is abolished. Only that which is apart from my own being is capable of being doubted by me. How then can I doubt of God, who is my being? To doubt of God is to doubt of myself. Only when God is thought of abstractly, when his predicates are the result of philosophic abstraction, arises the dis- tinction or separation between subject and predicate, existence and nature — arises the fiction that the exist- ence or the subject is something else than the predi- cate, something immediate, indubitable, in distinction 42 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. from the predicate, which is held to be doubtful. But this is only a fiction. A God who has abstract predi- cates has also an abstract existence. Existence, being, varies with varying qualities. The identity of the subject and predicate is clearly evidenced by the progressive development of religion, which is identical with the progressive development of human culture. So long as man is in a mere state of nature, so long is his god a mere nature-god — a per- sonification of some natural force. Where man inha- bits houses, he also encloses his gods in temples. The temple is only a manifestation of the value which man attaches to beautiful buildings. Temples in honour of religion are in truth temples in honour of architec- ture. With the emerging of man from a state of sa- vagery and wildness to one of culture, with the dis- tinction between what is fitting for man and what is not fitting, arises simultaneously the distinction be- tween that which is fitting and that which is not fitting for God. God is the idea of majesty, of the highest dignity : the religious sentiment is the sentiment of su- preme fitness. The later more cultured artists of Geece were the first to embody in the statues of the gods the ideas of dignity, of spiritual grandeur, of imperturb- able repose and serenity. But why were these quali- ties in their view attributes, predicates of God? Be- cause they were in themselves regarded by the Greeks as divinities. Why did those artists exclude all dis- gusting and low passions? Because they perceived them to be unbecoming, unworthy, unhuman, and con- sequently ungodlike. The Homeric gods cat and drink; — that implies : eating and drinking is a divine plea- sure. Physical strength is an attribute of the Homeric gods : Zeus IS the strongest of the gods. Why? Be- cause physical strength, in and by itself, was regarded as something glorious, divine. To the ancient Ger- mans the highest virtues were those of the warrior; therefore, their supreme god was the god of war, Odin, — war, "the original or oldest law. ;; Not the attri- THE ESSENCE OF RELIGION. 43 bute of the divinity, but the divineness or deity of the attribute, is the first true Divine Being. Thus what theology and philosophy have held- to be God, the Ab- solute, the Infinite, is not God; but that which they have held not to be God, is God : namely, the attribute, the quality, whatever has reality. Hence, he alone is the true atheist to whom the predicates of the Divine Be- ing, — for example, love, wisdom, justice, are nothing ; not he to whom merely the subject of these predicates is nothing. And in no wise is the negation of the subject necessarily also a negation of the predicates considered in themselves. These have an intrinsic, independent reality ; they force their recognition upon man by their very nature ; they are self-evident truths to him ; they prove, they attest themselves. It does not follow that goodness, justice, wisdom, are chimseras, because the existence of God is a chimsera, nor truths because this is a truth. The idea of God is dependent on the idea of justice, of benevolence ; a God w^ho is not benevolent, not just, not wise, is no God ; but the converse does not hold. The fact is not that a quality is divine because God has it, but that God has it because it is in itself divine : because with- out it God would be a defective being. Justice, wis- dom, in general every quality w r hich constitutes the -divinity of God, is determined and* known by itself, independently, but the idea of God is determined by the qualities which have thus been previously judged to be worthy of the divine nature ; only in the case in which I identify God and justice, in which I think of God immediately as the reality of the idea of justice, is the idea of God self-determined. But if God as a subject is the determined, while the quality, the predi- cate is the determining, then in truth the rank of the godhead is due not to the subject, but to the predi- cate. Not until several, and those contradictory, attributes are united in one being, and this being is conceived as personal — the personality being thus brought into 44 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. especial prominence — not until then is the origin of religion lost sight of, is it forgotten that what the ac- tivity of the reflective power has converted into a predicate distinguishable or separable from the subject, was originally the true subject. Thus the Greeks and Romans deified accidents as substances : virtues, states of mind, passions, as independent beings. Man, espe- cially the religious man, is to himself the measure of all things, of all reality. Whatever strongly impresses a man, whatever produces an unsual effect on his mind, if it be only a peculiar, inexplicable sound or note, he personifies as a divine being. Religion embraces all the objects of the world ; everything existing has been an object of religious reverence ; in the nature and consciousness of religion there is nothing else than what lies in the nature of man and in his conscious- ness of himself and of the world. Religion has no material exclusively its own. In Rome even the passions of fear and terror had their temples. The Christians also made mental phenomena into indepen- dent beings, their own feelings into qualities of things, the passions which governed them into powers which governed the world, in short, predicates of their own nature, whether recognized as such or not, into inde- pendent subjective existences. Devils, cobolds, witch- es, ghosts, angels, were sacred truths as long as the religious spirit held undivided sway over mankind. In order to banish from the mind the identity of the divine and human predicates, and the consequent iden- tity of the divine and human nature, recourse is had to the idea that God, as the absolute, real Being, has an infinite fulness of various predicates, of which we here know only a part, and those such as are analogous to our own ; while the rest, by virtue of which God must thus have (juite a different nature from tin 4 human or that which is analogous to the human, we -hall only know in the future — tnal is, after death. But an infi- nite plenitude or multitude of predicates which are really different, so different that the one does not THE ESSENCE OF RELIGION. 