If; 
 
 I 
 
Class. 
 Book. 
 
 
 L^ 
 

 THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT IN PLATO 
 
 AND THE . 
 
 PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 
 
\ 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN ELEMENT U PLATO 
 
 PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY, 
 
 UNFOLDED AND SET FORTH BY 
 
 DE. C. ACOBMANN, 
 
 ARCHDEACON AT JENA, 
 
 L 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY 
 SAMUEL RALPH ASBURY, B.A. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTORY NOTE BY 
 WILLIAM G T. SHEDD, D.D. 
 
 BBOAVN PBOFESSOB IN ANDOVEB THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 EDINBURGH: 
 T. & T. CLARK, 38, GEORGE STREET. 
 
 LONDON : HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND CO. DUBLIN : JOHN ROBERTSON. 
 
 MDCCCLXI. 
 

 MURRAY AND GIBB, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH. 
 
TRANSLATOR'S NOTE. 
 
 The translator deems it right to supply what many Christian 
 readers will probably regard as a deficiency in the representa- 
 tion given in the treatise of Ackermann, concerning the Chris- 
 tian element in the writings of Plato. It has respect to that 
 part of the representation which bears on the doctrine of the 
 atonement, and which the author exhibits as 'the summit of 
 the Platonic, as of the Christian wisdom and knowledge ' 
 (p. 249). But in this he seems to identify atonement with re- 
 demption, and to make no account of the substitutionary cha- 
 racter of the sufferings of Christ, or of the atonement, ordi- 
 narily and strictly so called. The following passage from the 
 Lectures of the late Archer Butler presents, in this respect, the 
 proper complement to the representation of Ackermann : c There 
 runs through all the views of Plato a want of any distinct ap- 
 prehension of the claims of Divine justice in consequence of 
 human sin. Even in his strongest references to punishment, it 
 is still represented mainly, if not entirely, under the notion of a 
 purificatory transition, a severe but beneficial fcdOapais. This 
 arises partly from his conception of the Divine character, partly 
 from his theory of the human soul itself. From the former, 
 inasmuch as he considers the attribute of indignant wrath, or 
 its results, inapplicable to Deity ; — from the latter, because in 
 considering the soul essentially in its higher elements divine, he 
 could only look upon the misfortunes of its bodily connection as 
 incidental pollutions which might delay, but could not ulti- 
 mately defeat, its inalienable rights. He must be a very un- 
 
 1 
 
 V 
 
 (1 
 
2 TRANSLATOR'S NOTE. 
 
 candid critic who can censure Plato severely for these miscon- 
 ceptions ; but he would be a very imperfect expositor who 
 would not mention them as such. There is probably no single 
 point in the moral relations of the creation, for which we are so 
 entirely indebted to revelation, as this of the enormity of sin and 
 the severity of Divine judgment. Thus instructed, it is pos- 
 sible that the demands of Divine justice may be demonstrated 
 accordant with the antecedent notices of the moral reason ; but 
 there is a wide difference between proving a revealed principle, 
 and discovering it before it is revealed. We are not, then, to 
 blame Plato severely for overlooking that mystery of Divine 
 righteousness, which even the reiterated and explicit intimations 
 of inspiration can scarcely persuade ourselves practically to 
 realize. But we are to censure those who labour by unwar- 
 rantable glosses to dilute into the disciplinary chastenings of a 
 wise benevolence the stern simplicity with which the Scriptures 
 declare the awful anger of a rejected God. These teachers 
 have abounded in every age, and in one remarkable era of our 
 English church history were so closely and avowedly connected 
 with Platonism (especially in its later and more mystical forms) 
 as to have thence derived their ordinary title. Gifted with 
 extraordinary powers of abstract contemplation, and a solemn 
 grandeur of style, they abound with noble thoughts nobly ex- 
 pressed ; but they are all marked with the characteristic defect 
 of Platonized Christianity, — a f orgetfulness, or inadequate com- 
 memoration of the most tremendous proof this part of the uni- 
 verse has ever been permitted to witness of the reality of the 
 Divine hatred of sin — the fact of the Christian atonement' 
 (vol. ii., p. 306-8). With this may be compared the briefer, 
 but substantially coincident expression of thought and feeling, 
 uttered in earlier times by Augustine, Confes. L. viii. c. 21 : 
 Quoniam Justus es, Domine, nos autem peccavimus, etc. 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 The treatise of Ackermann, upon i The Christian Element in 
 Plato/ contains within a brief compass the best account that 
 has yet been given of this very interesting phase of the philo- 
 sophy of the Academy. It does not profess to exhibit the 
 speculative and metaphysical aspects of Plato's system, although 
 its incidental representations in this reference are profound 
 and trustworthy, but aims to present the special points of con- 
 tact between it and Christianity. It is occupied chiefly with 
 those features in Platonism which have affinity with Revelation, 
 and are favourable to the evangelical scheme. 
 
 At the same time, the delineation is discriminating. The 
 author perceives with a clear eye the points of difference and 
 of antagonism between the best philosophical system which the 
 unassisted reason of man has been able to construct, and the 
 wisdom of God in the Christian mysteries. He shows that, 
 at the very utmost, Platonism could only awaken aspirations, 
 and create a hunger and thirst. It could not satisfy the im- 
 mortal longing; it could not supply the bread and water of 
 life. The reader will find, for example, in the fifth chapter 
 of the Second Part of the work, an exceedingly accurate and 
 striking account of humanity as it is by sin, and of the utter 
 impossibility of its regeneration by philosophy. 
 
 The work is thus an instructive treatise upon the relations 
 of natural and revealed religion, or of ethics and the gospel ; 
 and this not in an abstract manner, but as illustrated in the 
 
4 INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 principles and speculations of an actual system of human philo- 
 sophy. As such, it will prove of much value, particularly to 
 the theologian and the preacher, in an age when it is of great 
 importance to distinguish justly between human reason and 
 Divine revelation, in such a manner that the former shall not 
 be vilified, and the latter shall maintain its pre-eminence and 
 paramount authority. 
 
 The translator has performed his task with fidelity and good 
 taste, and I am confident that all his readers will feel under 
 lasting obligation to him for introducing them to an unusually 
 suggestive volume. 
 
 WILLIAM G. T. SHEDD. 
 
 Andover Theological Seminary, 
 June 26, I860. 
 
PEEFACE. 
 
 Amid the extraordinary wealth of literature on Plato, Platonism 
 and Christianity, there is yet no work. which discusses, in a 
 manner corresponding to the present condition of science, the 
 subject of the present treatise. For in the writings on this 
 theme which appeared in former centuries, it has received a 
 too superficial and empirical treatment. In view, therefore, of 
 its great importance to theology and philosophy, and the very 
 general interest with which it is favoured, I held it to be as 
 necessary as suitable at this time to subject it anew to a careful 
 treatment ; more urged to it, I acknowledge, by a decided in- 
 clination, than sufficiently capacitated by a rich and profound 
 knowledge of it. 
 
 I have laboured on this work, which I have had in view for 
 many years, with great and constant delight and affection ; but 
 I cannot say, now that it lies completed before me, that I regard 
 it with a feeling of unmingled gratification. For I perceive 
 how far, notwithstanding all my efforts, it has fallen short of my 
 conception of it. And how could it be otherwise 1 Platonism 
 and Christianity are of far too great magnitude, for even the 
 most capable person, who seeks to determine their relation to 
 each other, to believe that he has fully succeeded in doing so. 
 I shall consider my labour, in attempting such a determination, 
 amply rewarded, if it be the occasion of new and more profound 
 investigations and more perfect presentations. 
 
 The critic of my work will find much in it that he may 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 justly expose, much to call attention to that is overlooked or 
 erroneously apprehended : for every truly instructive and well- 
 meant criticism, I am beforehand heartily thankful. Much also 
 — how could it possibly be otherwise ? — will be misunderstood, 
 distorted, or incorrectly applied. For if, as we are daily re- 
 minded, even the most intimate acquaintances and friends, in 
 simple conversation on everyday matters, frequently misunder- 
 stand each other, and call in question their mutual statements, 
 merely because they have not taken the trouble to apprehend 
 clearly what has been said, we certainly cannot wonder at the 
 multitude of misconstructions and distortions of sense which an 
 author has to suffer from the public. The thought, as written 
 and read, is helpless, as Plato says ; it cannot defend itself, give 
 itself in another form, and set forth more prominently its mis- 
 taken side, when it is wronged or falsely apprehended; and 
 what is there to protect it from the swift condemnation of those 
 w T hose personal or party interest requires them to find it inad- 
 missible 1 ? Readers and critics, who really do the author the 
 kindness of going out of themselves, and at least for so long a 
 time as they are concerned with him, leaving their own way of 
 regarding things, and placing themselves on the author's stand- 
 point, are, for intelligible reasons, exceedingly rare. Every one 
 prefers the convenient to the inconvenient ; and so every reader 
 would rather remain at home, than allow himself to be con- 
 ducted by the author in paths which are not to his taste, and he 
 assures the latter that he can see all that he has to show him 
 from his own parlour window. 
 
 But if I cannot prevent all the misunderstandings which my 
 work will produce, I will at least endeavour on some points, 
 which might give occasion for them, to render myself intelligible 
 to my benevolent readers. 
 
 Many thoughts, as it has occurred to me on reviewing my 
 book, are expressed too boldly and briefly, and may therefore be 
 easily abused, by a very slight application of wit. When, for 
 instance, on p. 135, it is said, t All real intellectual freedom 
 
PREFACE. < 
 
 takes a concrete form from a passive state/ — this sentence 
 might be represented, without much trouble, as one worthy of 
 censure, if the main emphasis were laid on passive. Bat the 
 accent is on real; and not freedom in and of itself is here 
 meant, but that which appears in the phenomenal w T orld, and 
 manifests itself historically therein. 
 
 Many conceptions, propositions, and intimations recur fre- 
 quently in the course of the examination. I must request that 
 this be not everywhere regarded and blamed as unnecessary 
 repetition. To one who ascends a mountain, the view of the 
 country spread out beneath him is presented more than once. 
 To the cursory glance, the recurring landscape appears always 
 the same, but the attentive observer recognises new forms and 
 lights in it from each new point of observation. 
 
 The examination itself is of so high and genuine human 
 interest, that I thought myself under obligation, to procure even 
 for those who are not by profession theologians or philosophers, 
 the possibility of participating in it. Hence I have sought to 
 preserve in the text a language intelligible to every educated 
 person, and have put into the notes that which more particularly 
 concerns the professional scholar. 
 
 The philological branch of Platonic study has, besides, 
 gained little or nothing by the present treatise, since I am not 
 philologist enough to promote the cultivation of it to any 
 special extent. The notes themselves certainly need indulgence, 
 particularly in respect of their form. It is exceedingly difficult, 
 and especially so for the author concerned, to make good notes 
 on the subject treated of, which will afford with accurate 
 brevity that which is most important and essential of the 
 accumulated materials. That I frequently quote, directly after 
 each other, authors of opposite or widely divergent views, need 
 not be immediately construed against me as clumsy syncretism 
 or eclecticism. I will not conceal that I have still a living faith 
 in the calm and extended power of truth, by which often the 
 apparently most heterogeneous tendencies are inwardly held to 
 
8 PKEFACE. 
 
 gether ; for which reason also it gives me great pleasure to seek 
 out and to discover in all the phenomena, in the sphere of the 
 physical or intellectual, that which is related or homogeneous. 
 I know that there is great danger in this endeavour, and that 
 it is therefore disapproved and carefully shunned by many. 
 Thinkers and observers in general may be divided, in this re- 
 spect, as Goethe well remarks (Posthumous Works, 10. p. 203), 
 into two classes ; the one addicted more to the synthetic, the 
 other to the analytic method. The former like to comprehend 
 the manifold in certain unities, the latter cannot too sharply and 
 finely distinguish from each other things which are similar ; 
 and this inward opposition in the manner of thinking and 
 judging, appears only too frequently also in violent reciprocal 
 contention. But must then the inevitable conflict, for the 
 most part very conducive to truth, ever result only in the com- 
 plete annihilation of the opposite method of regarding things ? 
 Cannot the opponents, notwithstanding all the errors which they 
 prove in each other in particulars, acknowledge to each other 
 the correctness of their general course of thought? Cannot 
 they rise to the recognition of the fact, that each is necessary 
 and excellent of its kind, and that both demand, presuppose, and 
 complement each other, and, in case they are carefully used, 
 perform equally essential service to science 1 
 
 Some philosophers will perhaps take offence at the Christian 
 theological colouring in which Platonism appears here, and will 
 be inclined to charge me too hastily with misrepresentation, be- 
 cause they, indeed, when they read Plato, or quote from him, 
 regard and make use of him from an entirely different point of 
 view, and for entirely different ends. I admit the strictly phi- 
 losophical and scientific bearing and character of the Platonic 
 philosophy are far behind its practical religious tendency in my 
 representation. But to throw most light on this very side, and 
 to render it most prominent, was indeed my object and task ; 
 and in seeking to acquit myself of this task, I neither deny that 
 the Platonic philosophy may be regarded from another point 
 
PREFACE. 9 
 
 somewhat otherwise than it here appears, by developing new 
 and here unconsidered traits ; nor do I even maintain that the 
 point of view adopted in this work is absolutely the most com- 
 prehensive, or that which" alone secures the most correct judg- 
 ment of Platonism as a whole. 
 
 If the theologians should object to me, that in the fifth 
 chapter I have not developed the conception of the Christian 
 element as I should in their opinion have done, in a biblico- 
 exegetical way ; but, as they will perhaps say, have allowed my- 
 self to be led to it by a half -poetic consideration of life, I would 
 ask them if they mean that this happened so only by chance, or 
 perhaps only to gratify a sudden fancy, and whether the signi- 
 ficance and necessity of exactly this course of thought have 
 not become evident to them, both from the nature and the 
 treatment of the whole matter. 
 
 But I have most fear that many will take up the present 
 work with false expectations and claims, in respect of the ap- 
 prehension and solution of its main problem, and, because these 
 are not satisfied in it, will consider themselves justified in pass- 
 ing a sharp and bitter judgment on the work. 
 
 I think it quite possible that many will conceive of the con- 
 tents of a work on the Christian element in Plato as profoundly 
 speculative, discussing the main problems of theology and the 
 philosophy of religion. They may even be of opinion that the 
 problem cannot be apprehended, and still less can be solved, 
 in any other than the designated sphere. For in what other 
 department, they will say, than in that of speculative theology, 
 can that be embraced, which Plato, the most theological of all 
 heathen philosophers, manifests in his spiritual affinity with 
 Christian revelation, whose loftiest and most essential doctrine 
 should unquestionably be regarded as that of God and His rela- 
 tion to the world ? 
 
 Now, those who promise themselves much excitement and 
 satisfaction of this kind from my work, will probably not feel 
 themselves much interested by it, and will especially find the 
 
10 PREFACE. 
 
 two principal ideas in the fifth and sixth chapters far below 
 their intensely metaphysical expectations. 
 
 I should be sorry if some of my readers felt themselves 
 moved to complain of a deception of this kind ; but I could, in 
 truth, give them the assurance that I am entirely innocent of it, 
 and that they only needed to have taken my promise fairly and 
 strictly, to have spared themselves the unpleasant feeling. I 
 wished to illustrate and set forth the Christian element in Plato, 
 not the relation and affinity of his theology to that of Chris- 
 tianity. The Christian element of the Platonic philosophy, as 
 such, is by no means identical with the Christian spirit of his 
 speculative doctrine of God ; his theology is related to his 
 Christianity only as the particular to the general ; it is only one 
 of the various forms in which the Christian element in him 
 makes itself known. As I think I have shown that the essence 
 of Christianity is contained not in its doctrine of salvation, but 
 in its saving efficiency, so, of course, I could not seek the 
 Christian element in Plato in his doctrine of the Being of God, 
 but only in his believing consciousness of the salvation which 
 the Divine power and goodness purpose and effect in the world. 
 
 Far, therefore, from acknowledging as well founded the cen- 
 sure of those who perhaps, for the reason mentioned, are dissa- 
 tisfied with the manner in which I have performed my task, 
 I, on the contrary, think myself able to lay claim to a species of 
 commendation ; for not having fallen into the error, so near at 
 hand, of a speculative theological mode of treating my subject, 
 and for having sought to apprehend the Christian element, not 
 where it was not to be met with, in a single branch, but rather 
 in the whole stock, and in the root. 
 
 I should have to write a treatise, and not a preface, if I 
 should enter on a further explanation of the topic here hinted 
 at. A thorough public discussion and explanation of it were, 
 however, highly desirable and timely. For the old habit, which 
 for obvious reasons still adheres to us all more or less, of think- 
 ing immediately, or even exclusively, of something doctrinal, 
 
PREFACE. 11 
 
 when the Christian element or Christianity is spoken of, is still 
 a prolific source of obstinate errors and controversies. 
 
 The very plainness of the two principal ideas in the fifth 
 and sixth chapters, which will be offensive to many of those 
 who, under the name of Plato, have in mind all sorts of 
 sublime and difficult theological ideas, may, it seems to me, serve 
 as a not wholly insignificant token that I have taken the right 
 course in this investigation. For the Christian element, as it 
 actually exists — with which I have had principally to do in this 
 examination — like the Gospel, appears always plain and out- 
 wardly mean. The speculative grandeur which it has within it 
 is not properly developed till after it is transplanted into the 
 purely speculative region of philosophical theology. Perhaps, 
 if God gives me time and strength, I may hereafter attempt to 
 draw a parallel also in this respect between Platonism and 
 Christianity. 
 
 And now may He, whom in truth all powers serve, even 
 those who neither know nor desire it, permit the present work 
 to form a slight contribution to the furtherance of His kingdom, 
 and to this end accompany it with His Spirit and blessing as it 
 goes forth into the tumultuous world ! 
 
 Jena, February 1835. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGR 
 
 Early Recognition of a Christian Element in Plato, . ... 17 
 
 High regard of Plato by the Church fathers ; in the Greek, in 
 the Latin Church. — Opposite judgments of the Church fathers 
 concerning philosophy in general. — Admirers of Plato in the 
 Middle Ages, and in modern times. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Proximate Reason of this Recognition. — Passages and Doc- 
 trines in Plato's Writings which have a Christian tone, . 30 
 
 On the genuineness of Plato's works. — Minor passages from Plato 
 parallel with New Testament passages. — Resemblances be- 
 tween Platonic and Mosaic ordinances. — Other longer passages 
 from Plato which breathe a Christian spirit. — Comparison of 
 important doctrines of the Platonic theology and ethics with 
 related Christian dogmas. — Resemblance between Platonism 
 and Christianity in some formal points. — Small value of all 
 these particulars in a strictly scientific respect. 
 
14 CONTENTS. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAOK 
 
 Removal of False Views and Opinions concerning Plato. — Rela- 
 tion of Plato to the New Platonists, and to Aristotle, . 69 
 
 False representations of Plato diffused both by his admirers and 
 his opponents ; alleged encouragement of extravagant feelings 
 by him ; Plato's low estimate of f eeling demonstrated ; on the 
 so-called Platonic Love. — Whether Plato was an enthusiastic 
 idealist. — Plato accused of Syncretism, decried as a Phantast. 
 — Distinction of New Platonism from Platonism. — Low opinion 
 of Aristotle of the Platonic philosophy ; disputes between the 
 Platonists and Aristotelians ; reason for the misunderstanding 
 between Plato and Aristotle in the intrinsic and necessary dif- 
 ference of their intellectual tendencies. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Hints for a Living Perception of Plato's greatness, . . .107 
 
 The first impression from Plato's works is seldom a satisfactory 
 one ; why ? — By what means the ill-humour of the readers of 
 the Platonic writings is gradually removed. — Fire of the Pla- 
 tonic intellect ; finished presentation ; irony ; organic unity of 
 his works ; the harmonious constitution of the soul and mind 
 of their author ; his strength in severe thinking. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Principal Forms of Ancient Greek Philosophy, and its Position 
 
 with respect to Life, . . . ... . . . 131 
 
 History of the development of philosophy generally ; the most 
 favourable conditions for this existed in Greece. — Ionicism. — 
 Eleaticism. — Pythagorism and the Sophists. — Significance of 
 Platonism in and for the history of philosophy. — Influence of 
 Socrates on Plato. — Apparent similarity, real difference, be- 
 tween the ancient and modern philosophy. — Probable objec- 
 
 r tions to this discussion. 
 
CONTENTS. 15 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Principles of the Platonic Philosophy, . . . .151 
 
 Starting-point of the thinker, the question of Being. — Original 
 identity of being and thinking, relative separation and re-union 
 of the two. — The Becoming and its power. — The right relation 
 between existence and non-existence. — The Being of existence. 
 — Ideas. — Reference of ideas to the Becoming ; Life.— God the 
 original of the universe and life. — Departure of the world and 
 man from God.— Deceptive appearance. — Unhappiness. — Philo- 
 sophy as sajiour. — Dialectics : its relation to Ethics and Physics. 
 — Harmony in the great and the small ; the reason and end of the 
 world as a Divine work. — The germs of Plato's system. — Esoteric 
 and exoteric doctrines. — Significance of the dialogal form for the 
 Platonic philosophy. — Indications for a correct apprehension 
 of the three main conceptions in Platonism : Science, the Good, 
 and the Ideas. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Definition of the Christian Element, . . . . .188 
 
 The point at which the essential feature of Christianity is most 
 surely perceived. — Fundamental impulse of life. — Difference 
 between the lif e of nature in the great whole, and the natural 
 life of man ; the latter relatively more hateful than the former. 
 — The deep degradation of humanity as developed without 
 higher influence. — Life recognises its evil to be its guilt. — The 
 life of Christ that which will alone procure salvation. — Corrobo- 
 ration of the conception thus obtained of the Christian element 
 from the Bible, and by the organic development of all its prin- 
 cipal ideas from one. — The perception of the Jewish and heathen 
 elements which is connected with this. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 That which is clearly Christian in Plato and his Philosophy, . 231 
 
 The most expressive conception of this offers itself unsought. 
 — Proof that it embraces all that is essential to it. — Teleolo- 
 gical character of Platonism ; the relation of this to Plato's 
 theology. — The Platonic way of regarding the world and man, 
 like the Christian ; the Platonic striving to enlighten and bless 
 
16 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 mankind and the world, like the Christian ; the Platonic faith 
 in the historical existence of a Divine power of redemption, a 
 truly Christian one. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Non-Christian and Unchristian Elements in Plato ; Conclusion, . 252 
 Opposers of the Platonic Christianity. — Single unchristian and 
 non-Christian elements in Plato's works. — The Pantheistic ele- 
 ment in his theology. — The chief difference between Platonism 
 and Christianity ; development of all the other deviations from 
 this. — Incomparably high value of Christianity. 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Translation of some Passages from Plato referred to in the Sixth 
 
 Chapter, 269 
 
 ist of Authors referred to, 279 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTIAN ELEMENT* IN PLATO 
 
 AND THE 
 
 PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 I. 
 
 TfflB SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EARLY RECOGNITION OF A CHRISTIAN ELEMENT IN PLATO. 
 
 It has been at all times felt and remarked, that there are some 
 Christian elements in Plato, more indeed than in any other one 
 of the ancient classical authors and philosophers. There has 
 long been a disposition to apply to Plato what our Lord said to 
 the Pharisee, ' Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.' 
 (Mark xii. 34.) 
 
 Plato stood high in the regard of the ancient Christian 
 Church, especially so long as the Greek Church Fathers were 
 peculiarly the formers and leaders of theology. This was in- 
 duced, partly by the custom of the times of deriving philo- 
 sophical instruction principally from Plato, and they attached 
 
18 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 themselves to him in preference to any other, partly from con- 
 viction, because they found in him more Christian elements 
 than in Aristotle. The remark of Patricius is, in the main, cor- 
 rect, that the elevation of Aristotle by scholasticism and the 
 University of Paris, was in exact opposition to the reigning view 
 concerning him in the ancient Christian Church. 
 
 i The Platonic dogmas,' says Justin Martyr, l are not 
 foreign to Christianity. If we Christians say, that all things 
 were created and ordered by God, we seem to enounce a dogma 
 of Plato, and between our view of the Being of God and his, 
 the article alone appears to make a difference.' 
 