45 immediately involve the other, is realized only in an 'infinite plenitude or multitude of different beings or individuals. Thus the human nature presents an infi- nite abundance of different predicates, and for that very reason it presents an infinite abundance of different individuals. Each new man is a new predicate, a new phasis of humanity. As many as are the men, so many are the powers, the properties of humanity. It is true that there are the same elements in every individual, but under such various conditions and modifications that they appear new and peculiar. The mystery of the inexhaustible fulness of the divine predicates is therefore nothing else than the mystery of human nature considered as an infinitely varied, infinitely modifiable, but, consequently, phenomenal being. Only in the realm of the senses, only in space and time, does there exist a being of really infinite qualities or pre- dicates. Where there are really different predicates, there are different times. One man is a distinguished musician, a distinguished author, a distinguished phy- sician ; but he cannot compose music, write books, and perform cures in the same moment of time. Time, and not the Hegelian dialectic, is the medium of uniting opposites, contradictories, in one and the-same subject. But distinguished and detached from the nature of man, and combined with the idea of God, the infinite fulness of various predicates is a conception without reality, a mere phantasy, a conception derived from the sensible world, but without the essential condi- tions, without the truth of sensible existence, a con- ception which stands in direct contradiction with the Divine Being considered as a spiritual, i. e., an ab- stract, simple, single being ; for the predicates of God are precisely of this character, that one involves all the others, because there is no real difference between them. If, therefore, in the present predicates I have not the future, in the present God not the future God, then the future God is not the present, but they are two distinct beings. But this distinction is in contra- 46 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. diction Trith the unity and simplicity of the theologi- cal God.* Why is a given predicate a predicate of God? Because it is divine in its nature ; i. e., because it expresses no limitation, no defect. Why are other predicates applied to Him ? Because, however various in themselves, they agree in this, that they all alike ex- press perfection, unlimitedness. Hence I can conceive innumerable predicates of God, because they must all agree with the abstract idea of the Godhead, and must have in common that which constitutes every single predicate a divine attribute. Thus it is in the system of Spinoza. He speaks of an infinite number of attri- butes of the divine substance, but he specifies none ex- cept Thought and Extension. Why ? because it is a matter of indifference to know' them ; nay, because they are in themselves indifferent, superfluous : for with all these innumerable predicates, I yet always mean to say the same tiling as when I speak of thought and extension. Why is Thought an attribute of sub- stance? Because, according to Spinoza, it is capable of being conceived by itself, because it expresses some- thing indivisible, perfect, infinite. Why Extension or Matter? For the same reason. Thus, substance can have an indefinite number of predicates, because it is not their specific definition, their difference, but their identity, their equivalence, which makes them attri- butes of substance. Or rather, substance has innume- rable predicates only because (how strange !) it lias properly no predicate: that is, no definite, real predi- cate. The indefinite unity which is the product of thought, completes itself by the indefinite multiplicity which is the product of the imagination. Because the predicate is not multum. it is multa. In truth, the positive predicates are Thought and Extension. In * Fof religious faith there is do other distinction between the present and future God than that the former us an object of faith, of conception, of imagination, -while the latter i- to he an object nf immediate, that is, ;i<>n. In this life, and in the next, he is the hut in the one he is incomprehensible, in the other, com- prohenAole, THE ESSENCE OF RELIGION. 47 these two, infinitely more is said than in the nameless innumerable predicates ; for they express something definite, in them I have something. But substance is too indifferent, too apathetic, to be something ; that is, to have qualities and passions; that it may not be something, it is rather nothing. Now, when it is shown that what the subject is, lies entirely in the attributes of the subject; that is, that the predicate is the true subject ; it is also proved that if the divine predicates are attributes of the hu- man nature, the subject of those predicates is also of the human nature. But the divine predicates are partly general, partly personal. The general predicates are the metaphysical, but these serve only as external points of support to religion ; they are not the charac- teristic definitions of religion. It is the personal pre- dicates alone which constitute the essence of religion — in which the Divine Being is the object of religion. Such are, for example, that God is a Person, that he is the moral Law-giver, the Father of mankind, the Holy One, the Just, the Good, the Merciful. It is however at once clear, or it will at least be clear in the sequel, with regard to these and other definitions, that, especially as applied to a personality, they are purely human definitions, and that consequently man in religion — in his relation to God — is in relation to his own nature ; for to the religious sentiment these predicates are not mere conceptions, mere images, which man forms of God, to be distinguished from that which God is in himself, but truths, facts, realities. Religion knows nothing of anthropomorphisms ; to it they are not anthropomorphisms. It is the very essence of religion, that to it these definitions- express the na- ture of God. They are pronounced to be images only by the understanding, which reflects on religion, and which while