 It is not difficult to conceive how Justin arrived at this 
 way of thinking concerning the relation of Christianity to 
 Platonism. He was, indeed, as he himself relates, 1 an enthusi- 
 astic admirer of Plato, before he found in the Gospel that full 
 satisfaction which he had sought earnestly, but in vain, in the 
 other. And, though the Gospel stood infinitely higher in his 
 view than the Platonic philosophy, yet he regarded the latter 
 as a sort of preliminary stage to the former. In the same way 
 did the other apologetic writers express themselves concerning 
 Plato and his philosophy, especially the most spirited and phi- 
 losophically most important among them, Athenagoras, whose 
 Apology is one of the most admirable works of Christian an- 
 tiquity. It was certainly not merely their general knowledge 
 and reverence for the Platonic philosophy which influenced 
 these men in making reference to it so frequently in their de- 
 fences, and in quoting whole passages from Plato's writings ; 
 they were also induced, by the special object of their apologies, 
 which they believed would be best attained by this means. 
 What could seem to them more adapted to gain the favour of 
 the heathen magistrates and emperors for Christianity, than the 
 indication of the many coincidences of Christian and Platonic 
 doctrines ? 
 
 1 ApoL.2, 96, d. Dial. c. Tr. 103, d. etc. 
 
EARLY RECOGNITION OF A CHRISTIAN ELEMENT IN PLATO. 19 
 
 The striking resemblance between them the church fathers 
 sought to explain principally by the acquaintance which Plato 
 made in his journey to Egypt, in part with learned Jews, and. 
 in part with the Jewish Scriptures. Justin was not the first 
 who derived the Platonic Theology and Ethics from this source ; 
 the Jewish historian Josephus, 2 and the Jewish Peripatetic 
 Aristobulus, 3 had already done this, and even the Platonist 
 Numenius had called Plato directly an ' Atticising Moses." 4 
 It was a prevalent opinion in the Christian Church, that Plato 
 and the heathen writers generally, had stolen the best and most 
 beautiful parts of their writings from the Bible, especially the 
 prophetical books. The heathen followers of the divine Plato 
 cast this reproach back on the Christians. Celsus says that 
 Christ took His most renowned sayings from Plato, and that 
 the whole system of Christian doctrine consists really of Platonic 
 dogmas, in part misunderstood and in part perverted. 5 How- 
 ever erroneous these opinions were, they certainly afford a 
 strong proof of the general feeling among the ancients, that 
 Platonism and Christianity were nearly related. 
 
 This relation, Justin, and those church fathers who were 
 not disinclined to the heathen philosophy, sought further to ex- 
 plain on another foundation than that already adduced, viz., the 
 universal and long existing light of divine revelation. God's 
 entire act of revelation was connected by them, as is well known, 
 with the idea of the Logos, and this, moreover, was conceived 
 of by them more in the sense of Philo than in that of John. 
 To the divine Logos corresponded, in their view, the Logos or 
 rational spirit in man. The fullest glory of the eternal Logos, 
 they taught, appeared to the world in Christ ; but long before 
 this appearance, he had already operated in the world, and scat- 
 
 2 Joseph, c. Apion. 2, 1079, ecL Haverc. 
 
 3 Euseb. Praep. Evang. 13, 12. 
 
 4 Clem. Al. Strom. 1, 251, b. Cf. Euseb. Praep. Evang. 11, 10, p. 527, 
 ed. Yiger. 
 
 5 Orig. c. Cels. 6, 640. c ; 641, 644. c ; 7, 714, a. etc. (Ed. Delar). 
 
20 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 tered everywhere single rays of His light ; not merely the pious 
 patriarchs of the old covenant, were enlightened and blessed by 
 a believing hope in the day of the Lord, but also among the 
 heathen sages the rational spirit had, through the ever active 
 power of the eternal Logos, obtained single perceptions of the 
 truth. Hence Justin had no hesitation in numbering them 
 among Christians on earth and among the blessed in heaven. 
 
 It was especially Clement of Alexandria, who sought to de- 
 rive the true and beautiful in Greek philosophy, particularly in 
 Plato, from the original source of highest wisdom. 6 He was 
 a decided Platonist, although he called himself an Eclectic. 
 His writings are full of quotations from Plato, and of compari 
 sons between Platonic and Christian doctrines. He regarded 
 faith as the foundation of theology, as w r ell as of Christian life, 
 and attached to it accordingly a high value ; yet, we must not, 
 he says, with respect to science, be satisfied with simple faith ; 
 we must rather seek to develop it by a careful process of rea- 
 soning, to elevate it and transform it into a real scientific know- 
 ledge (Gnosis). As a consequence of this view r he held true 
 philosophy and true religion to be identical. Their philosophy, 
 though deficient, served to the Greeks, like the law to the Jews, 
 for a schoolmaster or leader to Christ, yea, even for a sort 
 of Christ through whom they might be justified before God. 
 Accordingly he was also inclined to regard Christianity as 
 Platonism raised to perfection and brought out into life and 
 activity. A view which he is indeed careful not to enounce 
 plainly, but which he held in common with many others, and 
 which is still apparent even in the strict Augustine. 7 
 
 His Platonico-Christian way of thinking, and the endeavour 
 to represent Platonism and Christianity as friendly to each other, 
 Clement handed down to his spirited and fertile pupil, Origen, 
 
 6 The principal passage is Strom. 1. 104, a. Cf. 7, 505, and 7, 526, 
 c. sq. 
 
 7 Aug. c. Acad. 3, 20. Cf. Civ. Dei. 8, 8, and especially Eetractt. 
 1, 13 
 
EARLY RECOGNITION OF A CHRISTIAN ELEMENT IN PLATO. 21 
 
 to whom also Platonism came from another source, namely, 
 from Ammonius Saccas, his instructor in philosophy. There 
 are, indeed, in Origen fewer single passages than in the other 
 Church Fathers, in which he mentions the Christianity of Plato 
 with commendation, he often comes out even in decided opposi- 
 tion to it. 8 But, notwithstanding this, Origen must be accounted 
 one of the greatest admirers of Plato, in the Christian Church. 
 His Platonising is seen less in the details than in the whole of 
 his teaching, which is organically penetrated with Platonic 
 ideas, and in part rose out of them. 
 
 A Church Father of the first centuries, speaking generally, 
 did not easily escape the influence of Platonism ; even in the 
 doctrinal views of the ' ecclesiastically dogmatic ' Irenaeus, 
 Platonic elements break through here and there. None, how- 
 ever, instituted so thorough a comparison between Platonic and 
 Christian dogmas, and brought out the harmonious relation 
 of Platonism to Christianity, so industriously as Eusebius of 
 Caesarea. He calls Plato ' the only Greek who has attained 
 the porch of (Christian) truth,' 9 and the 11th, 12th, and 13th 
 books of his Evangelical Preparation have at bottom no other 
 aim than to prove this proposition. As he designates the points 
 in which Christ and Plato agree, he is also not silent concern- 
 ing those in which they differ. And thus, at last, is manifested 
 in him, as in all the church fathers, the lofty superiority which 
 Christianity possesses above even the highest and best heathen 
 philosophy. 
 
 Theodoret also labours to show this in his interesting work 
 on ' The healing of the Grecomania.' In this work, he gives 
 the Platonic philosophy preference above every other, because 
 it comes nearest to the chief doctrines of Christianity. Hence 
 also, it exercised, according to his view, an influence preparatory 
 for Christianity, but did not possess inward energy sufficient to 
 penetrate and reform the world. 
 
 8 C. Cels. 6, 630, a , 7, 724, c. etc. 9 Praep. Evang. 13, 14. 
 
22 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 It is well known, and as easily understood, in how com- 
 mendatory and appreciative a manner the great Augustine ex- 
 presses himself concerning Plato and his philosophy, especially 
 in his celebrated work, 'De civitate Dei,' which a modern 
 investigator calls ' the ripest fruit of the inward union of 
 Christian and Platonic wisdom.' He, like Justin, had been 
 a zealous adherent of the Academy before he had recognized 
 in Christ the fulness of light and life, and though, as a 
 Christian, he took up arms against his former associates, yet he 
 always confessed that the Platonists were the most Christian 
 among all the heathen, and, ' that they only needed to change 
 their words and opinions a little to become true Christians.' 
 A passage in his Confessions is especially noteworthy in this 
 connection, where he thanks God that he became acquainted 
 with Plato's writings first, and with the Gospel afterwards, for, 
 if the case had been reversed, he might have been drawn away 
 from the firm foundation of his piety, or have taken up the 
 opinion, that having even these books alone, one could attain 
 to Christian piety. 10 
 
 By the side of this expression of Augustine may be placed 
 the opinion of Bellarmine, which he gave to Pope Clement 
 VIIL, when the latter proposed to introduce the Platonic phi- 
 losophy formally into the higher course of instruction. Bellar- 
 mine gave his counsel against this procedure, on the ground that 
 the Platonic philosophy comes nearest to Christian theology, 
 and hence, is most adapted to attract those minds which are 
 seeking Christianity, and thus to prevent their further advance. 
 
 Philosophy was less loved in the Western than in the 
 Eastern Church ; the former apprehended rather the practical 
 earnestness of Christianity, the latter was more inclined to view 
 it from its speculative side. Hence violent invectives against 
 the old heathen philosophy are not rare in the w T ritings of the 
 other Latin Fathers ; and they often express themselves even 
 
 30 Confess. 7, 20. 
 
EARLY RECOGNITION OF A CHRISTIAN ELEMENT IN PLATO. 23 
 
 concerning Plato with a certain contemptuousness. Especially 
 must be mentioned the glowing Tertullian. To him the whole 
 heathen philosophy is hateful ; obscurity and conceit seem to 
 him its primal elements, 11 and Platonism, he regards, as the 
 most eminent source of all heresies and perversions of the 
 Gospel. We meet with similar views and expressions in Jul. 
 Firmicus, Arnobius, and Lactantius. 12 The witty Hermias 
 also stands, as regards his contempt of philosophy, on the side 
 of the Latins. 
 
 Yet so strict a separation of the church fathers into a right 
 and left side with respect to their views of philosophy and 
 Platonism, as is usually made, and may appear to have been 
 undertaken in what has been said above, cannot be carried 
 out and justified. If we would see our way clearly through 
 the apparently great contradictions which the church fathers 
 afford with respect to their estimate of Platonism, we must 
 seek an entirely different point of view from that usually and 
 most easily adopted. We must before all things be con- 
 vinced of the decided position of all the church fathers within 
 Christian or evangelical truth, and recognize their deep and 
 enthusiastic reverence for it. Nothing, not the glory of the 
 world, nor the splendour of merely human wisdom, was able 
 to make them falter, or to draw them from the position which 
 they had honestly chosen. They do not stand together before 
 the Gospel and philosophy with unbiassed minds ; and when 
 they declare for the Gospel, choose it in consequence of an 
 intelligent appreciation and examination of it ; much rather is 
 the elective determination of the mind long since past, and 
 they are captivated by the glory of the Lord and in favour of 
 the Gospel ; and however variously and in opposition to each 
 other they may express themselves concerning the value of 
 
 11 Apol. 46, 47. Adv. Herm. 8, c. haer. 7, de an. 23, Cf. 55. 
 
 12 Jul. Firm, de error, prof. rel. 2, 1, etc. Arnob. Adv. 9. 2, 10, 11, 
 and especially 50. Lact. Inst. 3. 3, 19, 21, etc. Cf. Theoph. ad Ant. 3, 
 390, b; 381, esq. 
 
24 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 philosophy and its relation to Christianity, all these expressions 
 recur to the one fundamental view common to all of them on 
 this subject ; Philosophy was of little value to them, as such, 
 and their estimation of it, whether slight 13 or high, had respect 
 only to its agency as preparatory to Christianity and as con- 
 ducive to the development of Christian faith. Their com- 
 mendation of Plato did not proceed from a heart divided 
 between Plato and Christ ; their whole ardour and enthusiasm 
 was ever unalterably directed to the Lord ; and when they 
 pointed, with commendation, to Plato, this was only because he 
 seemed to them to point to Christ, and because, in their 
 opinion, if he had lived till the time of Christ, he would have 
 fallen in homage before the Lord Jesus, and would have 
 beheld with joy the realization of his ideals in and through 
 Him. They valued and reverenced the Platonic philosophy 
 therefore, merely on account of its relation of ministry to the 
 great work of Redemption, — a relation appointed by God Him- 
 self ; outside of this connection, and in so far as the New 
 Platonist endeavoured to give to the philosophy an entirely 
 different meaning and value from that above designated, it 
 appeared to them a vain and objectionable thing, and its pre- 
 tension to pass for something in and of itself they considered 
 an assumption which was not by any means to be tolerated. 
 By this it can be explained, that we find so often in the same 
 church fathers contradictory expressions concerning philosophy 
 and Platonism, and hence it is, that the philosophy-hating 
 Arnobius and Lactantius frequently designated philosophers as 
 participating in Christian truth, while Origen, who* was full of 
 love and admiration for Plato, becomes at times a most violent 
 opponent of philosophy and Plato ! Facts of this kind must, 
 of course, be weighed against each other, if we would arrive at 
 a just view of the much discussed and questioned Platonism of 
 the church fathers. 
 
 13 Just. Ap. 1, 46. Dial, c Tr. 102, a. A particularly beautiful pas- 
 sage in Athen. leg. p. 288, b. sq. Clem. Al. Strom. 1, 217 ; 6, 465, etc. 
 
EARLY RECOGNITION OF A CHRISTIAN ELEMENT IN PLATO. 25 
 
 There was, in general, in Christian antiquity, a great and 
 decided disposition to bring Plato within the circle of the 
 Gospel, and to represent his teaching as similar to the evan- 
 gelical. Hence the younger Apollinaris made the remarkable 
 attempt to re-cast the New Testament into Platonic dialogues ! 
 Hence, also, the legend arose, and became widely diffused, that 
 Plato came into immediate contact with Christ on His descent 
 into hell, and was by Him redeemed and raised to heaven. 
 
 In the middle ages and in modern times, there has not 
 been wanting a due acknowledgment of the Christian element 
 in Plato. The ancient reverence for Plato did indeed decrease 
 on the rise of the scholastic philosophy, and that for Aristotle 
 took its place ; their ignorance of Greek also kept the school- 
 men far from Plato, since translations of his works were less 
 widely diffused than of those of Aristotle. Yet the usual view 
 of the Platonic philosophy maintained its ground even in 
 scholasticism, though, in some cases, only as a reminiscence, not 
 as a living product of independent study. There were two cir- 
 cumstances especially, which ensured the continuance of this 
 view in the middle ages, the accordance of Plato and Aristotle 
 in all essential points, which had been expressed in antiquity, 
 and was very generally accepted by the schoolmen, but chiefly 
 the tendency to mystical theology, which had become strong 
 since the fifth and sixth centuries, and was increased by schol- 
 asticism. The so-called Areopagite Dionysius has long passed 
 for the father and founder of this theology ; and his theological 
 system was nothing else but New Platonism translated into 
 Christian phraseology. The publication and diffusion of the 
 writings of Dionysius was zealously promoted by the Platonizing 
 Scotus Erigena. 
 
 The all-revered Augustine also contributed not a little to the 
 spread and high estimation of Platonico-Christian ideas in the 
 middle ages. The Platonico-Augustinian views appear most 
 prominently in the celebrated Anselm of Canterbury ; but even 
 in Abelard, who was, in certain respects, his complete opposite, 
 
26 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 the rigorous Bernard of Clairvaux found this especially blame- 
 worthy, that he laboured so zealously to prove the Christianity 
 of Plato. Yet Bernard himself, on account of his mystical 
 principles, was not incorrectly declared to be a Platonist, — for 
 what he teaches of the contemplative life and of self-denying 
 love, is certainly Platonic. 
 
 In proportion as the mystic was victorious over the scholas- 
 tic theology, Plato regained that high consideration which he 
 had formerly enjoyed without a rival in the Christian Church. 
 Even if the mystics did not call attention, in express words to 
 the Christian elements of the Platonic philosophy, yet their 
 very appearance furnishes a speaking testimony in its favour ; 
 for their Christianity is (so to speak) only the developed and 
 manifested Christianity of Platonism. And here the profound 
 and spiritual Tauler deserves especial mention. 
 
 Plato, however, became the object of a particularly enthusi- 
 astic admiration at the revival of classical literature in Italy. 
 In the house of the Medici, in Florence, and under the leader- 
 ship of Ficinus, who, as is well known, wrote a work on the 
 theology of Plato, was instituted a formal Platonic Academy ; 
 the birth-day festival of the great master, which had not been 
 celebrated since the death of Porphyry, was restored, and it was 
 passages from Plato's works which Cosmo de Medici com- 
 mended, even on his death-bed, for their Christianity and con- 
 soling power. 
 
 Single testimonies for the Christian character of the Platonic 
 philosophy, may also be drawn from the period of the Eeforma- 
 tion. The classically-educated Erasmus, 14 especially, did not 
 neglect to call attention to this. The revered Melancthon also 
 delivered an excellent panegyric on Plato, 15 although in spite of 
 his friend Luther's anti- Aristotelian sentiments, he was much 
 more inclined to Aristotelianism than to Platonism. 
 
 The times after the Reformation were not adapted to aid the 
 
 14 Eras. Adhort. ad Christ, phil. studium. (Opp. Basle. 1540, iv. p 119). 
 
 15 Melancth. Oratt. t. 2. p. 347, sq. 
 
EARLY RECOGNITION OF A CHRISTIAN ELEMENT IN PLATO. 27 
 
 Protestant theologians to a calm and appreciative view of Plato. 
 Yet a number of writings might be mentioned of the 16th, as 
 well as the 17th and 18th centuries, principally, however, by 
 Catholics, of which some have, for their sole object, to compare 
 the Platonic with the Christian doctrines, and to show the con- 
 nection between them, while others indicate the relationship only 
 incidentally and in passing. Those who maintained the agree- 
 ment of Platonism with Christianity, were, of course, attacked by 
 opponents, both numerous and violent, particularly among the 
 Protestants. 
 
 Some of the most important friends of the Platonic philo- 
 sophy in this period were Steuchus Eugubinus, 16 Franciscus 
 Patricius, 17 and Petrus Calanna. 18 Patricius enumerates forty- 
 three propositions, in which Plato harmonizes with the Christian 
 theology, but Aristotle does not. Nor less did Mornseus, in his 
 Apology 19 for the Christian religion, Vieri, 20 Pansa, 21 and Gale, 22 
 labour to procure the recognition of the Christian spirit of 
 Platonism. But this theme was treated most at large, in an 
 extensive work by Livius Galantes, which, however, can lay 
 little claim to real scientific and philosophical importance. 23 
 
 We may also consider, as a recommendation of the Platonic 
 philosopheme, on the side of its Christianity, the copious and 
 well known work of Cudworth, the ' Intellectual System,' 24 the 
 value of which has been considerably increased by the editing 
 
 16 Steuch. Eugub. de nerenni philosophia. Bas. 1542. 
 
 17 Fr. Patricius Aristoteles exotericus, in the Appendix to his Nova de 
 universis philos. Ferr. 1591, fol. 
 
 18 Petr. Calanna, Philosophia seniorum, sacerdotia et Platonica. 
 Panorm. 1599. 
 
 19 Mornseus de verit. vel. christianse. Antwerp, 1580. 
 
 20 Fr. de Vieri Compendium doctrinae plat, quatenus cum Christ fide con- 
 spirat. 1517. 
 
 21 Pansa. de consensu ethnicse et Christ, philosophise. Marburg. 1605. 
 
 22 Gale, Atrium Gentilium. Oxford. 1672. 
 
 23 Liv. Galantes de Christ, theologise cum Platonica comparatione. 
 Bol. 1627, fol. 
 
 24 Ealph Cudworth. Systema intellectuale. Jena. 1733 fol. 
 
ZO THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 of that thorough investigator, Mosheim. Reactions, however, 
 from the threatening preponderance of Platonism, did not fail 
 to make their appearance also in England. 
 
 In later and most recent times, the Christian element of the 
 Platonic philosophy has not been treated or demonstrated in any 
 great work devoted exclusively to this subject. Not a few 
 references to it, however, occur in theological and philosophical 
 works. The able writings of Bautain 20 and Degerando, 26 es- 
 pecially, contain such hints and observations : the short history 
 of Platonic philosophy also, by Combes-Dounous, may be men- 
 tioned here. The Dane Luxdorph wrote on the margin of his 
 Plato, the parallel passages from the Bible which seemed ap- 
 propriate to him, and he found many such, both in the Old and 
 New Testaments. Since his death, this collection of passages 
 has been published with notes by Worm. Wettstein has drawn 
 similar parallels between Christian and Platonic sentences, in 
 his well-known edition of the New Testament, which has a 
 general reference to ancient classical literature. 
 
 Among German philosophers, Jacobi, whom Schelling 
 justly calls the spiritual kinsman of Plato, is the principal one, 
 who has perceived and called attention to the inclination of the 
 Platonic to the Christian theology ; 27 and among German 
 theologians, Staudlin has done most service in promoting the 
 investigation of this subject. He rightly places Plato near to 
 Christianity, but may have erred, in that he is inclined with 
 Augustine to believe, that Plato would have acknowledged 
 Jesus as his Lord and Redeemer, if it had been granted to him 
 to have lived till His appearance on earth. Grotefend, in his 
 valuable prize- essay, expresses himself more correctly and more 
 
 25 Bautain La morale de l'evang. comparee a la mor. des philosophes. 
 Strasbourg, 1828. 
 
 26 Degerando Hist, comparee des systemes de philos. 2° Ed. Paris. 1822. 
 
 27 Jacobi Sammtl. Wke. (Leipzic 1815) 2, 123, etc., Schelling vom Ich. 
 S. 40. 
 
EARLY RECOGNITION OF A CHRISTIAN ELEMENT IN PLATO. 29 
 
 cautiously, on the friendly understanding which, in part, really 
 exists between Platonism and Christianity, and which in part is 
 only apparent. 28 
 
 A few cursory indications only have been adduced from the 
 history of philosophy and theology, to establish the main pro- 
 position of this chapter, that the Christian element in Plato was 
 early noted and spoken of. But these few indications are un- 
 questionably quite sufficient to prove and corroborate this as- 
 sertion. 
 
 28 See List of authors in the Appendix. 
 
30 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. — PASSAGES AND 
 DOCTRINES IN PLATO'S WRITINGS WHICH HAVE A CHRISTIAN 
 TONE. 
 
 Having now seen that Plato was considered almost universally, 
 and, from early times, the most Christian of all the heathen, the 
 question next presses itself upon our attention ; wherein lies the 
 ground for this judgment, or what is it that has earned this 
 acknowledgment in Plato's favour? And whither should we 
 turn to obtain an answer to this question rather than to his 
 writings ? But before we investigate these, we must seek to 
 gain at least some degree of certainty with respect to their 
 genuineness. 
 
 Plato's renown being so great, it was certain that many 
 writings would be introduced to the world under his name, which 
 did not proceed from him. Hence even the ancients distin- 
 guished between the genuine writings and those which had 
 been forged in his name, to attract attention. But they were 
 not generally so severe in their criticism as the moderns, and 
 hence allowed many dialogues to pass for genuine productions 
 of Plato, which have been detained by modern critics, and after 
 careful examination rejected as spurious. JSTo doubt, this 
 severity has been excessive, especially in the case of Socher, 1 
 who will not even allow the dialogues, — Sophist, Statesman, and 
 Parmenide^, to be Plato's. The treatment of the excellent 
 
 i s 
 
 ee list of authors in the Appendix. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 31 
 
 Ast 1 is indeed milder, but, doubtless, too severe also is the sen- 
 tence of rejection which he pronounces on Meno, Theages, the 
 Apology, and the Laws. Ritter 1 decides most fairly, and cer- 
 tainly most correctly, when he attributes to Plato most of the 
 dialogues lately attacked, but declares them to be unimportant 
 with respect to their spirit and contents. He rightly desig- 
 nates the Epistles, Theages, Hipparchus 1, and Alcibiades 1, 
 as spurious writings, but having the Platonic way of think- 
 ing. 
 
 This is not the place to enter more particularly into these 
 criticisms, nor is it necessary for our object. In order to dis- 
 cover the Christian element in Plato's philosophy, we shall rely 
 principally on his undoubtedly genuine writings, — Phsedrus, Pro- 
 tagoras, Gorgias, Phsedo, Parmenides, the Sophist, Thesetetus, 
 Philebus, Cratylus, the Banquet, the Statesman, the Republic, 
 Timaeus, and Critias ; and if we take others into consideration, 
 it is on account of such passages and thoughts as have an un- 
 mistakeable Platonic stamp, though Plato himself may not have 
 indited them. This is especially the case with the Laws. Plato 
 can hardly have been their author. But setting aside certain 
 digressions and feeblenesses, they are composed so entirely in 
 his spirit, that they might be presented with as much justice under 
 his name as Deuteronomy under that of Moses. 
 
 If now we take a survey of Plato's writings, we think we 
 shall soon be able to discover the reason of this recognition, by 
 Christians, with which he has been favoured. We meet with 
 not a few places which strikingly remind us of passages in the 
 Holy Scriptures, and have even a surprising verbal resemblance 
 to these. 
 
 In the Phaedo, for instance, the destiny of men after death 
 is described. It is there said of the tormented : ( they call on 
 those whom they injured, and entreat and implore them to suffer 
 them to go out into the lake, and to receive them,' etc. — just as 
 
 1 See list of authors in the Appendix. 
 
32 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 Jesus relates of the rich man who was in hell and torment. 2 
 1 To be very rich and good at the same time,' it is said in the 
 Laws, 'is impossible;' 3 Jesus said, i a rich man shall hardly 
 enter into the kingdom of heaven' (Matt. xix. 23.) In the 
 Banquet, i a cutting off of hands and feet is spoken of in the 
 same sense in which Jesus speaks of it.' 4 (Matt. v. 30, xviii. 8.) 
 As Jesus said to His disciples : 6 Fear not them that kill the 
 body, but are not able to kill the soul,' etc. (Matt. x. 28), so 
 Plato represents Socrates as declaring before his judges, that he 
 feared and shunned acting unjustly and disobeying God more 
 than death. 5 c I must obey God rather than you, men,' says 
 Socrates in the same passage, 6 just as the Apostles, when for- 
 bidden to preach, gave this same answer to the Council in 
 Jerusalem. (Acts v. 29.) In fact Socrates regarded his business 
 to instruct and better men, with the same earnestness, as having 
 been committed to him by God, with which the Apostles did the 
 proclamation of the Gospel. 7 The simple truth : i He is just 
 and well-pleasing to God, who acts justly and piously towards 
 the gods,' s is found in almost the same words in John. (1 Jno. 
 iii. 7.) The passage in the Republic, 9 where the State within 
 men is spoken of, reminds us of the beautiful saying of our Lord, 
 ' the kingdom of heaven is within you.' ' No man can serve 
 two masters,' says our Lord, i to honour riches,' maintains 
 Plato, i and at the same time practise temperance is impossible, 
 since either the one or the other must necessarily be neglected.' 10 
 What Paul writes of those ( who run in a race,' etc. (1 Cor. 
 
 2 Phaedo (Ed. Steph) 114, a. [i. p. 123] cf. Luke xiv. 23. The refer- 
 ences to Plato's "Works in brackets will be throughout to the English Trans- 
 lation pub. by H. G. Bohn, in six voll. London, 1854, etc. 
 
 3 Legg. 5, 742, e. [v. p. 1811]. Celsus maintained that Jesus took this 
 saying from Plato. Origen, c. Cels. 6, 641. 
 
 4 Conv. 205, e. [iii. p. 540]. 5 Apol. 29, b. [i. p. 16]. 
 6 Apol. d. [i. p. 17]. 7 lb. 30. a. [i. p. 17]. 
 
 8 Gorg. 507, b. [i. p. 210] 
 
 9 Luke xvii. 21. Eep. 9, 591, e. [ii. p. 282]. 
 
 10 Luke xvi. 13. Rep. 8, 555, c. [ii. p. 245] 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 33 
 
 ix. 21 ; 2 Tim. iv. 7). Plato also expresses, with not less emphasis, 
 when he says, l But such as are true racers, arriving at the end, 
 both receive the prizes and are crowned ;' n and he concludes his 
 work on the Republic in the following elevated and truly Chris- 
 tian manner : u ( But if the company will be persuaded by me ; 
 considering the soul to be immortal, and able to bear all evil 
 and good, we shall always persevere in the road that leads up- 
 wards, and shall by all means pursue justice in unison with 
 prudence, that so we may be found both to ourselves and the 
 gods, both while we remain here and when we afterwards re- 
 ceive its rewards, like victors assembled together ; and so, both 
 here and in that journey of a thousand years which we have de- 
 scribed, we shall be happy.' To whom does not this passage re- 
 call those beautiful words, 'Set your affections on things above,' 
 etc. ; and ' our conversation is in heaven' etc. (Col. iii. 2 ; Phil, 
 iii. 20) ? And does not the description which is given of Love 
 in the Banquet, 13 correspond in many points with that which 
 Paul gives of it ? 1 Cor. xiii. 3, seq. Love, it is said, i is he 
 who divests us of all feelings of alienation, and fills us with 
 those of intimacy ; introducing mildness and banishing a harsh- 
 ness of manners ; the friendly giver of good- will, the non-giver 
 of enmity ; gracious to the good ; looked up to by the wise, ad- 
 mired by the gods,' etc. So the condition of the blessed is 
 presented with almost the same features in the Phaedo 14 as in 
 Rev. xxi. 4 ; and when, in the 10th book of the Laws, 15 the im- 
 possibility of escaping the judgments of God is set forth, this 
 seems like a complete parallel to Ps. cxxxix. 1, sqq. The saying 
 of Paul also, < All things work together for go^.d to them that 
 love God' (Rom. viii. 28), finds its perfect counterpart in Plato. 
 In the 10th book of the Republic 16 it is said, < And shall we not 
 
 11 Rep. 10, 613, c. [ii. p. 304]. ** lb. 621, c. [ii. p. 312]. 
 
 13 Conv. 197, d. [iii. p. 524]. " Phaed. 81, a. [i. p. 84]. 
 
 15 Legg. 10, 905, a. [v. p. 445]. The resemblance between the two 
 passages is very great at first sight, but is diminished, as Worm correctly 
 remarks, on closer consideration. 
 
 16 Rep. 10, 612. e. [ii. p. 303]. 
 
 3 
 
M THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 agree that as to the man, who is beloved of the gods, whatever 
 comes to him from the gods, will all be the best possible. Cer- 
 tainly we are then to think thus of the just man, that, if he 
 happens to be in poverty, or in disease, or in any other of these 
 seeming evils, these things issue to him in something good, either 
 whilst alive or dead.' 
 -\ Especially striking is the similarity between single Platonic 
 and Mosaic commands and institutions, which explains in part 
 the title of <• Atticising Moses,' which was given to Plato. The 
 abuse of the Divine name, and invoking God with a falsehood, 
 are forbidden by the Platonic as by the Mosaic laws. 17 Every 
 one — so prescribe the Laws, 18 must honour his parents in word 
 and deed. The Fifth Commandment occurs, connected with its 
 religious motive, in the 11th book of the Laws ; ' Let not then 
 any one, whose father or mother, or the fathers or mothers of 
 these, lie in his house, like a deposit, worn down with old age, 
 ever conceive, that while he has such a possession at his hearth 
 and in his house, there will be ever a statue more powerful, if only 
 the possessor ministers to it in a proper manner.' 19 Like Moses, 
 Plato also forbids most strictly private altars and private divine 
 worship ; and even, for the same reasons, because private worship 
 endangers both the purity of the public religion and the firm- 
 ness of political unity. 20 No Greek was permitted to hold a 
 Greek in slavery. So the Israelites were to let the Hebrew 
 servant go free in the seventh year. 21 The displacing of land- 
 marks is forbidden as expressly as in the Pentateuch ; 22 thieves 
 are required to restore the stolen property ; 23 children are not to 
 
 17 Exod. xx. 7 ; Legg. 11, 916, e. 917, b. [v. p. 462-3]. 
 
 18 Lev. xix. 32 ; Legg. 9, 879, c. [v. p. 397-8]. 
 
 19 Legg. 11, 931, d. [v. p. 487]. 
 
 20 Legg. 10, 909, d. [v. p. 453] Cf. Lev. xvii. 1-9 ; Deut. xii. 13, 
 xvi. 5. 
 
 21 Eep. 5, 469, c. [ii. p. 469]. Cf. Euseb. Praep. ev. 12, 37. 
 
 22 Legg. 8, 842, e. [v. p. 337]. Cf. Deut, xix. 14; Euseb. Praep. Ev. 
 12, 38. 
 
 23 Legg. 9, 864, d, e. [v. p. 371] Cf. Exod. xxii. 1, 2 ; Euseb. Pr. ev. 12, 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 35 
 
 expiate the transgressions of their parents ; 24 domestic animals by 
 which men have been killed, are to be killed in return, etc. 25 The 
 prolix ordinances with regard to homicide and woundings, have 
 generally very much in common with the Mosaic ordinances on 
 this point. 26 Plato also, like Moses, 27 institutes religious festivals, 
 which were to be at the same time national festivals ; and the 
 church fathers have not allowed it to pass unnoticed, 28 that in 
 most of -his institutions he refers, like Moses, to heavenly types, 
 or copies, and arranges according to these. They also call 
 attention to the same division of the people into twelve tribes by 
 Plato and Moses. 29 
 
 Besides the passages in Plato which correspond to biblical 
 texts of similar purport, the half of which can scarcely be 
 mentioned here, — since our object does not require their com- 
 plete enumeration, — there are not a few passages which, though 
 not in single words and phrases, yet in their whole tone and 
 spirit, have a Christian assonance. 
 
 How beautifully and how much in accordance with Chris- 
 tianity, is the divinely imparted grandeur and dignity of man 
 presented in the Timseus % c But with respect to the highest 
 and most leading part of our souls, we should conceive as 
 follows : — that the Deity assigned this to each as a daemon, — 
 that, namely, which we say, and say correctly too, resides at 
 the summit of the body and raises us from earth to our 
 cognate place in heaven : — for we are plants, not of earth, but 
 
 40. Luxdorph calls attention to the prohibition of usury by Plato as by 
 Moses, Lev. xxv. 35 ; Legg. 5, 610 (ed. Fie.) [v. p. 182]. 
 
 24 Legg. 9, 856, e. [v. p. 358] Cf. Dent, xxiv. 16 ; Ezek. xviii, 19, 20. 
 
 25 Legg. 9, 873, e. [v. p. 388] Cf. Ex. xxi. 18 ; Euseb. Praep. Ev. 12, 
 42. 
 
 26 Legg. 9, 865 to the end [v. p. 372, etc.] Cf. Exod. xxi. 12, sq. 
 
 27 Legg. 8, 828, sq. [v. p. 313] Cf. Lev. xxiii. ; Deut. xvi. 
 
 28 Clem. Al. Strom. 4, p. 395, 5, 425 ; Euseb. 12, 19, etc. 
 
 29 Legg. 6, 760, b. [v. p. 205]. Euseb. Praep. Ev. 12, 47. But in Attica 
 this division existed as far back as the time of Cecrops (Strabo 9). A similar 
 institution to the Levirate marriage occurs also in Plato, according to the 
 Luxdorphiana. Deut. xxv. 5 ; Legg. 11 (679, ed. Fie.) 924, e. [v. p. 476]. 
 
3(5 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 heaven ; 30 and, from the same source whence the soul first arose, 
 a divine nature raising aloft our head and root, directs our 
 whole corporeal frame/ etc. Thoughts of this kind generally 
 were not strange to the Greeks. Even Paul, as is well known, 
 borrowed the beautiful sentence, ' for we are his offspring,' 
 from a Greek poet. 31 (Acts xvii. 28). 
 
 Can the Christian thought that man must not be perplexed 
 in his faith in Divine Providence and Goodness by single dis- 
 turbing impressions, since the imperfection of the individual is 
 the necessary condition of the perfection of the whole, be ex- 
 pressed more worthily and clearly than it is in the tenth book 
 of the Laws? 32 'Let us persuade the young man by our 
 reasonings, that by him, who takes care of the universe, with a 
 view to the safety and excellence of the whole, everything has 
 been arranged, each part of which, as far as possible, suffers 
 and acts what is suited to it ; and that over each of these parts 
 rulers have been appointed with reference even to the smallest 
 portion of action and passion, having worked out an end to the, 
 ultimate distribution ; of which parts, even thy portion, O 
 miserable man, is one, and although it is very small, it is con- 
 tinually stretching its view to the whole. But this very thing 
 has lain hid from you, that all generation is for the sake of the 
 whole, in order that the existence of the universe may be happy 
 in its life, and not for the sake of you ; but that you exist 
 for the sake of the universe,' etc. It might easily be shown 
 further, if this were the place for it, that this thought is only 
 the philosophical development of a heroic disposition natural to 
 the antique life, in consequence of which, the negation of the 
 individual as opposed to a great whole, as e.g., the state, was 
 accomplished without difficulty or hesitation. In our modern 
 life individuality and personality have obtained a wholly differ- 
 ent significance ; hence also is so frequent among us the striv- 
 
 30 Tim. 90, a. [ii. p. 406]. 
 
 31 Arat, Phaen. v. 5 ; Cleanth. hymn, in Jov. v. 5. 
 
 32 Legg. 10, 903, b. [v. p. 440]. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 37 
 
 ing of the individual to subordinate the objective to himself, 
 instead of subordinating himself to the objective. 
 
 What a profound thought is that, and with what a holy 
 earnestness does Plato express it by the mouth of Socrates in 
 the Theaetetus, 33 where he mentions the fatal blindness and 
 confusion of those who suppose that it is marvellously well 
 with them, while yet they are continually advancing towards 
 perdition. c Theod. — If, Socrates, you could persuade all men 
 of what you say, as you have me, there would be more peace 
 and less evil among men. Socr. — But it is not possible, Theo- 
 doras, that evil should be destroyed ; for it is necessary that 
 there should be always something contrary to good ; nor can it 
 be seated among the gods, but of necessity moves round this 
 mortal nature and this region. Wherefore we ought to en- 
 deavour to fly hence thither as quickly as possible. But this 
 flight consists in resembling God as much as possible ; and this 
 resemblance is the becoming just and holy with wisdom. But, 
 my excellent friend, it is not very easy to persuade men, that 
 not for the reasons for which most men say we ought to flee 
 from vice and pursue virtue, ought we to study the one and 
 not the other, namely, that a man may not seem to be vicious, 
 but may seem to be good, for these are, as the saying is, the 
 drivellings of old women, as it appears to me. But let us 
 describe the truth as follows : God is never in any respect 
 unjust, but as just as possible, and there is not anything that 
 resembles Him more than the man amongst us who has like- 
 wise become as just as possible. And on this depends the true 
 excellence of a man, and his nothingness and worthlessness : 
 For the knowledge f this is wisdom and true virtue ; but the 
 not knowing it is manifest ignorance and vice. It is then by 
 far the best not to allow him who acts unjustly, and who speaks 
 or acts impiously, to excel by reason of his wickedness ; for 
 they delight in this reproach, and think they hear that they 
 
 33 Theaet. 176, b. sq. [i. p. 411]. 
 
38 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 are not valueless, mere burdens on the earth, but men such as 
 they ought to be, who will be safe in a city. The truth, there- 
 fore, must be spoken, that they are so much the more what 
 they think that they are not, from not thinking that they are 
 such. For they are ignorant of the punishment of injustice, 
 of which they ought to be least of all ignorant : for it does not 
 consist in what they imagine, stripes and death, which they 
 sometimes suffer who do not commit injustice, but in that 
 which 'it is impossible to avoid. Theod. — What do you mean? 
 Socr. — Since, my friend, there are two models in the nature of 
 things, one divine and most happy, the other ungodly and most 
 miserable, they, not perceiving that this is the case, through 
 stupidity and extreme folly unknown to themselves, become 
 similar to the one by unjust actions, and dissimilar to the. other. 
 Wherefore they are punished by leading a life suited to that to 
 which they are assimilated. 34 But if we should tell them, that 
 unless they abandon this excellence, that place which is free 
 from all evil will not receive them when dead, but here they 1 
 will always lead a life resembling themselves, and there will 
 associate with evil, these things, as being altogether shrewd 
 and crafty, they will listen to as the extravagances of foolish 
 men.' The Apostle, with similar meaning, addressed the be- 
 guiled disciples, 6 Be not deceived — what a man soweth that 
 shall he also reap ' (Gal. vi. 7) ; and Fichte still more exactly 
 expresses the thought of Plato, in the deeply significant words, 
 ' What thou lovest, that thou art, and that thou livest.' 
 
 This reminds us of another powerful passage in Plato, 35 
 where he describes the doings and practices of those, to whom, 
 as Paul says (Phil. iii. 19), ' their belly is their God ;' or who 
 are always asking : i What shall we eat ? and, What shall we 
 drink?' etc. (Matt. vi. 31). 'Such then as are unacquainted with 
 wisdom and virtue, and are always conversant in feastings, and 
 
 34 Cf. the parallel passage. Legg. 5, 728, ab. [v. p. 154-5], and for 
 the elucidation of the thought, Phaed. 83, d. [i. p. 87]. 
 
 35 Rep. 9, 586, a. sq. [ii. p. 276, etc]. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 39 
 
 tilings of that kind, are carried, as it appears, to the below, and 
 back again to the middle ; and there they wander during life : 
 but as they never pass beyond this, they do not look towards 
 the true above, and are not carried to it ; nor are they ever 
 really filled with real being ; nor have they ever tasted solid 
 and pure pleasure ; but after the manner of brutes looking 
 always downwards, bowed towards earth and their tables, they 
 live feeding and coupling ; and from a lust for such things, 
 they kick and push at one another as with iron horns and 
 hoofs ; and perish through their own in satiety just like those 
 who are filling with unreal being, that which is no real being, 
 nor friendly to themselves.' 
 
 With this is connected the description of those in whom the 
 animal part of man is strengthened and becomes predominant, 
 while the divine, on the other hand, is stunted and subdued. 36 
 ' Let us form now the figure of a creature, various and many- 
 headed, having all around heads of tame creatures, and of wild, 
 •and having power in itself of changing all these heads, and of 
 breeding them out of itself. This is the work, said he, of a skil- 
 ful modeller ; however, as the formation is easier in reasoning 
 than in wax, and such like, let it be formed. Let there be 
 now one other figure of a lion, and one of a man ; but let the 
 first be by far the greatest, and the second be the second in 
 bulk. These are easy, said he, and they are formed. Unite 
 now these three in one, so that they may somehow co-exist. 
 They are united, said he. Form now around them the exter- 
 nal appearance of one of them, that of the man ; so that to one 
 who is not able to see what is within, but who perceives only 
 the external covering, the man may appear one creature. It is 
 formed all round, said he. Let us now tell him who asserts 
 that it is profitable for this man to do injustice, but to do justice 
 unprofitable, that he asserts nothing else, than that it is profit- 
 able for him to feast the multiform creature, and to make it 
 
 36 Rep. 9, 588, c. sq. [ii. p. 279]. 
 
40 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 strong ; and likewise the lion, and what respects the lion, whilst 
 the man he kills with famine, and renders weak so as to be 
 dragged whichever way either of those drag him ; and that he 
 will also find it advantageous never to accustom the one to live 
 in harmony with the other, nor to make them friends, but suffer 
 them to bite one another, and to fight and devour each other. 
 He, said he, who commends the doing of injustice undoubtedly 
 asserts these things. And does not he again, who says it is 
 advantageous to act justly, say that he ought to do and to say 
 such things by w T hich the inner man shall come to have the 
 most entire command of the man, and, as a tiller of the ground, 
 should -take care of the many-headed creature, cherishing the 
 mild ones, and nourishing them, and hindering the wild ones 
 from growing up, taking the nature of the lion as his ally, and, 
 having a common care for all, make them friendly to one 
 another, and to himself, and so nourish them % He who com- 
 mends justice undoubtedly says such things as these. In all 
 respects, then, he who commends justice would seem to speak 
 the truth, and he who discommends it speaks nothing genuine ; 
 nor does he discommend with understanding w T hat he discom- 
 mends. Not at all, said he, as appears to me at least. Let us 
 then in a mild manner persuade him (for it is not willingly he 
 errs), asking him, O blessed man ! Do we not say that the 
 maxims of things beautiful and base become so upon such ac- 
 counts as these ? Those are good wdiich make the brutal part 
 of our nature most subject to man, or rather perhaps to that 
 which is Divine, while those are evil which enslave the mild 
 part of oar nature to the brutal: — will he agree with us, — or 
 how ? He will, if he be advised by me, said he. Is there then 
 any one, said I, whom it avails, from this reasoning, to take 
 gold unjustly, supposing something of this kind to happen, if, 
 while taking the money, he at the same time subjects the best 
 part of himself to the worst ? Or, if taking gold, he should 
 enslave a son or daughter, and that even to savage or wicked 
 men, shall we not say this would not avail him, not though he 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 41 
 
 should receive for it a prodigious sum ? But if lie enslaves the 
 most divine part of himself to the most impious and most pol- 
 luted part, without any pity, is he not wretched ? And does 
 he not take a gift of gold to his far more dreadful ruin, than 
 Eriphyle did when she received the necklace for her husband's 
 life ? ' Manifestly herein lies the Christian thought : { What is 
 a man profited, if he gain the whole world, and lose his own 
 soul?' etc. (Matt. xvi. 26; Luke ix. 25). 
 
 How seductive injustice or sin is, in that it seems at the 
 same time to e: .sure advantage and pleasure, and to be able, by 
 cunning and various arts, to escape all punishment, is described 
 in an exceedingly lively manner in the 2d book of the Re- 
 public. 37 Here and there in this representation, one fancies 
 himself transported to the times of the Reformation, and listen- 
 ing to Luther's powerful polemics against monk- and priest- 
 craft ; for the account which Plato gives of the soothsayers 
 and hypocrites who travelled through the country, as well as of 
 their offerings and expiations, whereby they pretended to de- 
 liver the souls of the dead in suffering for their crimes from all 
 punishment and pain, might be applied perfectly well to the 
 quackish promises of the Indulgence-hawkers, and to the pre- 
 tensions of the Catholic priests, that by their masses for souls 
 they were able to liberate those who were doing penance in 
 purgatory. 
 