defending them yet before its own tri- bunal denies them. But to the religious sentiment God is a real Father, real Love and Mercy ; for to it he is a real, living, personal being, and therefore his 48 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. attributes are also living and personal. Nay, the de- finitions which are the most sufficing to the religious sentiment, are precisely those which give the most offence to the understanding, and which in the process of reflection on religion it denies. Religion is essen- tially emotion ; hence, objectively also, emotion is to it necessarily of a divine nature. Even anger appears to it an emotion not unworthy of God, provided only there be a religious motive at the foundation of this anger. But here it is also essential to observe, and this phenomenon is an extremely remarkable one, character- ising the very core of religion, that in proportion as the divine subject is in reality human, the greater is the apparent difference between God and man ; that is, the more, by reflection on religion, by theology, is the identity of the divine and human denied, and the human, considered as such, is depreciated.* The rea- son of this is, that as what is positive in the conception of the divine being can only be human, the conception of man, as an object of consciousness can only be negative. To enrich God, man must become poor ; that God may be all, man must be nothing. But he desires to be nothing in himself, because what he takes from himself is not lost to him, since it is preserved in God. Man has his being in God; why then should he have it in himself? Where is the necessity of po- siting the same thing twice, of having it twice? What man withdraws from himself, what he renounces in himself, he only enjoys in an incomparably higher and fuller measure in God. The monks made a vow of chastity to God; they mortified the sexual passion in themselves, but thcre- * Inter creatorcm <-t preaturam aon potest tanta aimilitudo notari, quin inter e il diasimilitudo notanja. — Later. Cone. can. 2. (Snrama Omn. I anza, Antw. 15&9. p. 326.) The last distinction :: man ami God, between the Unite and infinite nature, to which •ilative imagination soars, i;> the distinction het»veen thing and Nothing, Ijh and Non Ens; for only in Nothing is all community with other beings abolished. THE ESSENCE OF RELIGION. 49 fore they had in Heaven, in the Virgin Mary, the image of woman — an image of love. They could the more easily dispense with real woman, in proportion as an ideal woman was an object of love to them. The greater the importance they attached to the denial of sensuality, the greater the importance of the Heavenly Virgin for them: she was to them in the place of Christ, in the stead of God. The more the sensual tendencies are renounced, the more sensual is the God to whom they are sacrificed. For whatever is made an offering to God has an especial value attached to it ; in it God is supposed to have especial pleasure. That which is the highest in the estimation of man, is naturally the highest in the estimation of his God — what pleases man, pleases God also. The Hebrews did not offer to Jehovah unclean, ill-conditioned ani- mals ; on the contrary, those which they most highly prized, which they themselves ate, were also the food of God (cibus Dei, Levit. iii. 2.) Wherever, therefore, the denial of the sensual delights is made a special offering, a sacrifice well-pleasing to God, there the highest value is attached to the senses, and the sensua- lity which has been renounced is unconsciously restor- ed, in the fact that God takes the place of the ma- terial delights which have been renounced. The nun weds herself to God ; she has a heavenly bridegroom, the monk a heavenly bride. But the heavenly virgin is only a sensible presentation of a general truth, having relation to the essence of religion. Man denies as to himself only what he attributes to God. Eeligion abstracts from man, from the world ; but it can only abstract from the limitations, from the phenomena, in short, from the negative, not from the essence, the po- sitive, of the world and humanity : hence, in the very abstraction and negation it must recover that from which it abstracts, or believes itself to abstract. And thus, in reality, whatever religion consciously denies — always supposing that what is denied by it is some- thing essential, true, and consequently incapable of c 50 THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIANITY. being ultimately denied — it unconsciously restores in God. Thus, in religion man denies his reason ; of him- self he knows nothing of -God, his thoughts are only worldly, earthly ; he can only believe what God re- veals to him. But on this account the thoughts of God are human, earthly thoughts : like man, He has plans in his mind, he accommodates himself to circum- stances and grades of intelligence, like a tutor with his pupils ; he calculates closely the effect of his gifts and revelations ; he observes man in all his doings ; he knows all things, even the most earthly, the com- monest, the most trivial. In brief, man in relation to God denies his own knowledge, his own thoughts, that he may place them in God. Man gives up his personality ; but in return, God, the Almighty, infinite, unlimited being, is a person ; he denies human dignity, the human ego ; but in return God is to him a selfish, egotistical being, who in all things seeks only Himself, his own honour, his own ends ; he represents God as simply seeking the satisfaction of his own selfishness, while yet He frowns on that of every other being; his God is the very luxury of egotism.* Religion further denies goodness as a quality of human nature; man is wicked, corrupt, incapable of good ; but on the other hand, God is only good — the Good Being. Man's na- ture demands as an object of goodness, personified as God ; but is it not hereby declared that goodness is an essential tendency of man ? If my heart is wicked, my understanding perverted, how can I perceive and feel the holy to be holy, the good to be good? Could I perceive the beauty of a {hie picture, if my mind were aesthetically an absolute piece of perversion ? Though I may not be a painter, though 1 may not have the power of producing what is beautiful myself, 1 must yet have aesthetic feeling, esthetic comprehension, since * Gloriam mam plui amal Den- quam omnes cieatoxas. "God can only love himself can only think of himself, can only work tor himself. In creating man, God seeks hi- 0W9 ends, his own iilory." &0. — Vi