 Not less evangelical and Christian is the sense and purpose 
 of the parable, by which Plato seeks to set forth the necessity 
 and the difficulty of turning men from the pretence, which they 
 take for the truth, and of leading them to that which is alone 
 true. BS This passage deserves, in more than one respect, a 
 closer consideration : it is as follows : ' After this then, said I, 
 compare our nature as respects education, or the want thereof, 
 to a condition such as follows : — Behold men, as it were, in an 
 
 37 Rep. 2, 364, b. sq. [ii. p. 43]. Cf. Luther against the Indulgences. 
 Ed. Walch xviii. 534. sq. 
 
 33 Rep. 7, 514, a. sq. [ii. p. 202]. 
 
42 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 underground cave-like dwelling, having its entrance open to- 
 wards the light and extending through the whole cave, — and 
 within it persons, who, from childhood upwards, have had chains 
 on their legs and their necks, so as, while abiding there, to have 
 the power of looking forward only, but not to turn round their 
 heads by reason of their chains, their light coming from a fire 
 that burns above and afar off, and behind them ; and between 
 the fire and these in chains is a road above, along which one 
 may see a little wall built, just as the stages of conjurers 
 are built before the people in whose presence they show their 
 tricks. I see, said he. Behold then, by the side of this little wall, 
 men carrying all sorts of machines rising above the wall, and 
 statues of men and other animals wrought in stone, wood, and 
 other materials, 39 some of the bearers probably speaking, others 
 proceeding in silence. You are proposing, said he, a most 
 absurd comparison and absurd captives also. Such as resemble 
 ourselves, said I ; — for think you that such as these would have 
 seen anything else of themselves or one another except the 
 shadows that fall from the fire on the opposite side of the cave ? 
 How can they, said he, if indeed they be through life com- 
 pelled to keep their heads unmoved ! But w T hat respecting the 
 things carried by them : — is not this the same ? Of course. 
 If then they had been able to talk with each other, do you not 
 suppose they would think it right to give names to what they 
 saw before them ! Of course they would. But if the prison 
 had an echo on its opposite side, when any person present were 
 to speak, think you they would imagine anything else addressed 
 to them, except the shadow before them ? No, by Zeus, not I, 
 ■ said he. At all events then, said I, such persons would deem 
 truth to be nothing else but the shadows of exhibitions. Of 
 course they would. Let us inquire then, said I, as to their 
 liberation from captivity and their cure from insanity, such as 
 it may be, and whether such will naturally fall to their lot : — 
 
 39 Cf. Rep. 5, 476. b. eq. [ii. p. 163]. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 43 
 
 were a person let loose and obliged immediately to rise up, 
 and turn round his neck and walk, and look upwards to the 
 light, and doing all this, still feel pained, and be disabled by the 
 dazzling, from seeing those things, of which he formerly saw 
 the shadows : — what would he say, think you, if any one were 
 to tell him, that he formerly saw mere empty visions, but now 
 saw more correctly, as being nearer to the real thing, and 
 turned towards what was more real, and then, specially pointing 
 out to him every individual passing thing, should question him, 
 and oblige him to answer respecting its nature : — think you not 
 he would be embarrassed, and consider that what he before saw 
 was truer than wdiat was just exhibited? Quite so, said he. 
 Therefore, even if a person should compel him to look to the light 
 itself, would he not have pain in his eyes and shun it, and then, 
 turning to what he really could behold, reckon these as really 
 more clear than what had been previously pointed out ? Just 
 so, replied he. But if, said I, a person should forcibly drag him 
 thence through a rugged and steep ascent without stopping, till 
 he dragged him to the light of the sun, would he not while thus 
 drawn be in pain and indignation, and when he came to the 
 light, having his eyes dazzled with the splendour, be unable to 
 behold even any one thing of what he had just alleged as true ? 
 No, he could not, at the moment at least, said he. He would 
 require, at least then, to get some degree of practice, if he 
 would see things above him : — and first, indeed, he would most 
 easily perceive the shadows, and then the images of men and 
 other animals in the water, and after that the things themselves ; 
 — and after this he would more easily behold the things in 
 heaven, and heaven itself, by night, looking to the light of the 
 stars and the moon, than after daylight to the sun and the light 
 of the sun. How else ? Last of all, then, methinks, he might 
 be able to perceive and contemplate the nature of the sun, not 
 as respects its images in water or any other place, but itself by 
 itself in its own proper station. What then, when a man re- 
 members his first habitation and the wisdom therein residing, 
 
44 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 and his fellow-captives also, — think you not, that he would con- 
 gratulate himself on the change and pity the rest ? And con- 
 sider this, said I, whether in the case of such an one going 
 down and again sitting in the same place, his eyes would not be 
 blinded in consequence of coming so suddenly from the sun % 
 As for those shadows again, if he were compelled to split straws, 
 and dispute about them with those persons who had been in 
 constant captivity, while yet he was in darkness before the 
 establishment of his sight (and his time of getting habituated 
 would not be short), would he not excite ridicule ; and would it 
 not be said of him, that after having once ascended, he had 
 come back with his eye-sight destroyed, and should not even try 
 to ascend again ; and as for any one that attempted to liberate 
 him and lead him up, they ought to put him to death if they 
 could get him into their hands % ' To whom, in connection with 
 this passage, do not occur those texts of the Bible which speak 
 of the light of life, which shines into the darkness, but the 
 darkness comprehends it not % and of the opening of the 
 eyes, that men may turn from the darkness to the marvellous 
 light of the Lord ? John i. 8, iii. 19, viii. 12, xii. 46; Acts xxvi. 
 18, etc. 
 
 But the resemblance between Plato and the Bible is not con- 
 fined to single passages and thoughts, it is also manifest, and 
 this very generally, in their dogmatic and ethical systems. And 
 it is this side of Plato's philosophy in particular, which has been 
 treated of with a certain degree of completeness by some of the 
 theologians mentioned in the first chapter. Here we can call 
 attention only to the most important and striking relations be- 
 tween the Platonic and Christian systems. 
 
 As regards Plato's theology, it approximates very closely to 
 the Christian theology, in the doctrines of the Existence, 
 Essence, Name, Attributes, and Works of God ; in the etlrical 
 part of his philosophical views, the homogeneousness with the 
 Christian is often surprizingly manifest with respect to the 
 doctrines of the nature and worth of the soul, the nature and 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 45 
 
 agency of sin, the nobility and nature of virtue, and of future 
 existence and retribution after death. 
 
 A formal proof of the Divine existence the Bible does indeed 
 nowhere institute; for good reasons, which unfortunately, so 
 many teachers of religion and authors of books of religious in- 
 struction seem still unable to comprehend ; but yet it indicates 
 frequently and distinctly the data from which Christian theology 
 (and for the completeness of its apparatus such demonstrations 
 are certainly necessary) has since constructed its cosmological 
 proof. (Heb. iii. 4. ' For every house is builded by some one, 
 but He that built all things is God.' Ps. xix. 2, sq. civ. 2, sq. ; 
 Bom. i. 19, etc.). So Plato derives his principal reasons for 
 conviction of the divine existence, from nature, and its regula- 
 tion according to laws, and he especially concludes, from the con- 
 stant mobility of nature, the necessity of an originating, moving, 
 principle; 40 as in general, the idea of motion is of great significance 
 in his philosophy. We should err, however, if we attributed the 
 Platonic argumentation to any other than a popular aim and 
 custom ; Plato's belief in God rested no less than that of the 
 biblical writers, on an intuitive certainty of His existence. 
 
 Plato also no more gives a definition of the Divine nature 
 than does the Bible ; for, according to him, we can only know 
 the Divine essence by w T ay of approximation and comparison. 41 
 The highest conceptions are, according to Plato, those of Exist- 
 ence and the Good ; but even these are inadequate for the con- 
 ception of the Godhead ; the proper essence of God, as he 
 expressly remarks, 42 lies still beyond them. Yet we come nearest 
 
 40 Legg. 10. 893, b. sq. [v. p. 421-2]. Aristotle argues in a very similar 
 manner, Phys. 7. 1. Met. 11. 6. etc. — cf. the beautiful passage in Cicero. 
 N. D. 2, 2, 9. 21, and especially Qu. Tusc. 1. 28. 
 
 41 The principal passage on the difficulty of knowing God is Tim. 28, 
 c. [ii. p. 332]. No passage was so frequently cited. by the church fathers, 
 now with praise and now with censure, according as they understood it. 
 (Cf. Exod. xxxiii. 20 ; John i. 18 ; 1 Tim. vi. 16, and Exod. xxxiii. 11 ; 
 Numb. xii. 8, etc.] 
 
 42 Rep. 6, 509, b. [ii. p. 198.] So also it is said, Phileb. 22, c. [iv. p. 27] 
 
46 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 the conception of the Godhead when we rightly apprehend the 
 idea of the Good; 43 and if one wonld lay an intuition by the 
 senses as the basis of a living comprehension of this, let him 
 only behold the sun; the sun is the son and image of the 
 Good. 44 In like manner, say the Scriptures, ' God is love' 
 (1 John iv. 16), and 'the Father of lights' (Jas. i. 17). As 
 Eitter justly remarks, would that Plato's pupils and the later 
 Platonists had only remained true to their great master in this 
 respect, and had imitated his wise abstinence from any attempt 
 to discover the idea of God or goodness in its supra-substantial 
 or supra-scientific unity ! Believing that philosophy could and 
 should proceed further on this point, they fell into many errors 
 and extravagances. But although Plato renounced the idea of 
 attaining and establishing an exhaustive scientific conception of 
 God, yet he did not therefore consider the Deity a subject in 
 nowise appertaining to philosophy, and to be entirely separated 
 from science, as such. On the contrary, the Deity was really 
 the starting-point and the goal of his philosophy ; and it was 
 not merely the pious disposition of Plato which led him to this, 
 but also, and much more, the severely scientific spirit of his 
 entire thinking. Science, in the true sense of the word, was 
 to him inconceivable without the idea of the Godhead. The 
 clear conception in the mind of this idea, he considered the 
 basis and condition as well as the summit and perfection of all 
 time knowing. Hence, also, he denominated Deity the Begin- 
 ning and the End, and the Measure of all things. 45 His pupil 
 
 that the expression vovg is not wholly appropriate to the Godhead. Cf . Cic. 
 Tusc. i. 27. Aristot. Met. 12, 8. 
 
 43 Eep. 7, 517, b. [ii. p. 205.] 
 
 44 Rep. 6, 506, e, 508, b [ii. pp. 195, 197]. Could Plato indicate the 
 so-called extra- and supra-mundaneity of God, or His essential difference 
 from the universe, more strongly and distinctly than he has done in these 
 passages ? Justin, indeed (Coh. ad. Gr. 10, d.), maintains that Plato attri- 
 buted materiality to the Godhead, and held it to be a fiery substance ; but 
 in this he is plainly in error, as it is now generally acknowledged. 
 
 45 Legg. 4, 715, e, 716, e [v. pp. 139, 140]. It was especially an 
 axiom of Protagoras, that man is the measure of things. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 47 
 
 Aristotle also, though less theologically disposed than he, made 
 theology the highest and most important branch of all philoso- 
 phical inquiry. 46 
 
 To the nature of God pertains his (numerical and meta- /$ 
 physical) unity. That Plato was a Monotheist, and spoke of \ /> 
 gods (in the plural) only in accommodation to the then reigning 
 use of language, scarcely admits of a doubt. The most striking ^ 
 
 passages in proof of the acquaintance of heathen antiquity with 
 Monotheism, have, for the most part, been long since and fre- 
 quently brought forward ; and it would be easy to show, if this 
 were the place for it, that the expression gods is frequently taken 
 now in a sense quite different from that in which it was under- 
 stood at the time. This was pointed out even by Augustine ; 47 
 and the church fathers generally, with the exception of a few 
 fanatics, made no hesitation in declaring the educated heathens 
 to be Monotheists. It is true, they supposed the heathen Mono- 
 theism to have been derived from a source, namely, the Bible, 
 from which it could not have come, at least so immediately as 
 they imagined. 
 
 It is a circumstance of great weight in favour of Plato's 
 Monotheism, that he declares Monarchy to be the best, most per- 
 fect, and most rational form of political life. 48 For, in Plato's 
 view, the state is a microcosm, a type and copy of the great uni- 
 verse ordered and ruled by God. But Plato also, in several 
 passages of his works, speaks unambiguously enough of the unity 
 of the Divine nature ; 49 and, in particular, sets forth clearly the 
 essential difference between the One, eternal, true God, and the 
 
 46 God is the ground of all existence. Hence the first philosophy- 
 was called theology. Arist. Met. 6, 1 ; 11, 7. Cf. Enseb. Praep. Ev. 11, 
 3sq. 
 
 47 Aug. Civ. Dei. 4, 24. 31. Cf. lb. 9, 23. 
 
 48 Polit. 302, e. [iii. p. 264]. For in Plato scarcely a single expression 
 is single and isolated. All have the closest reference to each other and the 
 whole. 
 
 49 Polit. 270, a. [iii. p. 211]. Tim. 31, a [ii. p. 335]. Cf. Euseb. 
 Praep. Ev. 11, 13. Athen. leg. p. 284, b. c. 
 
48 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 subordinate deities (intermediate between God and men), His 
 assistants in the work of creation. 50 
 
 In the names which Plato gives to the Godhead, he fre- 
 quently coincides with biblical expressions. He frequently calls 
 God, Father, 51 Father of the universe, Father of the gods ; and 
 it was in part this name, but still more the frequently recurring 
 expressions, vovs and \6yos, whereby Plato designates the spiri- 
 tual nature and activity of the Deity, which gave rise to the 
 unfounded opinion of the church fathers, that the Platonic 
 theology contained the first lines of the Christian doctrine of 
 the Trinity. 52 The name Creator also, which Plato frequently 
 uses, 53 has been often misunderstood and taken in a more Chris- 
 tian sense than is warranted by the Platonic mode of think- 
 ing concerning God and the world. A somewhat more correct 
 supposition is, that the idea which lies at the base of the sig- 
 nificant name Jehovah, is expressed in the predicate of sole, 
 uncreated, self -existence, which Plato attributes to the Supreme 
 Being. 54 The Platonic titles, King, Ruler, Governor of the 
 
 60 Tim. 28, a. 34, a. 39, d. sq. 41, a. etc. [ii. pp. 332, 338, 342, 345]. 
 It cannot moreover be denied, that Plato did not keep his theology quite 
 pure from admixture of the physical and spiritual. In his views of the stars, 
 all sorts of old natural-philosophical views recur ; and that his demonology 
 was closely" connected with the Egyptian, scarcely admits of a doubt. A new 
 and thorough handling of the heathen demonology is urgently needed, even 
 for New Testament exegesis. Cf . on other points of Plato's theology. Crat. 
 397, d. [lii. p. 309]. Legg. 10, 899, a. sq. 904, e. 909, e. [v. pp. 431, 442, 
 453]. Epin. 984, e. 977, a. 985, b. etc. [vi. pp. 22, 9, 23]. 
 
 51 Tim. 28, c. 37, c. 41. a. etc. [ii. pp. 332, 340, 345]. 
 
 52 Tim. 29, a. 47, e. [ii. pp. 333, 353]. Phil. 30, c, d. [iv. p. 41-2]. 
 Epin. 986, e. etc. [vi. p. 26]. Eusebius (Praep. Ev. 11, 14. 20) maintains 
 most decidedly that the Christian Trinity is intimated in Plato, Augustine 
 more qualifLedly. Civ. Dei. 10, 29. Cf. Just. Apol. 1, p. 79, b. Clem. 
 Al. Strom. 5, 436, d. Or. de princip. 1, 3, etc. The Fathers rest their view 
 mainly on the mysterious passages in the Epp. 2, 312, e. Cf. 6, 323, d. 
 [iv. pp. 482, 497]. 
 
 55 Tim. 28, c. 41, a. [ii. pp. 332, 345]. Soph. 265, b. c. [iii. p. 180]. 
 54 Tim. 37, e. 27, d. [ii. pp. 341, 332]. Cf. Exod. 3, 14, and Euseb. 
 Prsep. Ev. 11, 9. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 49 
 
 World, 55 etc., seem, however, to accord most with the Christian 
 names of God ; but, we must not forget here, that even the 
 Platonic idea of God had not entirely freed itself from that op- 
 pressive restriction 56 which, as Absolute Necessity or Iron Fate, 
 exercised a destructive influence on the entire belief of heathen 
 antiquity in the Divine existence ; although Plato, in this respect 
 also had struggled up to a greater elevation than any other heathen. 
 There is no slight resemblance between the biblical and 
 Platonic theology with respect to the Divine attributes. They 
 are nearly the same, except that Plato does not seem to mention 
 the Divine Omnipresence and Holiness. God is eternal, 51 i.e., 
 according to Plato, without beginning and end, above and be- 
 yond all Becoming ; all relation to time and space, all that 
 is sensuous and successive is expressly denied to Him. He is 
 the cause and source of all motion, 58 and all life, eternally 
 moving Himself. 59 With supreme Power, He unites supreme 
 Wisdom; His almighty will holds together the universe, which 
 He has ordered in the wisest manner. 60 He is not merely 
 
 55 Legg. 10, 904. a. Oat, 396. a. [v. p. 441-2, iii. p. 307]. 
 
 56 Cf. the passages Tim. 68. d, e. Polit. 270. a. sq. [ii. p. 379, iii. p. 
 211], and especially Epin. 982. b. [vi. p. 19]. 
 
 57 The principal passage is Tim. 27, d. Cf. lb. 38, a. 52, a. [ii. pp. 332, 
 341, 358]. 
 
 58 Tim. 34. e. sq. [ii. p. 338]. Legg. 10, 894. c. [v. p. 421]. 
 
 59 "With Aristotle, on the other hand, the unmoved causality of all move- 
 ments is the chief conception of the Divine nature. Met. 12. 7 ; 14, 8. 
 
 60 Tim. 68. d. [ii. p. 379]. Power and wisdom united with goodness, 
 Legg. 10, 902. c. [v. p. 439]. The Plat, conception of Divine omnipotence 
 is learned principally from Tim. 32, c. 33. a. [ii. p. 336]. God has bound 
 all matter and all forces in one unity dissoluble only by Himself ; the crea- 
 tive power, therefore, goes forth without resting, into the work of creation, 
 but without being thereby exhausted, since the sum of all things remains 
 included in and dependent on the willing-power of its author. Plato did 
 not and could not have the conception of an unlimited omnipotence, as even 
 Galen remarked. De us. part. 12, 14. Cf. besides on the Plat, doctrine of 
 omnipotence, Tim. 41. a. [ii. p. 345], where the important intimation is 
 given, that the mighty will of God is no less manifest in the preservation 
 than in the creation of the world. 
 
 4 
 
50 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 wise, 61 He is Omniscient, nothing escapes Him, nothing re- 
 mains hidden from Him ; 62 while He surveys the whole, 
 He sees also every individual. With the most perfect insight, 
 which He possesses, is connected His integrity and veracity ; 
 He is a God of truth, who hates falsehood, and to whom 
 all desire of deception and shifting pretence remains eternally 
 strange. 63 He is both just and benevolent. 64 He allows 
 no wickedness to go unpunished, no virtue unrewarded. 6 ' 5 
 His peculiar nature consists in His benevolence, which desires 
 the welfare of All, does good to All, and is never the cause of 
 evil ; 66 and since true and eternal Goodness ever has in itself 
 complete sufficiency, the purest happiness must ever dwell with 
 the Godhead. 67 This attribute of blessedness excludes not only 
 all pain and longing, but also every affection and passion. In 
 this Plato's theological terminology differs from that of the 
 Bible. The Bible does not avoid speaking of a divine re- 
 pentance, anger, 68 etc. ; but Plato will nowhere tolerate such 
 conceptions and expressions, conceiving them unworthy of the 
 Godhead and injurious to true piety ; and their frequent oc- 
 currence in the poets was one of the chief reasons of his severity 
 towards this class of persons. 69 The reverence and adoration 
 of God which Plato requires, corresponds with the worthy con- 
 ception which he had formed of the Godhead. He requires, we 
 might say, a worship of God in spirit and in truth (John iv. 24) ; 
 that is, with pious feeling and upright conduct. God is not 
 
 61 Phaedr. 278. d. [i. p. 359]. Parm. 134. c. [iii. p. 415], etc. 
 
 62 Legg. 10, 901. d. [v. p. 438]. Ps. xciv. 6. 
 
 63 Rep. 2, 382. e. [ii. p. 64]. Cf. Eom. xv. 8 ; Tit. i. 2 ; Heb. vi. 18; 
 Deut. xxxii. 4 ; Jer. x. 10, etc. 
 
 64 Phaed. 80. d. Prot. 344, c. [i. pp. 83, 274]. Cf. Luke xviii. 19. 
 
 65 Legg. 4, 716. a. 6, 757. b. [v. pp. 139, 200]. 
 
 66 Rep. 2, 379. c. [ii. p. 60], etc. Cf. James i. 13, 17. 
 
 67 Phil. 20. d. 33. b. [iv. pp. 23, 47]. Phaed. 247. a. [i. p. 323], etc. 
 
 68 Gen. vi. 6 5 2 Sam. xxiv. 16 *, Jer. xviii. 8, 10; Exod. xxii. 24 ; John 
 iii. 36, etc. 
 
 69 Rep. 2, 380. a. sq. [ii. p. 61]. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 51 
 
 honoured by ceremonies, prayers, and sacrifices, 70 the profligate 
 may offer these without being able to bribe God with them, or 
 to obtain His favour by flattery ; but by an earnest striving after 
 virtue, and by pure and deep piety. 71 When we pray, we must 
 never forget that God knows what is for our peace better than 
 we do ; and hence, we must always leave it to His wisdom what, 
 as the best for us, He will grant or deny. 
 
 The teaching of Plato concerning the works of God affords 
 many points of comparison with Christian doctrine ; fewer, how- 
 ever, with reference particularly to the Creation, 72 than to the 
 preservation and government of the world. It has been often 
 but incorrectly supposed, that the dogma of Creation out of 
 nothing is to be found in Plato. The principal occasion for this 
 error was given by the well-known Platonic formula of the 
 c non-existent,' whereby he designated everything material, to 
 which he allowed a constantly changeable becoming, but no real 
 being. On the other hand, however, those have gone too far 
 who attribute to Plato the crude thought that matter is equally 
 eternal with God, and, as it were, opposite to Him. Plato holds 
 firmly, with almost all philosophers, both that the world exists 
 by God, and that the existence of God cannot be conceived of 
 without the existence of the world. Since the world is the work 
 of God, a Being without envy and most perfect, it must also 
 necessarily possess perfect beauty and order; it is the success- 
 ful copy of the most glorious original in the Divine Mind ; 73 
 Plato expresses himself just as does Moses, concerning the sublime . 
 satisfaction with which the Creator beholds His completed work. 74 
 
 70 Rep. 2, 364. c. sq. [ii. p. 43]. Ale. 2, 149. e. sq. [iv. p. 395-6]. 
 Cf. Isa. i. 11, 16 ; Ps. 1. 8, sq. ; Mic. vi. 6, etc. 
 
 71 Euthyphr. 7. a. sq. 8, d. 12. e. sq. [i. pp. 464, 466, 471]. Cf. Luke 
 i. 75 ; Acts ii. 27 ; 1 Tim. ii. 8, etc. 
 
 72 Eusebius (Praep. Ev. 11, 29) especially maintains the agreement cf 
 the Christian and Platonic doctrines concerning the creation of the world, and 
 bases this agreement principally on Tim. 28. c. [ii. p. 332]. Cf, Heb. iii. 4. 
 
 73 Tim. 92. c. [ii. p. 409]. Cf. Phil. 28, c, d. etc. [iv. p. 38]. 
 
 74 Tim. 37. c. [ii. p. 340]. Gen. i. 31. 
 
52 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 In the world itself, since it is a divine and perfect image, there 
 is no ground for its destruction or annihilation; 75 though such 
 might be conceived of as proceeding from God, for only the 
 original author of this harmonious connection of all parts in one 
 great whole, could dissolve it again. But what should move 
 Him to this ? He is, by virtue of His wisdom and goodness, too 
 much a friend of all that is beautiful and excellent not to desire 
 the eternal continuance of His work. But God does not merely 
 preserve the world, He regulates and governs it also. An all- 
 comprehending Providence 76 disposes and watches over the 
 universe ; it knows no difference between great and small ; even 
 that which is apparently the smallest is not too minute and 
 worthless in its view, and it cares not less for this than for the 
 great and the whole. 77 The existence of moral and natural evil 
 in the world proves nothing against the Divine Providence and 
 Goodness ; 78 for the most of so-called evils dissolve on closer ex- 
 
 75 Tim. 33. a. 38. c. [ii.'pp. 336, 341]. Plato taught, in opposition to 
 other and subsequent opinions, that there is only one world. Cf . particularly 
 Plutarch de orac. dei p. 423, sq. and Orig. de princip. 2, 3. The chief 
 ground for the imperishability of the world lies, according to Plato, in the 
 mundane soul, as its immortal principle. It was Plato's thorough convic- 
 tion, not only that every soul exists prior to the body, but also that this 
 body is its image and product. Wholly divergent as this doctrine appears 
 from the Christian view of the world, there is yet one point which approxi- 
 mates to it. The Platonic mundane soul takes the place of the Christian 
 omnipresence of God. This conception insinuated itself, moreover, into the 
 Christian church. Baumgarten-Crusius, D. G. 915. 
 
 76 Trpovoia, Tim. 30. b. [ii. p. 334] (Wisdom 12, 13) introduced mainly 
 by Plato into religious use. Yet Cf. Herod, 3, 202. Phaed. 62, b. [i. p. 
 59]. Cf. Legg. 4, 709, b. [v. p. 128]. Not dhoyov lvuoc t uis rules the world, 
 but Qpouyois: Phil. 28. d. sq. [iv. p. 38]. 
 
 77 Legg. 10, 900. c. [v. p. 434]. Cf. Matt. x. 30. 
 
 78 The chief passages concerning Plato's doctrine of Moral Evil are Tim. 
 47. d, e. 69. a. sq. [ii. pp. 353, 379]. Polit. 268, e. 269, b. 273, d. [iii. pp. 
 208, 209, 217]. Legg. 10, 896. e. 903, b. [v. pp. 426, 440. Plato desig- 
 nates matter the seat of evil ; it comes neither from God, nor is in Being, 
 for true Being is as such also the Good (Cf . August. Conf . 7, 18. 19) but it 
 unfolds itself in the Becoming, and inheres, as a necessary limitation, in the 
 creature. Similarly Leibnitz in his Theodicee. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 53 
 
 animation into mere seeming ; and the bad will no more trouble 
 or mislead him, who has raised himself to the heights of true 
 perception, and from thence has comprehended its necessity and 
 inevitableness, as well as its beneficial agency in enhancing and 
 involuntarily promoting the good. 79 
 
 With the consideration of the Platonic theology is intimately 
 connected the question : Whence did Plato obtain his insight 
 into the Divine existence and works ? Was it purely from him- 
 self and his own reason ? This he nowhere says, but rather the 
 contrary. All religious convictions he traces back to a double 
 origin, — tradition, and life with God. Whenever he lays down */ 
 a doctrine of faith, he refers either to ancient, sacred traditions, 80 
 — which he speaks of with reverence as authentic sources of theo- 
 logy, — or he derives it from the ante-temporal existence of the 
 soul, when the soul, being with God, knew intuitively the True 
 and Eternal. 81 What the prophets of the Old Testament are 
 to the Apostles and Evangelists, that the ancient inspired singers 
 are to Plato 3 he quotes them often in his writings, 82 and lays 
 the same weight on such sayings of the poets and oracles as, in 
 the New Testament, is laid on Moses and the prophets. It is 
 well known how fond he is of using myths for clothing his 
 religious ideas ; to him, however, the mythical and the fictitious 
 are by no means synonymous terms. He frequently assures us, 
 with entire earnestness, that the contents of this or that myth 
 are the deepest and purest truth. 83 We must not then at all 
 suppose in Plato an a priori production and construing of re- 
 ligious perceptions. Far from yielding up any of the granted 
 
 79 Legg. 10, 906. a. sq. [v. p. 445]. Theaet. 176. a. sq. [i. p. 411]. 
 Rep. 10, 613. a. [ii. p. 304]. 
 
 80 Legg. 4, 715. [v. p. 139]. Phaed. 70. c. [i. p. 69]. Conv. 177. a. 
 [iii. 483]. Tim. 29. d. [ii. p. 333], etc. So also Aristotle (e.g. De coelo. 
 6). 
 
 81 Principal passage, Phaedr. 247. d. sq. [i. p. 323]. 
 
 82 Rep. 2, 366. b. Tim. 40. e. [ii. pp. 46, 345]. Cf. Men. 81. b. [iii. p. 
 19]. Phil. 16. c. [iv. p. 14]. 
 
 83 Gorg. 523. a. [i. p. 227], etc. 
 
54 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 and positive value of religious truth, he reflects on it constantly 
 and diligently. The material part of religion is to him some- 
 thing objective throughout, arising from without and from above, 
 namely, from life and history, and from God and His eternal, 
 invisible world. In accordance with this, we cannot refuse to 
 place Plato, in this respect also, by the side of the biblical authors 
 and Christian theologians, in that he founds his theology, not on 
 the subjectivity of individual thinking, but on the objectivity of 
 the Divine existence and operation, as presented to the per- 
 ceptive faculty, or in revelation, There are three things princi- 
 pally in the consideration of his theology, which involuntarily 
 call forth this thought : (1.) The position and significance of the 
 idea of God in his philosophy ; since he not only makes the whole 
 of human knowledge, and all truth in general, dependent on this, 
 and maintains that all knowledge springs from the original 
 source of wisdom, 84 but desires to have the eternal existence of 
 this idea recognised and comprehended in its living fulness and 
 absolute sublimity, thus entirely otherwise than, e.g. by Aristotle, 
 with whom the Godhead receives the highest place, not so much 
 for His own sake, as rather in consequence of and as required by 
 scientific thinking : (2.) The demonstrable connection of the Pla- 
 tonic religious doctrines with the original stock of the religions of 
 antiquity ; since, when we inquire into the origin of this or that 
 religious idea of Plato, it is assigned not to his subjective thinking 
 as wholly independent of his predecessors, but just the reverse, 
 to the communications and influences of the past ; and however 
 far we pursue this inquiry, we never come to a single subjective 
 mind as the originator of such views, but to the general spirit 
 of the world's history, whether this be regarded as, so to speak, 
 a spiritual atmosphere, breathed by nations and individuals, or 
 as an original revelation : (3.) The elements, which are mani- 
 fest in Plato's writings, of a kind of theory of inspiration ; since 
 Plato not only speaks often and willingly of the original heavenly 
 
 84 Eep. 6, 505. a. 508, e. 7, 517. be 532, a. [ii. pp. 193, 198, 205, 222]. 
 Phaed. 97. c. [i. p. 103], etc. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 55 
 
 light, 85 and its beams which enlighten the spirit of men, bnt also 
 repeatedly and directly maintains that God discloses and vouch- 
 safes the highest ideas only to the highest inspiration. 86 From 
 these intimations it will be easy to conclude how near or how 
 remote Plato's belief in a revelation is from the Christian faith 
 in these three particulars. 
 
 Plato based the ethical part of his teaching, like a true 
 follower of Socrates, on Psychology. For Socrates held com- 
 pliance with that solemn exhortation : know thyself ! to be the 
 chief task of human life. 87 
 
 The Scriptures render prominent a certain threefold division 
 of human nature ; they distinguish between mind, soul, and 
 flesh, or sense. We may compare this biblical trichotomy with 
 that of Plato. He also considers the nature of man as con- 
 sisting of a purely spiritual and a purely sensuous vital prin- 
 ciple ; and the two are connected together by a mediating soul- 
 life, 88 as he generally, when he meets with antagonisms in nature 
 and mind, designates ideas or powers which are adapted to 
 undertake the office of mediator.^ But the comparison between 
 the Platonic and biblical trichotomy must not be extended too 
 far, if it is to remain allowable or practicable. It is certain 
 that Plato, like the Bible, declares decidedly against all ma- 
 terialism. 89 In his writings also, as in those of the Bible, the 
 
 85 Rep. 6, 507. e. sq. [ii. p. 197]. 
 
 86 Phil. 63. e. [iv. p. 103]. Phaedr. 244, a. sq. [i. p. 319]. Men. 99. 
 d. [iii. p. 47], etc. An apparent depreciation of inspiration, Tim. 71. e. 86, 
 b. [ii. pp. 383, 402], But Plato distinguishes a higher and an inferior 
 mania. Phaedr. 265. a, b. [i. p. 343-4]. (The well-known passage Tim. 
 72. a. sq. [ii. p. 384] has been frequently used to explain 1 Cor. xiv. 3, sq. 
 An unrnistakeable Platonic thought is expressed in 2 Pet. i. 19). 
 
 87 Patricius and others make the dialogue Alcib. 1, the foundation of 
 all the rest, because it treats of self-knowledge. 
 
 88 Tim. 69. c. sq. 72. d. sq. Rep. 4, 431. d. sq. 435. b. sq. [ii. pp. 
 380, 384; 115, 119]. The irrational or sensuous soul has two principal 
 faculties, the irascible or combative, and the covetous. The higher part of 
 the soul is designated the rational part. 
 
 89 See the beautiful passage, Soph. 246. d. sq. [iii. p. 149]. 
 
56 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 opposition is everywhere prominent between the visible and the 
 invisible, the sensuous and the spiritual, the temporal and the 
 eternal ; 90 and he ever subordinates the former to the latter, 
 and attributes to this the higher rank and value, 91 but desires, 
 as little as the Bible, a complete extirpation and annihilation of 
 the other. For even the sensuous in the Platonic and Chris- 
 tian view, has value and significance, when it is restricted 
 within its proper limits, and does not attain the preponderance. 
 Plato, like Christ, loves to unite the higher to the lower, and 
 to rise in his dialogues and inquiries from the sensuous to the 
 spiritual. 92 
 
 The soul of man, according to the Platonic and Christian 
 doctrine, is in its nature different throughout from the sensuous 
 and material ; it belongs to the higher kingdom of spiritual 
 and eternal entities. 93 In his view r of the absolutely eternal life 
 of the soul, its pre-existence, its transmigration after the death 
 of the body, etc., 94 Plato, indeed, diverges widely from the ex- 
 pressions and intimations of the Scriptures ; but when he calls 
 the body a grave of the soul, 95 when he traces the soul's condi- 
 tion of being sunk in the body to its own fault, and represents 
 this as a kind of apostacy, he furnishes herein points of analogy 
 
 90 Phaed. 79. a. sq. [i. p. 81]. Cf. Polit. 285. e. sq. [iii. p. 235]. 
 Tim. 52. a. [ii. p. 358], etc. 
 
 91 Legg. 5. 727. d. sq. [v. p. 154]. Cf. Matt. vi. 19, 25, sq. 
 
 92 See ex. gr. Conv. 210. a. sq. [iii. p. 550]. 
 
 93 According to Plato, the soul belongs to the class of Ideas, i.e., of 
 things truly existent. Phaed. 77. a. [i. p. 78-9]. He assumes also, a 
 fixed number of souls, which can be neither increased nor diminished, Eep. 
 10, 611. a. [ii. p. 301]. This eternity of the soul in and of itself was ex- 
 ceedingly offensive to the church fathers : Souls, said they, are not im- 
 mortal by birth, but by the grace of God. Just., Dial. c. Tryph. 107. b. 
 But especially Arnob. adv. G. 2, 14-19. 
 
 94 The transmigration of souls is founded, in the case of Plato as in 
 that of the Jews, on the conviction of the necessity of an expiation and 
 purification of the soul, which has become material by sensual lusts. 
 Phaed. 81. c. sq. [i. p. 84]. Tim. 42. b. c. [ii. p. 346-7]. 
 
 96 Crat, 400. c. [iii. p. 315]. Gorg. 492. e. [i. p. 191]. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 57 
 
 to the expressions and descriptions of the Bible ; and thus, when 
 an intimation of the Fall had been found in his writings, it was 
 not difficult for the Christian friends of Plato to discover and 
 call attention to a Paradise there also. 96 
 
 Of the worth of the soul-life Plato speaks unquestionably 
 in a biblical and Christian manner. He, like the Gospel, 
 designates care for the salvation of the soul the highest and 
 most important of human concerns. And he renders it as 
 expressly prominent as does the Bible, that this care is so 
 much the more necessaiy, the greater and more various are the 
 dangers which threaten the soul-life from the world, and the 
 sin reigning therein. 97 
 
 It has been often maintained and also disputed, that Chris- 
 tianity can only be rightly comprehended on the basis of a true 
 conception of sin ; because, by regarding the nature and work- 
 ing of sin, both the necessity of Christianity and its value and 
 purpose will be correctly recognized. However this may be, 
 this is certain, no book in the world speaks so much of sin as 
 the Bible, and nowhere, on the whole, is it spoken of so little as 
 in the heathen authors. 98 In this regard Plato is an exception. 
 A tolerably complete doctrinal statement might be gathered 
 from his works of the origin, nature, and effects of sin, and 
 his doctrine appears to diverge but little from the Chris- 
 tian. 
 
 Sin or wickedness consists in deviation from the Divine 
 law, 99 in disobedience to the higher and better, to the rational 
 
 96 Euseb. Praep. Ev. 12, 11. Plat. Conv. 203. b. [iii. p. 534]. 
 
 97 See the excellent passage on the corrupting influence of the world. 
 Rep. 6, 492. a. sq. [ii. p. 178-9]. Cf. Ale. 1, 132. a. [iv. p. 364]. 
 
 98 The heathen sacrificial worship springs by no means exclusively or 
 chiefly from a feeling of sin. That the Christian doctrine of sin was en- 
 tirely strange to classic heathendom is clearly evinced by its violent and 
 sarcastic polemics against ' the poor sin-religion.' See e. g. Orig. c. Cels. 
 3. p. 486. sq. (Ed. Delar). 
 
 99 The fundamental idea of u, k u,a.proi.vuu among the heathen is physical, 
 viz., to leave the right direction, to miss a mark, to make a failure ; then 
 metaphysical, to wander ; hence u.y.a.pricx, — error (of the understanding). See 
 
58 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 spirit, and in renouncing the more noble in favour of the low 
 and base. There are scarcely any traces in him and some 
 other classic authors, 100 that they accept the doctrine of innate 
 depravity ; on the contrary, the goodness of human nature was 
 a prevalent presupposition of heathen antiquity. Plato desig- 
 nates as chief sources of sin and crimes, in the Gospel sense, 
 bad education, 101 riches and luxury, 102 error and lack of judg- 
 ment, which is blinded by appearances, and confounds the 
 agreeable with the good, 10 ' 3 self-love and selfishness, 104 seduc- 
 tion and bad company, unbelief, pride, and godlessness. 105 It 
 is to his honour that he has fully recognized and clearly ex- 
 pressed the close connection between unbelief and immorality. 
 The effects of sin he considers as afflictive as corrupting ; for he 
 says, that sin renders the soul sick and ugly, 106 and reduces it 
 
 especially Arist. Eth. Mo. 2, 6. Error (intellectual) is also the predomi- 
 nant signification in the Platonic (kpotprikvziv. Eep. 5, 477. e. [ii. p. 165], 
 Euthyd. 281. c. [iii. p. 64]. Ale. 2, 146. a. [iv. p. 388-9], etc. The fol- 
 lowing passages are of special importance with regard to the Plat, doctrine 
 of sin. Eep. 7, 519. a. sq. [ii. p. 207]. Cf. Legg. 9, 863. e. sq. [v. p. 
 370-1], where sin is represented as that relation between the higher and 
 lower impulses of the soul, which is opposed to nature and to God ; that, 
 namely, when the latter rule and the former obey. Rep. 1, 351. d. sq. 
 [ii. p. 29, 30]. Cf. Legg. 1, 644, a. sq. [v. p. 31] where sin appears as 
 an inward want of harmony, or disunion, which is manifest outwardly in 
 civil discords, wars, etc. 
 
 100 Plato traces most sins to the influence of the body on the soul. 
 Phaed. 66. c. sq. [i. p. 65]. By this may be explained his ordinances, so 
 offensive to us, respecting the procreation of children. Rep. 5, 460. b. sq. 
 [ii. p. 144]. 
 
 101 Tim. 86. e. [ii. p. 402]. Legg. 6, 766. a. [v. p. 215]. 
 
 102 Legg. 4, 716. a. [v. p. 139]. 
 
 103 Men. 77. c. [iii. p. 14]. Cf. Gorg. 466. d. [i. p. 159], etc. 
 
 104 Legg. 5, 731. c. [v. p. 160]. The counterpart to this passage is 
 Arist. Eth. Nio. 9, 8. Cf. Cic. fin. 5, 9. 
 
 105 Legg. 10, 908. c. Cf. lb. 9, 863. e. [v. pp. 451, 370-1]. 
 Grotefend is wrong when he says, Plato nowhere connects faith with 
 virtue, Comm. p. 48. 
 
 1C6 Rep. 4, 444. c. [ii. p. 130]. The soul of the profligate is full of 
 scars. Gorg. 524. d. [i. p. 229]. 
 
THE PKOXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 59 
 
 to slavery ; 107 it robs man of his fairest joys here 108 and of 
 heavenly bliss hereafter ; the impure and unholy cannot come 
 to God ; 109 whoever has not here, in his earthly life, become 
 free from sin, must suffer the penalty for it after death. 110 The 
 .best cure for the sin-sickness of the soul is found in a good 
 education, in punitive justice, 111 and in philosophy. 112 
 
 It might be expected that with such views of the world and 
 of life, and with the holy earnestness of his theological prin- 
 ciples which pervades his entire philosophy, Plato would form 
 no other than an exceedingly worthy and elevated doctrine of 
 virtue. And this is in fact the case. The Christian beauty of 
 his Ethics proper, scarcely needs to be specially demonstrated or 
 discussed, since it has long enjoyed universal recognition as the 
 fairest flower of the Socratic school. 
 
 Virtue, says Plato, is likeness to God, 113 hence the virtu- 
 ous are God's friends and children. 114 But virtue is also health, 
 
 107 Rep. 9, 579. d. sq. [ii. p. 268]. Cf. John viii. 34. See further, 
 Phaed. 83. d. [i. p. 87]. Legg. 9, 863. e. [v. p. 370-1]. Cf. Rom. vi. 
 19, sq. For an incomparable description, applicable to our own times, of 
 the unbounded lawlessness, which is taken for freedom, but really leads to 
 most disgraceful bondage and tyranny, see Rep. 8, 562. b. sq. [ii. p. 252]. 
 Cf. on the other hand Legg. 6, 762. e. [v. p. 210]. Ep. 7, 354. e. [iv. p. 
 543] with 1 Cor. vii. 22 ; Eph. vi. 6, l etc. 
 
 108 Rep. 9, 586. b. [ii. p. 277]. 
 
 109 Phaed. 69. c. [i. p. 68] where is also a parallel to Matt. xxii. 
 14. 
 
 110 Gorg. 525. b. [i. p. 229]. Hence these also are called expiable sins. 
 Cf. Phaed. 113. e. [i. p. 122-3]. 
 
 111 Gorg. 476. e. 478. d. 525. b. [i. pp. 172-3, 175, 225]. Cf. Heb. xii. 
 5, sq. Hence also the earnest warning against the desire of transferring 
 all guilt from one's self to others and to circumstances. See the beautiful 
 passage, Legg. 5, 727. c. [v. p. 154]. Cf. 1 John i. 8. 
 
 112 Tim. 87. b. sq. [ii. p. 403]. Soph. 230. a. sq. [iii. p. 125]. 
 
 113 Theaet. 176. a. [i. p. 411]. Human life the most beautiful picture. 
 Rep. 6, 501. b. c. [ii. p. 189]. Cf. Matt. v. 48. 
 
 114 Legg. 4, 716. c. 5, 739. c. Cf. 12, 941. b. c. [v. pp. 140, 175, 
 499]. This expression designates, for the most part, in Plato Heroes or 
 sacred poets. Tim. 40. e. [ii. p. 345]. 
 
60 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 beauty, 115 and harmony of soul/ 16 yea, it is the true life of the 
 soul itself. When Plato describes the virtuous life of the 
 truly moral man, we almost think we behold that which the 
 New Testament, and especially John, calls the eternal life, the 
 life of the soul in and with God. 117 
 
 Virtue is fundamentally but one; yet it may be divided, 
 according to Plato, into four main branches. — Courage, Mo- 
 deration, Justice, Wisdom. 118 Plato frequently mentions also a 
 fifth, Piety ; and this as indeed the most excellent of all. 119 But 
 he usually places true Wisdom highest, and speaks of it as 
 Christ does of the precious pearl, to gain which, a man must 
 give up all else. 120 The strife of man with himself Plato de- 
 scribes and requires as do the Lord's Apostles, 121 and his re- 
 
 115 Eep. 4, 444. e. Cf. 1, 353. b. c. [ii. p. 130, and 31-2]. Taken some- 
 what differently Men. 78. b. [iii. p. 15]. 
 
 116 Gorg. 482. b. [i. p. 180]. This harmony arises from joyful obe- 
 dience to the rational, divine part of the soul. Legg. 3, 689. d. [v. p. 99]. 
 Virtue, i.q., harmony, the Pythagorean definition. Arist. Eth. Mo. 2, 6. 
 Diog. La. 8, 33. Hence the high estimation of music by the Pythagoreans 
 and Platonists. Plato considered music the best means of education. 
 
 117 Kep. 6, 490. b. [ii. p. 176]. The description which Plato here and 
 elsewhere, Kep. 6, 485. d. [ii. p. 171], gives of the nature, way of think- 
 ing, and life of the true philosopher, corresponds, in many points, with the 
 descriptions by which the church fathers sought to portray the life and 
 character of a true Christian. Cf. Clem. Al. Paed. 1. p. 101. Just. M. 
 ad. Diogn. 326, etc. Athen. Leg. p. 288, etc. Not the mental acquire- 
 ments, but the sentiments, are the essential thing with Plato ; he loves to 
 identify true philosophy and true nobility of soul. Cf. the beautiful pas- 
 sage in Plot. 6, 9, 9, with John xvii. 3, etc. 
 
 118 Eep. 4, 442. c. ; 443. d. [ii. pp. 128-9]. Cf. Lach. 199. b. sq. 
 Charm. 164. d. [iv. pp. 177, 128]. Theaet. 176. c. [i. p. 411]. 
 
 119 Prot. 324. e.' 329. c. [i. pp. 253, 258]. Epin. 989. b. [vi. p. 30]. 
 Cf . also in respect of Plato's piety, the interesting religious ordinances con- 
 cerning blasphemy, etc. Legg. 10, 907. d. sq. (9, 854, e. 10, 885. b.) 
 [v. pp. 450, 354, 405]. Cf. Levit. xxiv. 14, sq. 
 
 120 Matt. xiii. 46. Phaed. 69. a, b. Piot. 352. be. [i. pp. 68, 283]. 
 Cf. Wisdom 6, 12, sq. ; 7, 17, sq. 
 
 121 Legg. 1, 626. e. Cf. 6. 47. e. [v. pp. 4, 37]. Euseb. Pr. Ev.12, 
 27 ; Prov. xvi. 32 ; Rom. vii. 22. Cf. also Hor. Epist. 1, 2, 62. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 61 
 
 quirement that man love and strive after the good purely for 
 its own sake, and not for any advantage it may peradventure 
 procure, can, with equal reason, be denominated no other than 
 Christian. 122 He also demands an immutable fidelity to the 
 good, even when this fidelity threatens to bring danger and 
 death. 123 For it is worse to commit injustice than to suffer, 124 
 wherefore also we must never return evil for evil. 125 In accord- 
 ance with this view, Plato gives, in several passages of his 
 writings, a description of a just man suffering, which corre- 
 sponds, almost line for line, with the picture which the Gospels 
 draw of the persecution and condemnation of the Saviour; 
 even the blow on the cheek, which the noble Sufferer had to 
 endure from the rude soldiers, is not forgotten. 126 Plato was 
 constrained, by his whole way of thinking, to regard the free- 
 will of man as the author of all moral action, and there are 
 not wanting passages which intimate this, 127 although he has 
 nowhere developed and presented a proper doctrine of the free- 
 dom of the will. There is one remarkable passage in the Meno, 
 where, in accordance with biblical principles, he appears to 
 
 122 See the beautiful passage against those who recommend virtue for 
 the sake of its rewards. Rep. 2, 362. e. sq. [ii. p. 41]. Gorg. 500. a. 
 [i. p. 201]. 
 
 123 Apol. 30. b. [i. p. 17]. Rep. 2, 364. d. [ii. p. 43]. Cf. Matt, 
 vii. 13. 
 
 i 24 Gorg. 479. e. Cf. 507, c. [i. pp. 177, 210]. Rep. 4, 445. a, b. [ii. 
 p. 130], etc. 
 
 125 Crito 49. c. [i. p. 38]. Cf. Rom. xii. 17 ; Euseb. Praep.' Ev. 13, 7. 
 Celsus maintained that Jesus took His doctrine of suffering .injustice from 
 Plato. Orig. c. Cels. 7, p. 735. 
 
 120 Gorg. 486, a. so. [i. p. 183-4]. Rep. 2, 361. b. sq. [ii. p. 40]. 
 Cf. Euseb. Praep. Ev. 12, 10. (Heb. xi. 37). 
 
 12 < Legg. 10, 904, b. [v. p. 442]. Cf. Rep. 10, 617. e. [ii. p. 308]. 
 Remarkable is the frequently recurring thought in Plato, ' that no one is 
 voluntarily bad.' Tim. 87. b. [ii. p. 403]. Men. 78. b. [in. p. 15]. Prot. 
 145. d. [i. p. 275?] It is plain what prejudicial consequences to the 
 doctrine of freedom may be drawn from this thought, and these Aristotle 
 does not fail to censure. Eth. Nio. 3, 1. 
 
./ 
 
 62 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 represent virtue as the work of Divine grace. 128 He was un- 
 questionably convinced that all the beauty and grandeur of 
 earthly life must be traced back to the Divine control and 
 volition, and for this reason laboured to represent his State as 
 founded on God, and his laws as proceeding from God. 129 That 
 he not only described and preached virtue, but also himself 
 practised it, and left to his neighbours the lofty model of a 
 pure moral life, is a statement which no malicious calumnies of 
 his enemies are sufficient to cast a doubt upon. 
 
 Virtue has indeed, as Plato teaches, its reward in itself, 130 
 and we can hardly blame his ethical doctrine of Eudaemonism ; 
 yet he does not omit to mention also the blessed consequences 
 which are infallibly connected with the exercise of virtue in 
 this, as in the future life. 131 Plato teaches and maintains 
 not merely the immortality of the soul, but also recompense 
 beyond the grave, and in degrees proportioned to guilt and 
 merit ; 132 and he does not omit to call attention to the terrible- 
 ness of the thought of a future judgment, especially in the 
 last hours of life. 133 It is well known what respect and in- 
 fluence the Platonic eschatology has had in the Christian 
 Church, on account of its resemblance to the Christian doc- 
 
 128 Men. 99. e. [iii. p. 47]. Clem. Al. (Strom. 5, p. 429. b.) takes the 
 passage in all earnestness in a Biblico- Christian sense. Another view is 
 that of Justin M. Coh. p. 31. a. 
 
 129 Legg. 4, 712. b. ; 713. a. ; 1, 624. a. [v. pp. 133-4 and 1]. 
 
 130 Rep. 10, 612. a. [ii. p. 302]. Cf. Gorg. 507. c. [i. p. 210]. 
 
 131 Rep. 1. 351. a. [ii. p. 29], etc. 
 
 132 Legg. 12, 959. b. [v. 'p. 529 7 30], where the same phrase occurs as in 
 Rom. xiv. 12. On the future judgment see Gorg. 526. b. sq. [i. p. 231]. 
 Rep. 10, 614. c. [ii. p. 305]. Cf. Matt. xxv. 33. 
 
 133 Rep. i. 330. d. [ii. p. 6]. It seems as if Plato wished to portray, 
 in this passage, the unrest of the awakened conscience. Grotefend, however, 
 maintains that Plato teaches nothing of the conscience, not even in Rep. 
 9, 578. a. sq. [ii. p. 266-7]. It would certainly be erroneous to find an 
 intimation of it in the Daemon of Socrates, Theag. 128, d. [iv. p. 403] ; but 
 it can hardly be denied that the heathen generally, and Plato in particu- 
 lar, correctly apprehended and described the conscience. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. G3 
 
 trine. His proofs for our continued existence after death, 134 
 certainly do not proceed from Christian thoughts and truths ; 
 but the tone and spirit in which he everywhere treats of the 
 Athanasy of the true Self in man, and the weight which this 
 doctrine has in and upon his whole system, may, without doubt, 
 be designated as truly Christian. His Phaedo will ever be sure 
 of the deep impression which it has always made on susceptible 
 minds. 
 
 Besides these resemblances between Platonic and Christian 
 thoughts and doctrines, many others strike us on a continued 
 consideration, which exist principally between some historical 
 circumstances, by which we see the Gospel and Platonism 
 accompanied. We may indicate first, the similarity which 
 seems to be presented with respect to the immediate celestial 
 origin of Plato, and the incarnation of our Saviour. But the 
 Christian Church from the first, has rightly declined most 
 decidedly to make comparisons of this sort ; 135 and in the most 
 modern times it has been fully proved, that not even the 
 incarnations of the Indian mythology can be brought into 
 comparison with the Gospel history of the birth of Jesus, 
 
 134 There are three main thoughts from which Plato develops his proof 
 of immortality : 1. The physical and moral indestructibility of the substance 
 of the soul. The soul has being and goodness by its very essence ; and good- 
 ness is here equivalent to indestructibility. The bad is related to the soul ; 
 not as the rust to the iron, which it corrodes, but only as the slime and 
 sand which covers a shell in the sea, and which may be removed. Rep. 10, 
 609. d. 611. d, e. [ii. pp. 299, 302], etc. 2. The recollection of what was be- 
 held in a previous state of existence. Man, while on earth, could hardly 
 attain to the apprehension of the True and Good, if it had not been im- 
 printed on his soul long before his birth, in heaven, etc. All learning is 
 only a recalling of what was known before, etc. Phaed. 56. a. [i. p. 75]. 
 Men. 81. c. [iii. p. 20]. Cf. Cic. Tusc. 1, 24. 3. The thought of independ- 
 ent and constant motion. The soul must be immortal, because it may be 
 proved to move constantly and of itself. Phaedr. 245. c. [i. p. 321]. Cf. 
 Cic. Tusc. 1, 23. etc. On the hope of reunion after death. Cf. Phaed. 63. 
 b. 68. a. [i. pp. 61, 66]. 
 
 135 Orig. c. Cels. 1. p. 30 (Ed. Delar.), ffier. adv. Jov, [iv. p. 186, ed. 
 Par]. Huet. Dem. Ev. 9, 9, 4, etc. 
 
64 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 though, apparently, these have a greater relationship to it than 
 have the Hellenic legends of this kind. 
 
 It might, perhaps, have been considered more appropriate 
 if we had made the remark before, when reflecting on the 
 manner of clothing ideas in the Gospel and in Plato, that Plato 
 makes use of the myths with a similar view and for a similar 
 purpose, to those with which Christ uses the parables. 136 Christ 
 wishes, by His parables, as well to conceal as to reveal His 
 doctrines : He wishes, on the one hand, to render them plain to 
 the senses and impressive; and, on the other, to soften their 
 sharp spiritual definiteness, and allow one to fall back on their 
 pleasing envelope. The myths in Plato were intended to have, 
 and do have, the same significance. Does not Plato, as an 
 author, in so far as he wishes to exhibit and magnify Socrates, 
 appear to have a certain resemblance to the Evangelist John ? 
 It is well known, from the account in Eusebius, what was 
 John's opinion with regard to the three first Gospels ; and that 
 his purpose, in his picture of our Lord's life, was to set forth 
 clearly the higher and divine part of His nature. A like 
 object probably lies at the base of the Platonic representation 
 of Socrates. Plato, at least, has conceived and portrayed 
 Socrates in an entirely different and far more noble and 
 significant manner than Xenophon in his Memorabilia has 
 done. 
 
 But a still closer parallel than the above may be drawn in 
 reference to the intellectual warfare which was carried on by 
 Plato, as by Christ, against a certain pernicious class of men. 
 As Christ with the Pharisees, so Plato contends with the 
 Sophists, and through his whole life with the same energy 
 and with the same noble indignation. And Pharisaism and 
 Sophistry are, in fact, very much alike, not merely in their 
 unwholesome influence, but in their whole spirit and character. 
 Obscurity and conceit are the basis of both ; both are less 
 
 136 Matt. xiii. 11, sq. Cf. Arist. Met. 1, 2. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 65 
 
 concerned with being than with seeming and pretence : both 
 impose on the undiscerning multitude, i hold the truth in un- 
 righteousness ' (Rom. i. 18), and hinder it from what it should 
 and would be and accomplish. In these parallels we should 
 certainly observe those points also in which the difference 
 between the Sophists and Pharisees is seen ; and this is mani- 
 fest chiefly in certain religious and moral principles of the 
 Sophists, which we do not meet with in the teaching of the 
 Pharisees. The distinction between good and evil, between 
 right and wrong, did not, according to the Sophists, exist in 
 and of itself, but is entirely a product of conventional life, 137 as 
 also religion is only an invention of fear and a useful political 
 instrument. 
 
 And who is not involuntarily reminded by the Platonic 
 Republic of the Christian Kingdom of Heaven ? Does not 
 the former, like the latter, rest on a genuine religious and 
 moral basis ? Is not the former, like the latter, a representation 
 of that dominion which belongs to the Divine in the life of 
 man, and to which life owes its purest happiness and its 
 highest dignity ? Does not the former, like the latter, desire to 
 awake and render effev :ive the great thought of an inward 
 brotherhood of the different ranks and individuals (at least 
 among all the Hellenic races) ! ' 138 Plato certainly did not stand 
 on that lofty eminence from which our Lord and Saviour took 
 in view His holy aim, yet it must not be ignored or denied 
 that a similar object stood obscurely before the enthusiastic 
 soul of the pious heathen, when he created, con amore, that 
 admirable picture of a State sanctified by piety and virtue. 139 
 Even the church fathers were not disinclined to place his 
 Republic at least near to, and to compare it with, the Theo- 
 
 137 Gorg. 483. a. sq. [i. p. 181]. Rep. 1, 338. c. sq. [ii. p. 15]. 
 
 138 Rep. -3, 415. a. 9, 590 d. [ii. pp. 98, 281]. 
 
 139 Assimilation not merely of the individual, but of the species, of 
 humanity, to God — this is the great fundamental thought and aim of the 
 Platonic Republic. Cf. the beautiful passage, Cic. de legg. 1, 7. 
 
 5 
 
66 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 cracy of Moses. 140 Plato could hardly have wished his state to 
 be considered an unattainable ideal. 
 
 Having now, in this manner, found in Plato's writings in no 
 inconsiderable number of passages, doctrinal statements and 
 views which accord more or less with the Bible and Christianity, 
 we might suppose that in these passages we had obtained that 
 which, in the accomplishment of our task, we were seeking. 
 Of this opinion were most of the church fathers and theo- 
 logians, when they praised the Christianity of Plato. We 
 should do wrong, however, if we rested content with the details 
 which satisfied them ; we should err if we thought that the 
 asserted Christianity of Plato is or can be proved by such 
 passages. They really prove nothing but the highest proba- 
 bility that the Christian element in Plato's philosophy will 
 actually be found on closer examination ; they are not the 
 fruits of the examination itself, but only a layer cropping out 
 into the daylight, which incites us to scraping and digging, by 
 giving reason to the supposition, that if we follow its lead, we 
 shall meet with a rich bed of ore. 
 
 It is not difficult to understand why such collections of 
 passages have no real scientific value, do not furnish a clear 
 insight into themselves even, nor a proper basis for a safe 
 judgment. The correct comprehension of each thought can 
 proceed only from its organic connection with the others, 
 which belong to it. By the dislocation of a sentence from its 
 conditioned and conditioning passages its sense will be more or 
 less shifted, and always so much the more, the more fresh and 
 genial is the productiveness of the author from whom we take 
 our single passages. In the case of those who glue together 
 and mechanically compose their whole from single parts, this 
 taking out of single parts may be done and may be instructive ; 
 but with those authors whose ideas and works grow up like 
 trees, a correct apprehension of the individual part is scarcely 
 
 140 Clem. Al. Strom. 1, 251. a. 4, 396. b. Euseb. Pr. Ev. 9, 6, etc. 
 
THE PROXIMATE REASON OF THIS RECOGNITION. 67 
 
 possible without a living apprehension of the whole. Plato 
 unquestionably belongs to the latter description of authors. 
 
 For these reasons, it may not be impossible that the pas- 
 sages adduced from Plato do not contain the Christian sense 
 which they seem to do when taken by themselves and torn 
 from their connection ; as frequently the reverse is the case, 
 when passages are brought forward to prove the. unchristian 
 and godless character of an author, which, taken in their true 
 connection, would far rather have produced an entirely op- 
 posite impression. 
 
 In general, we cannot too strongly call attention to the 
 error which we too readily fall into with regard to the maxims 
 of the ancient Classics. The pleasure which our classically 
 educated minds take in these maxims, rests not seldom on a 
 misunderstanding of them. We do not take them in the sense 
 of the ancients, but introduce, without seeking or knowing 
 it, a modern sense into them, and then rejoice over the 
 agreement we discover between our own young hearts and 
 those venerable reliques of hoary antiquity. The frequency of 
 such descriptions has been very justly remarked by Goethe. 141 
 Seneca affords a most fitting proof of the above. Jerome had 
 no hesitation in calling him c Our Seneca.' 142 Seneca certainly 
 uses more than any other a Christian language, and yet his 
 fundamental view of God and the world is utterly unchristian. 143 
 
 But this fear of a misapprehension, to which a few pas- 
 sages taken out of their connection are so easily subject, is 
 neither the only nor the principal reason which forbids us to 
 suppose that we have already attained our object. The princi- 
 pal idea of the investigation itself still more necessitates its 
 continuance. We wish to grasp the Christian element in 
 Plato, this we have manifestly not done hitherto. The pas- 
 
 141 Nachgelass. Werke. (Tub. 1833), 9, p. 109. 
 
 142 Hier. c. Jov. 1, 41. Cf. devir. illust. 12. 
 
 143 Seneca was a decided Pantheist. Ep. 92. 95. Cf. Nat. qu. 1, 
 praef. (p. 155, ed. bip.). 
 
86 THE SUBJECT VIEWED EMPIRICALLY. 
 
 sages and doctrines from Plato have as yet afforded us, not the 
 Christian element itself, but what is related to, and resembles 
 it. All such passages, taken together, even if they really have 
 the Christian sense they seem to have, do not constitute the 
 Christian element ; nor is it contained in the doctrines, how- 
 ever closely they may follow the Christian, for the simple 
 reason that that which is peculiarly the Christian element does 
 not lie in the doctrines of Christianity, as will be shown more 
 distinctly below. 
 
 However elevated and biblical therefore Plato's teachings 
 concerning God and the world, virtue, life and immortality, 
 may sound, we cannot call him Christian, because he had these 
 doctrines, but we must be able to say the converse of this, 
 because he is a Christian, he has these doctrines. 
 
 Wherein then properly consists the Christian element in 
 Plato? In order to answer this question satisfactorily, we 
 must now take quite a different course from our previous 
 external empirical treatment. 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. G9 
 
 II. 
 
 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS CONCERNING PLATO ; 
 RELATION OF PLATO TO THE NEW PLATONISTS AND TO ARISTOTLE. 
 
 6 The knowledge of the causal is the object of science ; we say 
 we know when we perceive the cause of that which exists.' In 
 these words Proclus indicates the genetic mode of apprehension, 
 and in this, and no other, must the course of the following ex- 
 amination be conducted, for it is at the same time the most in- 
 structive and the most interesting method. 
 
 An inward connection accordingly must unite all the points 
 of our consideration which follow, or an intellectual necessity 
 of leading over our consciousness from the one to the other ; 
 and the main conception of this examination must be manifest 
 in the course of it, not as one formed and introduced by us, but 
 rather as one which has been developed naturally from the 
 subject-matter itself. 
 
 But if now the essential and Christian elements of the Platonic 
 philosophy are to be unfolded, so to speak, organically, before 
 our eyes, all that must necessarily first be removed which would 
 operate destructively, or as a restriction, on this development. 
 We must seek above all to obtain free space and a clear arena 
 for this grand phenomenon, the consideration of which is to 
 instruct and gratify us. 
 
70 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 And, from the nature of the case, we must first attempt the 
 removal of the prejudices and distorted views which are pre- 
 valent in cultivated circles and in the public opinion, concerning 
 Plato. For we meet with these not so much in literature and 
 in those philosophers who are authors, as in the conversation of 
 the day, and in the thoughts of those, who have neither time 
 nor ability for an independent investigation of classic antiquity. 
 
 The common opinions concerning Plato, which are in circu- 
 lation among the educated public, could not be less favourable 
 than they are, to him, or to the correct understanding of his 
 peculiarities. This is the case not merely with the view of those 
 who are accustomed to speak mockingly or depreciatingly of him 
 and his philosophy, but also of the usual opinion of his admirers, 
 who commend him enthusiastically. Por, it is just this base and 
 spurious enthusiasm which has most contributed to displace the 
 true point of view for a considerate judgment of Plato, and to 
 diffuse false conceptions of him and of the value of his philosophy. 
 It is often the fate of great men, that their friends injure them 
 far more than their enemies. 
 
 That which has earned favour for Plato with a large part of 
 the public, is of very doubtful value, and would be adapted to 
 lessen our esteem for him, or to draw just blame on him, rather 
 than to enhance his reputation, if it really existed in such a 
 manner and to so great an extent, as is frequently represented. 
 
 The representation, as if a certain sentimental, fanciful, 
 idealistic tendency were the characteristic mark of Plato, was long 
 ago so much brought into vogue, that we usually think first of 
 this tendency, whenever the name of Plato is mentioned. But 
 this representation is wrong throughout, and by no means reaches 
 what is essential in Plato. 
 
 That part of it may be most easily refuted which has refer- 
 ence to sentimentality or extravagance of feeling. How could it 
 have existed in Plato, when it is most generally acknowledged that 
 it was foreign to the whole of classic antiquity ! The predomi- 
 nant character of antique life and of antique art and literature, 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 71 
 
 is the plastic ; everywhere sensuously beautiful form and power, 
 clear understanding and certain harmony ; but — to our modern 
 feeling — for the most part also a marble coldness and want of geni- 
 ality. The tearful tenderness or sorrowful blessedness which is so 
 especially peculiar to our sentimentality, is sought in vain among 
 the ancients, not excluding Plato. 1 How could such a sickly 
 fever-glow be produced from his strong and thoroughly sound 
 mind? 
 
 We do not wish absolutely to condemn sentimentality, but 
 we wish to distinguish a pure, tender, inward, and elevated form 
 of feeling from that moon-struck affectation and disguised ap- 
 petite for dainties, which has been mainly excited and nourished 
 among us by a certain kind of romances. The necessity and 
 value of the former for our modern life, can scarcely be denied ; 
 but just as little can it be mistaken by what beams this flower, 
 in the history of human development, has been called forth and 
 unfolded ; by no other than those which created and glorified the 
 pictures of the virgin mother of God, and yearningly extended 
 upwards the round temple arches. Noble sentimentality is a 
 product of Christianity in its union with Germanic life ; but the 
 whining and base is a product of that flaccidity and weakness of 
 nerves, which would indeed, but cannot. That neither kind 
 could exist at all in Plato, lies in the nature of the case, and is 
 evident enough in his teaching and works. One may convince 
 himself of this in a moment, by taking into consideration Plato's 
 views of the nature and worth of the feelings. He seeks for the 
 origin and seat of the feelings in the mortal and unreasoning 
 part of the soul; 2 feelings are, accordingly, things which are with- 
 out measure or degree ; for we cannot suppose any degree, above 
 which they cannot rise, or below which they cannot sink. 3 The 
 
 1 The single passage in Plato which has an almost sentimental appear- 
 ance is Phaedr. 229. a. 230. b. [i. pp. 303-4]. But the sentimentality is 
 far more apparent than real ; the thoroughly poetic, youthful character of 
 the dialogue gives it this appearance. 
 
 2 Tim. 69. d. [ii. p. 380]. 3 Phil. 27. e. sq. [iv. p. 37]. 
 
72 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 state of the feelings is not being but becoming ; they are in an 
 everlasting wavering and fluctuation. 4 Hence also their worth- 
 lessness in respect of science and morality. For since both of 
 these have to avail themselves only of being, they ought not to 
 meddle much with the becoming and ever changeable, and should 
 in every way guard against its injurious influence. Especially 
 do the feelings injure, to an important extent, the moral life, by 
 either bribing it with their charms or subduing it by their 
 violence ; 5 yea, so soon as they have taken root as desires and 
 passions, they render the attainment of true virtue almost im- 
 possible. 6 
 
 Plato does not indeed throw all the feelings into one class ; 
 he expressly distinguishes from one another the higher and the 
 lower, the noble and the base emotions, and allows a certain value 
 to the former ; 7 but still always a subordinate and conditional 
 value ; and the exercise of the feelings is never reckoned by 
 him a part of the proper life of the spirit, but only of its life in 
 the phenomenal world and in the mortal body. 8 
 
 Considering these opinions of Plato, which do not set a high 
 value on the emotions generally, it is certainly not to be wondered 
 at if he propounds principles and approves of regulations which 
 are, to our minds, thoroughly hurtful and even revolting. It has 
 been long since remarked and shown how closely the spirit of 
 his Ethics is related to the spirit of Stoicism ; the Platonic doc- 
 trine of morals is distinguished mainly from that of the Stoics, 
 in that the former allows the senses to afford a contribution to 
 
 4 Phil. 53. c. sq. [iv. p. 83]. Tim. 52. d, e [ii. p. 359]. 
 
 5 Phaed. 66, c. cf. 83, e. [i. pp. 65, 87]. Kep. 7, 519. b. [ii. p. 207]. 
 Cf. on the corrupting effect of that which natters the senses, Gorg. 464. 
 e. sq. [i. p. 157]. 
 
 6 Eep. 8, 559. b. [ii. p. 248]. 
 
 7 Phil. 12. d. [iv. p. 6]. The feeling of the beautiful more noble than 
 the common pleasurable feelings, 51, b. sq. [iv. p. 79]. The truest and 
 highest joys are those which are connected with virtue and follow in its 
 train, 63. e. [iv. p. 103]. 
 
 8 Cf. Phaed. 79. c. [i. p. 82]. 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 73 
 
 the happy life of the wise man, 9 while the latter stedfastly asserts 
 the exclusive and complete adequacy of the reason to happiness, 
 but in its moral requirements the Academy appears throughout 
 with the same hardness and severity as the Stoa, 10 the former 
 forbade as strictly as the latter grief and complaining at the 
 death of beloved relatives, 11 and had no hesitation in approving, 
 on political grounds, the exposure of weakly children. 12 
 
 Who would consider such an one sentimental, who pro- 
 pounds such a doctrine of the affections, and makes such re- 
 quisitions ? 
 
 The assumption of a certain extravagance of feeling in 
 Plato, is indeed so closely connected with an expression which, 
 though resting on a mistake, is universally used, that the assump- 
 tion must fall if the incorrectness of the expression is proved. 
 We hear much and often of Platonic Love, which, in fact, ac- 
 cording to the idea usually connected with the word, is of a 
 truly sentimental character. Now, not a few who use this ex- 
 pression, imagine that this is the kind of love which Plato either 
 himself possessed, or particularly well described, and hence its 
 name. But Plato is perfectly innocent of having had this love 
 baptized under his name. He knows nothing of the kind of 
 love named after him, and it is a pure mistake that tenderest 
 lovers have made him their patron saint. The Banquet of Plato 
 has given the chief occasion to this mistake. In this dialogue 
 occurs the well-known poetical account of the two halves, which, 
 under a powerful mutual attraction are continually seeking each 
 other. 13 The appearance of sentimentality which this expres- 
 
 9 Plato says expressly that happiness is a good compounded of wisdom 
 and pure pleasure. Phil. 21. e. sq. [iv. p. 25]. So also Arist. Eth. Nic. 
 1, 15. Cic. Fin. 4, 25 sq. 5, 26. sq. 
 
 10 Rep. 10,605. d, e. [ii. p. 295]. 
 
 11 Rep. 3, 387. e. [ii. p. 67]. The in part unnatural disowning of such 
 feelings was generally in high regard among the Greeks. Cf. Plutarch, 
 Pericles, c. 36. 
 
 12 Rep. 5,459. d. [ii. p. 143]. 
 
 13 Conv. 192. b. sq. Dante and Petrarch were the principal agents in 
 
74 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 sion of the two halves, has, at first view, disappears entirely on a 
 closer consideration of the account. It is the comedian Aris- 
 tophanes in whose mouth the story is put ; and the comical, 
 ironical, and even caricaturist character of this fable is through- 
 out sufficiently evident. Even the beginning of it, drawn after 
 the manner of Hogarth or the Flemish painters, which I can- 
 not transfer hither from the danger of offending delicate senses, 
 is sufficiently adapted to allay, most completely, every sentimental 
 paroxysm in which, perhaps, a genial reader may have ap- 
 proached it. 
 
 The idea of Platonic love might be referred much more 
 correctly to the remainder of the dialogue than to this delec- 
 table story of the two halves. For the main subject of this 
 dialogue is certainly Love, and the more noble in contradistinc- 
 tion to basely sensual and impure love. But if noble love is 
 here treated of, it is neither the love of sentiment nor even that 
 of sex, which is meant, while it is this exactly in which the 
 nature of the so-called Platonic love consists and is manifested. 
 The love which Plato commends in the Banquet as the chief 
 requisite of a true philosopher, is nothing but a reverence, 
 grounded in the rational spirit, for the truly good and beautiful, 
 and proceeding from it an incessant but dispassionate striving 
 thereafter. Not the slightest traces of the extravagant sweet- 
 ness which dwells in Platonic love is seen in this thoroughly 
 philosophical love ; in the former, the feelings play the principal 
 part ; in the latter, they do not come on the stage at all, the 
 morally thinking spirit being both their author and subject. 14 
 
 With what complete absence of sentimentality Plato re- 
 garded and treated of sexual and sentimental love, is sufficiently 
 evident from the Republic. He here not only proposes, with all 
 
 bringing the so-called Platonic love into honour and regard. Conv. 185 
 c, d. [iii.p. 500]. 
 
 14 In this sense Socrates calls himself a votary of Love, and says, that 
 love is his only science and art. Phaedr. 227. c. 257. a. 248. d. [i. pp. 301, 
 333, 324]. Conv. 177. d. [iii. p. 485]. 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 75 
 
 seriousness a full community of wives/* at least in the warrior- 
 caste, but seems generally to be acquainted with no other point 
 of view or object of the relation between the male and female 
 sexes, than the physical and political. That which he has most 
 at heart in this relation, is the production of children in every 
 respect proper for the State, and he does not, for this reason, in 
 the least regard, not even in so far as the State requires them, 
 the bonds of affection between parents and children. 16 
 
 However, falsely then, this representation of a certain ex- 
 travagance of feeling is connected with Plato's name, it would 
 be equally unjust, if, having learnt that the contrary is much 
 more the case with him, we should therefore condemn him or 
 allow him to be lowered in our esteem. This we have no right 
 to do until we have proved the absolute excellence of our senti- 
 mentality, and shown that the want of it is to be charged to his 
 deliberate and intentional hardness of heart. And either of 
 these results it would be difficult to accomplish. 
 
 But it is easier to prevent his being credited with sentimen- 
 tality than to free him from the pretended highly honourable 
 designation of an Idealist. For this designation originates, as 
 it seems, not so much in the obscure conceptions of ordinary 
 thinking, but rather in the clear conceptions of science and 
 philosophy itself. It is an usual, and generally known scientific 
 classification, in accordance with which all philosophical ten- 
 dencies and systems are brought into two grand divisions, viz., 
 of Realism and Idealism ; and since, for many years, in all 
 treatises and manuals of philosophy and its history, Plato has 
 been placed in the class of Idealists, it is naturally supposed, out- 
 side the schools in common life, that there is sufficient reason for 
 calling him an Idealist. 
 
 We shall leave undiscussed for the present the correctness of 
 
 15 Rep. 5, 457. c. sq. Tim. 18. c. [ii. pp. 141, 320]. An account of a 
 similar community of wives and property among the Atlantides is given in 
 a fragment of a history of Lybia, by Eumolus, found in Crete, in 1821. 
 
 16 Rep. 5, 460. b. sq. [ii. p. 144]. 
 
76 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 this classification and title, for we have not to inquire first into 
 the scientific conception of Idealism, but into the representa- 
 tions with which the expression is connected in common life. 
 It is quite possible that science is perfectly correct in designating 
 a certain intellectual striving by the name of Idealism, and yet, 
 that it would be quite wrong to repeat this word and entitle this 
 striving Idealism in common life. For scientific and ordinary 
 thinking are, in general, essentially different both in form and 
 intrinsic value ; and an idealist, in a history of philosophy, is, 
 doubtless, quite a different thing from an idealist who is com- 
 mended in the conversation of the day. 
 
 Let then Plato be represented as an idealist in the language 
 of the cathedra and the compendium, — we will concede, at 
 starting, the assumption, that there is a rational and tenable idea 
 connected with the word ; but against the general and favourite 
 application of this name to Plato in common life, we must claim 
 most decidedly, that Plato is not at all what is usually under- 
 stood by an idealist. 
 
 How then is the idealist usually thought of? An enthusi- 
 astic man who loves and makes ideals, i.e., sublime intellectual 
 originals and types, and prefers these unconditionally to the 
 common reality. The conceptions of idea, ideal and idealistic, 
 ideality and idealism are, for the most part, so mingled together 
 in the popular mode of representation, that it is difficult to effect 
 a sharp distinction between them in ordinary thinking. 
 
 But what renders it especially difficult to oppose or correct 
 the traditional view of Plato's idealism, is the pretty general and 
 passionate admiration of the so-called ideals. Ideals are among 
 us, like the crown-diamonds, of the highest value. It is thought 
 almost everywhere in all seriousness, that men cannot do better 
 than manufacture ideals, and strive after their attainment with 
 all their powers : life would lose all its beauty and nobility if it 
 ceased to look up to the heights where hover its bright ideals ; 
 but, on the other hand, every one who contributes to awaken and 
 diffuse enthusiasm for ideals, deserves well of the world and 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 77 
 
 mankind. And it is said to be just this which we are to regard 
 especially as the beautiful and admirable in the Platonic philo- 
 sophy, that it is itself penetrated with this enthusiasm for ideals, 
 and is also able to kindle it in all susceptible natures. 
 
 He who would meddle with ideals, doubting somewhat their 
 highest value, strikes at the heart of the ideal-loving public, and 
 need not count on acquiescence in his discussions, nay, not even 
 on being calmly heard. But we need not now enter into the 
 controversy proper concerning the nature and value of ideals, 
 we need merely to institute as close a comparison as possible 
 between the thinking and acting of an ordinary idealist and 
 those of Plato, and to judge from this, whether Plato is to be 
 called an idealist or not. 
 
 The first thing we perceive in ordinary idealists is ill-humour 
 and discontent. They do not turn a friendly countenance on the 
 world, but look down on common life with the expression of 
 pride or contempt. 
 
 This appears to be the case also with Plato. His contem- 
 poraries reproached him with his ill-humour, his air of superi- 
 ority, and his knitted brows. 
 
 With what are the idealists discontented ? This they declare 
 with sufficient plainness. It is with that which is and happens in 
 every-day reality. It is not beautiful or good enough for them. 
 
 Does not our Plato openly say the same % Does he not com- 
 plain often, and sharply and bitterly enough of the common 
 course of things, the ordinary doings and practices of men % 17 
 
 With this discontent, is most intimately connected among the 
 idealists, the desire and striving after a better state of things. 
 
 This is also sufficiently manifest in Plato. 18 
 
 , Now, how do the idealists act, in order, according to their 
 
 abilities, to realize this desire, and to give a better form to the 
 
 common reality ? They raise themselves in thought from the 
 
 lower to the higher ■, from that which is, to that which, according 
 
 17 Kep. 6, 496. b. Cf. 500. b. [ii. pp. 183, 188]. 
 
 18 Phil. 20. d. [iv. p. 23]. Cf. Gorg. 526. e. [i. p. 231], etc. 
 
78 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 to their ideas, ought to be, they project in their minds pure and 
 excellent originals and copies for all the conditions and relations 
 of life, and furnish the same with all conceivable perfections. 
 These ideals they present continually before the world ; they re- 
 quire the world to reflect upon them incessantly, and to copy 
 them as far as possible. 
 
 Does not Plato do the same ? There is in him, unmistake- 
 ably, the ascending direction of thought; he indubitably raises 
 himself high above all the low and base things of earth, to the 
 contemplation of the eternally beautiful and good in heaven, 19 
 and not only guides up thither the looks of all his followers, but 
 enjoins it upon them, as a sacred duty, to order all their life and 
 actions in accordance with their perceptions of the most beauti- 
 ful and most perfect. 50 
 
 Accordingly, Plato's opinions and procedure agree in all 
 essential particulars with those of the idealists, and, consequently, 
 he is with perfect justice denominated an idealist ! What shall 
 we say to this result ? That Plato's intellectual tendency and 
 that of the idealists appear to be parallel to each other, without, 
 however, being like each other in their inward essence. 
 
 Even the discontent of Plato with the actual world, is 
 essentially different from that of the self -sufficient idealists. 
 
 To be discontented with the existing and actual, is in the 
 power of every one ! But the chief point is, has every one a 
 right so to be % This the ordinary idealists presuppose without 
 further consideration ; but the presupposition is grounded 
 usually in nothing else than vanity and obscurity ; Plato, on the 
 other hand, may be justified in the most decided manner for his 
 dissatisfaction with his own times. 
 
 Should the concern which the actual state of things causes 
 to this or that person, in itself give him the right to set up his 
 
 19 See the principal passages on the ideal world, which is also called 
 heaven or the kingdom of truth. Eep. 7, 517. b. 516. b. ; 6, 509. d. [ii. 
 pp. 205, 204]. Phaedr. 248. b. [i. p. 324]. 
 
 20 Rep. 6, 500. c. sq. Tim. 90. d. [ii. pp. 188,407]. 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 79 
 
 ideals in the place of the things which displease them, then 
 should we look with suspicion on the beauty of the world and 
 the free spirit of life. Then it would be difficult to draw the 
 boundary line between idealists and fools. For how many so- 
 called ideals spring from shallow discontent and perverseness ! 
 Much appears to the ignorant, bad and exceptionable, which, on 
 a more profound investigation, is recognized as good and benefi- 
 cial. That sleeper under the oak tree, who, if he had had the 
 arrangement of the world, would have made pumpkins grow on 
 the oak, has still everywhere Ins parallels, as, e.g., is sufficiently 
 evident in the political ideals and plans of reform of the daily 
 journals. From the Girondist to St Simon and Fourier, what 
 a gallery of ideals from such sources ! 
 
 Not less numerous is that species of ideals, the formation of 
 which is induced by disordered nerves or in perverseness of 
 heart. Did not even the clear-headed Lessing think, in an 
 irritated mood, that the trees should appear red instead of 
 green, if a landscape is to be ideally beautiful ? 
 
 To those who, for reasons of this kind form ideals, Plato 
 truly did not belong. His variance with his times was histori- 
 cally, no less than philosophically, well-founded. He who cen- 
 sures his own times, and is desirous of improving them, must 
 first himself be truly better than they; only he who possesses a 
 larger amount of wisdom, virtue and piety than is to be found in 
 real life, may presume to operate on life in arranging and trans- 
 forming it. 
 
 But, on the one hand, history shows us the gross corruption 
 and inward rottenness of Athenian life in Plato's times, and the 
 moral spotlessness, freshness, and strictness of his character ; 
 and, on the other hand, the study of his philosophy and philosophy 
 in general, enables us to perceive in him a greatness and clear- 
 ness of mind, a fulness and depth of knowledge and insight, 
 which we shall not find so united in any one of his contempo- 
 raries, and scarcely in any other sage of the ancient or modern 
 world. If we add to this his earnest piety, which preserved him 
 
80 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 from the impious improvisation of idealistic attempts at reform, 
 we cannot well doubt that from his nobility of mind and soul he 
 had power to fight with the sword of the spirit against the evil 
 and perishable for the true and eternal. 
 
 The case is quite otherwise in an intellectual and moral point 
 of view, with our ordinary idealists. They think the good, but 
 they have and do it not. Their thought stands in a melancholy 
 disproportion to their being and w r ill ; it stretches up heaven- 
 wards, it hovers around above the stars, while the rest of the 
 man lies stunted on the earth, and, from its incompleteness and 
 weakness is unable to accomplish its purpose. Hence also their 
 ideals have not the pith and substance, which only a heart 
 divinely animated, and moral integrity, such as Plato had, could 
 give them ; and the reality, however bad and worthless it may 
 appear to such persons, is, in general, much better and more 
 rational than their one-sided and consumptive excogitations. 21 
 
 But in still another point is Plato diametrically opposed to 
 our ordinary idealizers ; viz., in his procedure in the formation 
 of ideals. Among the idealists the mode of proceeding is, for the 
 most part, arbitrary and subjective, while in Plato it is objective 
 and necessary. The ordinary idealist imagines all sorts of ideals, 
 such as he desires ; Plato presents none but such ideas as present 
 themselves persistently in his closest course of thinking as the 
 most correct. However high the idealist may raise himself — 
 his ideals are still to be found only within his subjectivity and 
 the images appertaining to it ; they are creatures of his subjec- 
 tive thinking, which do not exist in reality. But Plato's highest 
 endeavour is directed to the knowledge of that, not w T hich he 
 thinks to he, but which is really, true and good ; 22 he is clearly 
 conscious that he has not invented his ideas within his subjec- 
 tivity, but has perceived them beyond this, in their objective 
 and real existence. Plato is consequently not so much a maker 23 
 
 21 Eep. 5. 458. a, b. Cf. Rep. 7, 529. a, b. [ii. pp. 142, 218 sq.], where 
 1 those who gape upwards ' are ridiculed. 
 
 22 Conv. 211. a. [iii. p. 551]. 23 Rep. 10, 596. b. [ii. p. 285]. 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 81 
 
 as a seer 24 of ideals ; and hence, while the characteristic mark 
 of our ordinary ideals is their non-existence in reality, so the 
 characteristic mark of his consists in just the reverse, their ex- 
 istence and real entity. The probable objection, that it has not 
 been granted to any philosopher to attain to the intuition of the 
 objectively true, does not lessen or alter the above stated differ- 
 ence. However the case may be with the objectivity of know- 
 ledge — this remains beyond dispute, that the ordinary idealists 
 not only themselves confess the unreality of their ideals, but are 
 even accustomed to commend loudly this non-existence as the 
 best proof of the supernatural splendour of their ideals ; while 
 Plato ever labours, with all the powers of his mind, to prove the 
 existence of his originals and their possible realization in real 
 life. It is therefore certain that if Plato is to be called an 
 idealist, it must be in a sense quite different to that usually con- 
 nected with the word ; and that the view still cherished by many 
 is utterly false, according to which this earnest and careful in- 
 quirer is considered an over-heated enthusiast and dreamer. 25 
 
 Those who have most frequently called Plato an idealist, 
 have not for the most part desired thereby to disparage, so much 
 as to honour, him. We have deemed it necessary to protest 
 against this kind of honorary recognition, or at least, to allow it 
 to pass only conditionally. But it is not less necessary to turn 
 now also to those who have really misconstrued and disparaged 
 Plato, and to show how unfounded are the representations by 
 which they have injured him in the public opinion. 
 
 There has proceeded namely, from the declared opposers of 
 Plato, a depreciative judgment concerning the scientific value 
 of his philosophy, which is now pretty firmly established among 
 a large part of the public. A double reproach has been chiefly 
 brought upon it, that it is too syncretic, and that it is too imagi- 
 native. 
 
 24 Phaedr. 247. e. [i. p. 324]. 
 
 25 See especially Rep. 7, 540. a. sq. [ii. p. 230], on the period necessary 
 to the attainment of the highest ideals. 
 
 6 
 
82 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 Even in antiquity, some malevolent persons were so bold as 
 to charge Plato with syncretism and plagiarism. Accordingly, 
 he is said at one time to have brought his wisdom from Egypt 
 and the Egyptian priests ; at another time, they make him out to 
 be a disciple who plundered his master, Pythagoras, 26 or Hera- 
 clitus, or Protagoras, 27 at another, they adduce even Epichar- 
 mus, 28 or some other predecessor, as the source from which he 
 drew, without naming it ; and far from duly recognizing the 
 organic connection throughout the rise and completion of his 
 philosophy, they are indeed so bold as to attribute to it a 
 mixed character, and to regard it as a motley juxtaposition of 
 various elements and parts of systems. 
 
 Yet, in the history of philosophy and literature, a special at- 
 tention or categorical refutation has never been vouchsafed to 
 such charges. And rightly ! For they bear their intrinsic 
 emptiness too plainly on their front, to render such a refutation 
 necessary. They have, in fact, long since collapsed ; and at the 
 present day, no one any longer seriously believes that Plato de- 
 ceived the world with the splendour of a great light, which he 
 did not himself possess, but purloined from another. 
 
 The correct view of the matter may be this, that it would be 
 as false to deny to the Platonic philosophy an accession of ma- 
 terials for ideas from without, as it would be unreasonable to 
 depreciate the intellectual greatness of Plato on account of his 
 reception of these materials. That is perfectly correct, and 
 beyond all doubt, which Eitter has especially placed in a proper 
 light, that Plato not only possessed and displayed more originality 
 of mind than any other, but that his philosophy is also a genuine 
 
 26 Diog. La. 8, 15. Especially is he said to have plundered the dearly- 
 bought writings of Philolaus. Cf. Gell. Noct. Att. 3, 17. That PlatoPs 
 philosophy is rooted in part in Pythagorean and Heraclitic philosophemes, 
 as also Aristotle (Met. I, 6) says, cannot be denied, but is not prejudicial 
 to his reputation for originality, i 
 I 27 Euseb. Praep. Ev. 10, 3. 
 
 28 Diog. La. vit. Plat. The passages which he quotes from Epicharmus, 
 certainly do express quite Platonic thoughts. 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 83 
 
 product of Hellenism, and presents most distinctly the character 
 of Hellenism. But we must not consider this originality and 
 Hellenism as absolute limits which separate and exclude all 
 else. The powerful originality of the Platonic mind is rather 
 so to be conceived of, as that Plato, although taking up and 
 working into himself the whole mass of philosophical knowledge 
 and inquiry which preceded him, was by no means a mere 
 follower of his predecessors, but as an independent thinker, 
 uniting these elements with his own ideas in an organic method, 
 created and fashioned a new and peculiar philosophy. And 
 though the Hellenic feeling and spirit may be by far the most 
 predominant in his philosophy, yet the gentle breathing also of 
 another spirit in it cannot be disputed, whose origin was un- 
 deniably in the East. Who then would explain so mechanically 
 the occurrence of the religious philosopheme of the Orient in 
 Plato's works, as though Plato, like a modern scholar, had 
 studied and excerpted all sorts of exotic books ? The Oriental 
 influences on his mind are, on the contrary, to be derived first 
 and chiefly from the intellectual atmosphere of Hellenic life ; 
 for this atmosphere, since the times of Orpheus and Pytha- 
 goras, had been penetrated and fertilized by ideas from the East. 
 Of greater consequence than that old, empty charge, that 
 Plato was a syncretist, is the reproach that he is a phantast. 
 For the former may be considered as almost unknown, but the 
 latter is still loudly expressed and extensively credited. As a 
 legend propagates itself by tradition among a large part of the 
 public, so Plato's reputation is founded not so much on the 
 scientific value and bearing of his philosophy — for, in a scientific 
 regard, it shows many weaknesses and crudities, — but rather on 
 some brilliant peculiarities of his mind and style. Plato is more 
 of a poet than a thinker, 29 more of a genial than a philosophical 
 mind. A severe scientific investigation, a constant, systematic 
 
 29 That Plato occupied himself much with poetry in his youth, and 
 attempted all kinds of poetic composition is of course set forth in support of 
 this view. Diog. La. v., etc. Ael. Yar. hist. 2, 30. 
 
84 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 progress in the course of thought, is not his affair. He resigns 
 himself rather to the bold flight of his fiery fancy, which is the 
 most prevailing and most distinguished faculty of his mind. To 
 this faculty he is principally indebted for his richness in ideas, 
 views, ingenious thoughts and images, — the abundance of which 
 is manifest in his works ; and these, in fact, often sublime 
 thoughts and new and surprising flashes of intellect must be 
 considered the chief profit to be drawn from the study of his 
 works ; and that which lends to his writings their special charm, 
 is the brilliant eloquence and classic refinement with which the 
 thoughts are presented. 
 
 How often do we hear this view expressed as doubtless the 
 most correct by those who know no more of Plato's writings 
 than their titles ! How many of those who are somewhat more 
 intimately acquainted with his works, who always regard him 
 and his philosophy only through these spectacles, and then 
 fearlessly and confidently maintain : i Yes, this in fact is the 
 case with Plato and his philosophy I' 
 
 But the case is in fact a little different from this. That 
 Plato possesses a rich and lively fancy is certainly not a subject 
 of doubt. But that this renders him more fit for a poet than a 
 philosopher is an error. Of itself, fancy hinders no man in a 
 clear perception of the truth, but only when there is no true 
 equipoise between it and the other powers of the mind, and 
 when the consciousness is unable to maintain its calm circum- 
 spection in the midst of the other mental activities, and its 
 secure dominion over them. There are, of course, feeble minds 
 enough, in which the centre is only too easily overpowered by 
 the excitements and agitations of the periphery, and whose 
 kernel of consciousness does not remain clear and firm under 
 the influence of in-coming thoughts, but is coloured and affected, 
 and even entirely carried away. By such fanciful persons, 
 whose whole thought and action are governed by their exces- 
 sive power of imagination, fancy has come into bad repute, as 
 piety by hypocrites. Such minds are naturally incapable of 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 85 
 
 true philosophical inquiry, although, in such exalted mental 
 conditions they not infrequently strike on thoughts as new as 
 they are correct and suggestive. But what they gain and 
 bestow in this manner is not so much logical perceptions and 
 judgments as happy thoughts and combinations. 
 
 But the Platonic philosophy is certainly not woven of such 
 materials. He must be a bungler in the art of philosophical 
 weaving, who, studying earnestly Plato's philosophy, does not 
 very soon become aware of the exact contrary of this, and who 
 does not with deep reverence recognize the severe strength of 
 his philosophical mind and his dialectic method. In truth, if 
 any one can lay claim to sharp, logical, severely close thinking, 
 it is Plato, as will be clearly evinced in the following chapter. 
 But because Plato, so soon as he has completed his inward in- 
 tellectual labour, and has fully developed the idea of the sub- 
 ject which he wishes to present, and closely grasped it in all 
 its points, does not allow the severity of abstract thinking to 
 govern his presentation, but rather allows that which he has 
 philosophically elaborated, to appear in the poetic form of 
 dialogue, as a light and free play of the thoughts, this mainly has 
 induced not a few to create the suspicion, whether Plato pos- 
 sessed a properly philosophical faculty. Now, in fact, we might 
 thus, in the end, bring into doubt the anatomical skill of the 
 Creator, because, in the most beautiful images of His hand we 
 do not generally discern the skeleton and plan which they have 
 within them and according to which they were formed. 
 
 Plato a phantast! — he, who not only thoroughly studied 
 the mathematics, but always manifested an unusual strength in 
 mathematical discipline, and urged its cultivation everywhere 
 with the greatest zeal ! 30 
 
 The groundlessness of the widely extended prejudice against 
 Plato's imaginative character has really been already frequently 
 proved by careful inquirers ; and not a few passages might be 
 
 30 Rep. 7, 527. b, c. [ii. p. 216]. Hence also the much discussed in- 
 scription on his school. Cf. Phil. 66. a. [iv. p. 107]. 
 
86 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 quoted from his works which have attacked and combated this 
 prejudice with sharper weapons than are mine. Yet, perhaps, 
 our opponents would confess no convincing power to such testi- 
 monies and refutations, however they might be accumulated, 
 because, as they would say, they have proceeded, for the most 
 part, from such admirers and friends of Plato as are them- 
 selves abundantly gifted with a lively imagination. 
 
 And so here only a single competent combatting of this 
 view may be introduced, instead of all others, which proceeds 
 from an inquirer whom no one would think of charging with 
 being gifted with a fiery imagination or predilection for the 
 fanciful, I mean the diligent, honestly dry, and thorough 
 Tennemann, who thus expresses himself concerning Plato and 
 the assorted prevalence of fancy in him : — ' If we regard the 
 talents of Plato . . . he is a single phenomenon of his 
 kind in antiquity, and we shall scarcely find, in modern times, a 
 man who could be placed beside him in his entire individuality. 
 He united in himself peculiarities of mind, which, taken singly, 
 occur here and there in a higher degree, but have never been 
 excelled in their union and beautiful harmony. The first talent, 
 which manifested itself earliest in him, is the power of imagi- 
 nation, distinguished on the side of compass, vivacity, and 
 strength. . . . But he had yet another talent, which was 
 no whit behind the first in pre-eminence, viz., the gift of in- 
 dependent thought, an ever active spirit of inquiry, acuteness, 
 and profoundness of mind in a high degree. With all his 
 strength of imagination, his power of thought was still superior. 
 The latter rules the former, prescribes the limits, the objects, 
 and the manner, for and in which it is to manifest itself. . . . 
 That Plato was no enthusiast, his interest in mathematical 
 science alone proves.' It would be far easier to bring about an 
 understanding concerning the asserted bad influence of Plato's 
 fancy on his philosophical judgment, if strange and distorted 
 conceptions of the value and significance of fancy generally 
 had not insinuated themselves among us. We not only very 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 87 
 
 frequently exchange fancy, presentative power and imagination 
 with each other, but we are also accustomed, by wise education 
 from youth up, to give fancy credit for little that is good, and 
 to consider it as a dangerous juggler, who deprives honest 
 people of their little judgment before they are aware. With 
 the word fancy, we connect involuntarily the ideas of falsehood 
 and deceit. We are afterwards confirmed in these sensible 
 thoughts when we hear a lecture on psychology, and learn to 
 distribute the different faculties in elegant order into their 
 respective fobs. And, so the longer we live, the more is this 
 idea fixed in us, and we are even more terrified by the words, 
 1 the fancy is loose,' than when we are told, ' the devil is loose.' 
 
 The superabundance of fancy, in some persons, can no more 
 tend to the injury of this mental faculty itself, or lessen its 
 value, than fire loses its value, because children and fools so 
 easily get burnt by it. If we have cause to disapprove of the 
 fancy in this or that individual, we must be cautious of break- 
 ing our rod over fancy in general. We must not imagine that 
 the different faculties of the mind, in different individuals, are 
 all cut out by an uniform pattern, and that hence we may know 
 what the judgment and fancy are in this or that individual, so 
 soon as we have obtained a general idea of what are usually 
 called judgment and fancy. We must never forget that every 
 intellectual power, in every intellectual life, is at the same time 
 conditioning and conditioned, and that hence the possession of 
 fancy by one is and signifies something quite different from its 
 possession by another. We must come to the rational insight, 
 that among all the mental faculties, when the other favourable 
 conditions are secured, none reaches further, or operates more 
 significantly, than fancy, and that the so-called reason raises 
 itself to true rationality and mental clearness only to the degree 
 that it is capable of becoming fancy. 
 
 All those poor wretches, who live in their blind alleys, from 
 which frequently they do not emerge their whole life long, and 
 make boots and shoes for daily supply and trade, live on and 
 
88 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 work on that which those have apprehended and laboriously 
 gained, whose fancy they bravely abuse. For the great, solid, 
 substantial and objective, is apprehended and known in no 
 other way than by the lively elevation of fancy in a clear and 
 thoughtful mind. Now, since by this it has come into history, 
 and has been borne by its stream through all sorts of channels 
 of culture, even into the blind alleys, those narrow-minded per- 
 sons boastingly say, that they have searched it out and dis- 
 covered it by their sound common sense ! 
 
 We found ourselves compelled, in order to render possible a 
 fair and impartial consideration of Plato and his philosophy, to 
 secure him as well from his friends as from his enemies, and to 
 deliver him from the praise of the false enthusiasm of the 
 former and the one-sided and prejudiced criticism of the latter. 
 If we trace that enthusiasm and this criticism to the first and 
 oldest sources from which they have proceeded, we meet with 
 the former in the New Platonists, and with the latter in Aris- 
 totle. Both, though from opposite sides, have much injured 
 the Platonic philosophy and the judgment concerning it ; the 
 former, by setting too high a value on it and corrupting it ; the 
 latter, by misconstruing and decrying it. We must, therefore, 
 seek to render the relation of both to it as clear as possible. 
 
 New Platonism has been often supposed to be in the closest 
 connection with the philosophy of Plato, as if both were, so to 
 speak, in one continuous line, without perceptible interruption. 
 The former was regarded as a second, more extended and 
 enlarged edition of the latter ; for this view of the relation of 
 the New Platonists to the head and master of their school, 
 appeared to have proceeded from the history of philosophy 
 itself. The observation, namely, obtruded itself, that, especially 
 in the middle ages, all the minds who attached themselves 
 to Plato had been gained for him through New Platonism. 
 Since, therefore, in Plato's disciples, both systems, the Platonic 
 and the New Platonic, existed almost indifferently with and in 
 each other, it was natural that others, who had less interest in 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 89 
 
 obtaining an exact knowledge of pure Platonism, were ac- 
 customed to regard it as something not essentially different 
 from New Platonism. Whence much censure, on their part, 
 has been directed against Plato, which ought to have been 
 directed against the New Platonists. 
 
 More modern inquiries have fully proved the essential 
 difference between them; and so, then, the strict requisition 
 must be laid on every one who would come to, or pronounce a 
 decision concerning Plato, that he do not again mingle things 
 which have been shown not to belong to each other. It is 
 enough for our purpose to indicate a few points from which 
 this difference may be plainly recognized. 
 
 New Platonism arose, as is well known, in Alexandria, at 
 the end of the second century after Christ. The place and 
 the time of its origin and the polemic tendency which it very 
 soon assumed, are sufficient to lead to the presumption that it 
 must not be considered a reproduction or continued develop- 
 ment of the Platonic philosophy. In Alexandria were mingled 
 not only nations, but opinions. Oriental, Jewish, Greek, 
 Eoman, and Egyptian elements flowed in and through the 
 mental culture of Alexandria. This was a time of universal 
 fermentation and dissolution ; a time, when the old indi- 
 vidualities of the then world -historic nations were almost 
 wholly extinct, when the adoption of foreign ideas and ele- 
 ments no longer took place in the organic method, by assimi- 
 lation, but wholly in the chemical way, by amalgamation. 
 This was eminently the case in Egypt, in general, and in 
 Alexandria, in particular. What else could succeed, in such 
 circumstances, but a forcible combination into one whole of 
 opposing fragments ? 
 
 New Platonism is a combination of this kind. The New 
 Platonists have been denominated, after the example of the 
 church fathers, Eclectics. This denomination, however, is not 
 quite appropriate. For, with the idea of Eclecticism is always 
 connected the conception of a certain calm, dispassionate taste, 
 
90 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY: 
 
 which selects from different views, placed side by side, those 
 most agreeable to it. But the New Platonists did not form 
 their systems thus. They did not arise in a dry, but a fiery 
 manner. An impassioned fire formed them from the chaotic 
 condition of the then philosophy. The glow of enthusiasm is 
 not only not to be denied to New Platonism, but it was un- 
 questionably its plastic principle. 
 
 The glowing enthusiasm of the New Platonists was greatly 
 heightened by their contest with Christianity. It must be 
 remembered that New Platonism strove after nothing less than 
 the dominion of the world ; and for this it contended with 
 Christianity. It depended not merely on scientific and phi- 
 losophical importance, but eminently also on religious value and 
 efficiency. It sought, by purifying and renovating heathenism, 
 to procure it the victory over the (to the Hellenes) scanda- 
 lous religion of a Crucified One. It is well known how the 
 Emperor Julian endeavoured to terminate the struggle in 
 favour of New Platonism. The character and culture of this 
 man indicate, besides, that so slight an intellectual value is not 
 to be attributed to New Platonism as is frequently done, by 
 inconsiderately despatching it with a few distinguished phrases, 
 as, 6 productions of heated and over-strained minds,' and others 
 of the same sort. 
 
 With all its monstrous and fanciful excrescences, there 
 cannot be refused to New Platonism a profound and rich 
 spirituality ; and if we compare the Theologumena of the New 
 Platonists with those of the Christians of that time, it is soon 
 perceived that as much effort and self-command is required to 
 comprehend and belie vingly adopt many of the former as some 
 of the latter, and that the Platonic Theology, as a whole, has a 
 certain intellectual distinction and deportment, a noble strain 
 and tone in advance. of the Christian dogmatics of those times, 
 which, under awkward hands, turned out somewhat massive 
 and clumsy. The Euneads of Plotinus, the most important of 
 all the New Platonists, take a very honourable place in the 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 91 
 
 history of the human mind, and give highly original flashes of 
 light as well on divine things as on human endeavours. 
 
 That winch characterizes New Platonism chiefly on the 
 side of religion, which is the most important for us, is its 
 Theosophy 31 and Theurgy. 32 Both of these apparently had 
 their origin in the East. 33 Every one who is only moderately 
 acquainted with these things knows that this effeminate and 
 voluptuous kind of divine illumination and piety is especially 
 at home in India, and that the formulas of conjuration, by 
 which it is pretended that the divine powers can be made sub- 
 servient to the human will, form a principal constituent of the 
 Asiatic religions. With the Theosophy are connected the 
 Pantheistic and emanational ideas of New Platonism, and the 
 necessary consequence of the Theurgy is an extraordinary 
 cultivation of the doctrine of Daemons. 
 
 These few indications are sufficient to place us in a con- 
 dition to recognize and designate the essential difference be- 
 es C5 
 
 tween Plato and the New Platonist. In Plato there is not 
 the slightest trace of Theurgy and Theosophy, which are most 
 prominent in New Platonism. Plato declaims, in the strongest 
 manner, as we have seen, against the illusion of men, that by 
 various arts they can bring the gods under their will ; repre- 
 senting this delusion, that the gods are to be reached like men, 
 by bribing their passions, as the fruitful source of all irreligion 
 and wickedness. 34 His theology is as free from all dainties 
 
 31 Porphyrins relates that Plotinus was, during his life, four times in 
 glorified union with God. Porph. vit. Plot. c. 14. 18. 
 
 32 For the TJieurgio writings of Porph., see in Suidas. s. v. Cf. Aug. 
 C. Dei. 10, 9. 10. Jamblichus' work de Myst. -<Eg. is, in truth, nothing 
 but a compendium of Theurgy. Marinus commended Proclus for his 
 Theurgy. Remarkable example of an inquisition, in this respect, in Amm. 
 Marc. 29, 1. 
 
 33 For this reason also Plotinus went with Gordian to Persia, in order 
 to draw directly from the fountain-head. A hint of the Oriental sources 
 of Jambl. deMyst. 1,2. 
 
 34 Eep. 2, 364. c. 3, 390. d. [ii. pp. 43,70]. Legg. 10. 905. d. [v. 
 p. 444]. 
 
92 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 and exstasies as the pure beam of light is from the varying and 
 glowing play of colours. He certainly agrees with the New 
 Platonists in declaring the intuition and apprehension of the 
 divine to be the highest aim of philosophical life ; but he di- 
 verges from them significantly, by assuming the possibility of 
 this immediate intuition only after death ; 35 while the New 
 Platonists constructed a formal theory of the manner in which 
 a man, while still on earth, may enter by the spirit into 
 heaven and into immediate communion with God — exstasies and 
 trances form the chief constituent of their religious life. The 
 whole theory of emanations was entirely foreign to Plato ; and, 
 although Pantheism has been discovered, in his view of the 
 universe, yet in him it is neither expressed so clearly and 
 decidedly, nor so fully carried out and brought to bear, as in 
 the New Platonists. The Platonic demonology has certainly 
 much in common with the New Platonic ; but, in their meaning 
 as a whole, and their main tendency, they are essentially different 
 from each other : for, while with the New Platonists the mean- 
 ing is really cosmological and theological, in Plato the demons 
 have rather a logical and ethical significance. In the former, 
 it is properly the demoniac nature which the demons manifest 
 and in which they appear ; in the latter, however, under the 
 name of demon, lies rather a philosophical idea, viz., as we 
 have seen, the idea indispensable to Plato, of an intermediate 
 being. 36 Plato made room for demons in his philosophy, less 
 for their own sake than for the sake of this idea ; the demoniac 
 nature, as such, the physical and metaphysical, inward and 
 outward relations of demons, are, for him, of too little import- 
 ance for him to concern himself further with them. 
 
 The time and kind of origin, moreover, forms an important 
 
 35 Phaed. 66. e. [i. p. 65]. Hence also Plato sets so nigh a virtue on 
 science, in opposition to the New Platonists, who pretended that they 
 learned more by their exstasies. 
 
 36 Conv. 202. d. sq. 203. a. [iii. pp. 533-4]. Epin. 984. c. [vi. p. 22~\. 
 Cf . Proclus Theol. Plat. 1, 12 ; 5, 23, etc. 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 93 
 
 difference between New Platonism and the Platonic Philosophy. 
 For, while the former is radically of a bastard and cosmopoli- 
 tan character, the latter, as we saw, presents itself as a genuine 
 production of the Hellenic and Attic mind. 
 
 The contest of New Platonism with Christianity must, 
 naturally, have operated powerfully in the divergence of the 
 former from the peculiarities of Platonism. For, since the 
 former unfolded itself in a different opposition to Christianity 
 from the latter, it necessarily also took different directions, 
 developed and set forth other dogmas. And, since Christianity, 
 notwithstanding its relationship to Platonism, possesses, never- 
 theless, germs and parts which differ from it throughout, New 
 Platonism was necessitated, as it wished to be equal, and even 
 beforehand with Christianity, to provide itself with surrogates, 
 which were wholly incompatible with the original essence of 
 Platonism. 
 
 Moreover, in this very contest of New Platonism with Chris- 
 tianity, lies a strong confirmation of the universal assump- 
 tion, that there were Christian elements in the old Platonic 
 way of thinking. For the opinion, that it also could give to 
 the world what Christianity wished to afford it, was the chief 
 motive of the New Platonists in this contest ; and although, on 
 the one hand, by additions and false renderings, they often 
 transformed Platonism till it was irrecognizable, yet, on the 
 other hand, it cannot be denied that they were zealous to adopt 
 its entire contents, and supported the new scion on the old stock. 
 
 Thus approximately must the partly kindred and partly 
 antagonistic relation between Platonism and New Platonism be 
 apprehended and conceived of ; and thus it will become clear, 
 that it is entirely incorrect to suppose extravagance and fanati- 
 cism to be characteristic of the Platonic Philosophy, because they 
 stand out plainly enough as the chief peculiarity of New 
 Platonism. 
 
 Let us now turn to the calumniation of Plato, which pro- 
 ceeded from Aristotle, or, at least, found its principal support 
 
94 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 in him. For twenty years did Aristotle, one of the clearest 
 and sharpest critics that ever lived, enjoy Plato's instruction. 
 He has, consequently, the double presumption in his favour in 
 judging the Platonic system, of fundamental knowledge of it 
 and adequate ability. How then, does the great Aristotle de- 
 cide concerning the almost deified Plato ? Most unfavourably. 
 He corrects him, directs against him his polemics and persi- 
 flage ; 37 and although he agrees with him in several points, and 
 even in some cases though proceeding from quite opposite 
 points, arrives at the same results, yet the systems of these men 
 are so entirely different in their whole spirit and structure, that 
 their relation to each other can only be regarded and designated 
 as that of polarity. 
 
 Now, if Aristotle was necessitated, on philosophical grounds, 
 to contradict Plato so variously, and to strike out quite a dif- 
 ferent path in order to obtain a tenable system of philosophy, 
 we .must then indeed believe that Plato wandered from the 
 truth, and erected his system on a foundation which is deficient 
 in real strength. And so that old charge, brought by Aristotle 
 himself, will be found correct, that Plato poetizes more than he 
 thinks?* and that the soaring-power of his fancy conferred 
 those lines of argument which should have proceeded from 
 rational insight, and ought to have, been supported on definite 
 conceptions. 
 
 From views and expressions such as these have proceeded, 
 as is well known, the most violent contests between Platonists 
 and Aristotelians. This is not the place for their history. 
 But we must seek to inquire into and apprehend the point of 
 reconciliation between these intense antagonisms, in order that 
 from this we may apprehend, without hindrance, the greatness 
 of both heroes, and thereby, at the same time restore the injured 
 philosophic dignity of Plato. 
 
 57 Anal. post. 1.11, 19., Nat. ausc. 4, 4. Eth. Eud. 2, 8. Eth.Mc.1,4. Mel 
 1, 7. 3. 2 ; 7. 14-16 ; 8, 6 ; 11, 4. 5. 12. (in the Paris ed. of Arist. 1654). 
 38 Arist. Met. 11, 5. 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 95 
 
 The oft renewed contests between Platonists and Aristo- 
 telians could not lead to peace and a good understanding, 
 because each party proceeded mainly on the principle of de- 
 stroying the authority of their opponents. The Platonists 
 laboured to depreciate Aristotle, and the Aristotelians were 
 zealously engaged in disparaging Plato. And both failed of 
 their object. Plato's greatness remained as undiminished as 
 that of Aristotle. Accordingly, if insight in this relation is to 
 be rendered possible, it must be firmly held through all the 
 future, that it is absolute perverseness and folly to consider the 
 estimation and recognition of the one impossible without the 
 neglecting of the other. We can only arrive at a proper judg- 
 ment concerning both, by proceeding on the clear consciousness 
 of the equal necessity and equal value of both. 
 
 But how can we arrive at this consciousness ? 
 
 First, by regarding the equally noble and widely extended 
 influence of both men on the intellectual department of life. 
 
 Plato and Aristotle stand in antiquity, like the pillars of 
 Hercules, beyond which it was not granted to the spirit of in- 
 quiry of the ancient world to proceed ; and they will remain 
 for all time, the axes, around which all speculative powers and 
 interests will for ever collect and revolve. All philosophizing 
 belongs, in its meaning and spirit, either more to the Platonic 
 or more to the Aristotelian school; and a philosophy could 
 scarcely arise which should contain in itself both antitheses in 
 perfectly equal proportions. 
 
 This importance of both systems, which is continued to the 
 present, with equal strength, gives us reason to conclude that 
 both are equally valuable and equally necessary to the great 
 course of history of intellectual development. 
 
 This will be seen more definitely by the following con- 
 sideration. 
 
 If we would correctly judge the intellectually great, and 
 weigh them against each other, we must proceed on the biblical 
 principle, as decidedly the most correct, of judging the indi- 
 
96 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 vidualities ; we must learn to apprehend and estimate after 
 the analogy of the Creator, ( everything after its kind' (Gen. 
 i. 21). Accordingly, we must not bring to our judgment of 
 Plato the silly presumption, that he is to think and write like 
 Aristotle ; and we must not ineptly require of Aristotle, that 
 he shall possess and present Platonic ideas. Let us rather 
 allow each of them to influence us, as he is, then we cannot 
 fail to receive from each the full impression of the good and 
 excellent after its kind. If we allow each the same right of 
 being construed from his own stand-point and his own prin- 
 ciples, as to his philosophical knowledge, we must then confess, 
 that each after his kind has accomplished that which can 
 scarcely be surpassed. 
 
 But this designation : Each after his kind — includes and 
 plainly expresses a certain one-sidedness of each, a certain re- 
 strictedness to that which suits him best. Each of them at- 
 tained the summit of excellence by seizing and toiling with his 
 whole energy after that only which was most in accordance 
 with his own idiosyncracy ; neither of them would have become 
 great as a model, if he had not moved exclusively in the sphere 
 most congenial to him. This exclusiveness is therefore not a 
 subject of reproach, but of commendation. For this is the con- 
 dition of all creaturely performances in the production of the 
 solid and excellent. In vain does an instinct, led astray by 
 vanity, toil to attain the goal of perfection which is not set for 
 it, but to which genius easily leads another.. 
 
 Consequently, it is clear, that however excellent and solid is 
 the Platonic Philosophy, and not less so that of Aristotle, yet 
 each of them is so only because it is not, and has not what the 
 other is and has ; each shows to the beholder a peculiar excel- 
 lence which is wanting to the other. Since now both have 
 arisen not only together, with or after each other, and have 
 maintained themselves continually in equal respect and in- 
 fluence, but since each also, regarded in itself, lays well-founded 
 claims to an equal degree of recognition of its peculiar great- 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 97 
 
 ness, it is then certain, being proved by the facts, that for phi- 
 losophy in general they are of equal value and of equal necessity, 
 but that the Aristotelian philosophy would not at all have arisen 
 nor have equalled the Platonic in its powerful agency, if the 
 Platonic were to be regarded as the fullest, most comprehen- 
 sive, and most correct expression of philosophy in general. But 
 each presents only one side and tendency of general philosophi- 
 cal knowledge and endeavour; and neither in Aristotelianism 
 nor in Platonism has this knowledge completely culminated or 
 arrived at the perfection and rounding out of all its parts. 
 
 From this objective relation of the philosophers to science 
 and the history of the world, is to be best explained the sub- 
 jective relation which existed between their authors. This was, 
 as we have remarked, by no means a friendly one. Granted 
 that most of the anecdotes relating to their reciprocal hostility 
 were invented, yet it cannot be denied that they were accustomed 
 to treat each other with a certain coldness and irony. This is 
 quite intelligible after what has been adduced above. Both 
 were, on account of their opposite tendencies and tasks, entirely 
 incapable of estimating each other in the true sense of the word. 
 Aristotle did not understand Plato, and Plato could hardly have 
 understood Aristotle, if he had read his writings. 
 
 This opinion will be offensive to many. How, it will be 
 asked, does it harmonize, that Plato and Aristotle are called the 
 greatest philosophers, and yet are declared to be incapable of 
 estimating arid understanding each other % And how can it be 
 said, especially of Aristotle, that he spoke so unfavourably of the 
 Platonic philosophy, from a mere want of understanding of it f 
 how can this be said of him, who, it is acknowledged, possessed 
 a most acute and penetrating intellect % 
 
 This objection or scruple will vanish immediately so soon as 
 we recognize the simple, but for the history of science, highly 
 important truth : that every mind can only understand, in the 
 most comprehensive sense of the word, that which it is in a 
 condition organically to produce and reproduce in itself. This 
 
98 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 living shooting or flashing up of a foreign idea in one's own 
 innermost consciousness is the proper understanding, all else is 
 an understanding only of shadows and words, not an intellectual 
 sense of the substance on which they depend. To understand 
 is of two kinds. The words, which Paul has written, any scholar 
 may learn to translate and comment on ; but he cannot and may 
 not say that he has thus understood Paul ; for no one can do this, 
 who does not bear within him a Pauline mind and spirit. It 
 would be far better for our Exegesis and Theology, if theologians 
 would bring themselves to do homage to this truth. 
 
 Aristotle saw and apprehended always only the non- Aristo- 
 telian element in Plato ; that which was properly Platonic re- 
 mained to him intellectually foreign and unf athomed ; for, had it 
 formed itself livingly within his consciousness, his consciousness 
 must have ceased to be organized and conditioned as Aristotelian, 
 and must have become one like the Platonic. Aristotle could not 
 have become a Platonizing thinker, even if he had desired it.; 
 But he did not at all, and should not have desired it. For, had 
 he done so, he would have sinned against himself and the spirit 
 of history. His task, which he had to perform for history, was 
 quite different to that of Plato ; his highest endeavour ought to 
 be to fulfil his vocation, to accomplish his task. Now, the more 
 zealous and faithful he was in this endeavour, the farther 
 must he remove from the stand-point and endeavour of Plato, 
 since the spirit of science was to work in and through him exactly 
 that side of philosophy from which Plato had withdrawn. Pe- 
 - cognizing in his clear mind, both that the cultivation of this side 
 was highly important and essential, and also that this side of 
 knowledge was only indicated in Platonism, and appeared, so to 
 speak, only as an undeveloped rudiment, the neglect of that 
 which seemed to him most important, could not fail to vex him 
 somewhat, and to lead him to pronounce an unfavourable judg- 
 ment on Plato's philosophical performances. It was not a mere 
 paltry self-sufficiency which produced his in part harsh criticism 
 of Platonism ; it was rather the proper feeling of h;s own great- 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 99 
 
 ness, capacity, and obligation. For, every one who accomplishes 
 the excellent in his kind, can properly have no other or higher 
 idea of the excellent, than that according to which he himself 
 labours and creates ; because, that which he does would not be 
 excellent if formed according to another, and not his own con- 
 ception of excellence. Hence also, every master will silently 
 expect or desire, that all who wish to do something perfect, will 
 do it, as he does. Even Goethe and Schiller, though they took 
 so much pains to procure for and to do justice to each other, 
 could never entirely free themselves from silent assumptions of 
 this kind. Schiller thought the poetry of Goethe would be much 
 grander and more excellent if it were a little more Schillerish ; 
 and Goethe, on his side, was not less of opinion that Schiller's 
 performances would prove much better and more solid if they 
 had more of Goethe in them ; and the whole dispute between 
 the friends of Schiller and Goethe arises from nothing else but 
 an inflexible maintenance and blind pursuit of these easily ex- 
 plained and pardonable, but still entirely unallowable, requisi- 
 tions. Palm-branches are not to be broken off from cedar-stocks, 
 and Schiller is as little to be blamed for not writing like Goethe, 
 as Plato is to be reproached for not preaching Aristotelianism. 
 
 The understanding which we have in this manner obtained 
 in respect of the misunderstanding between Aristotle and Plato 
 can by no means however, as it now lies before us, be considered 
 complete and satisfactory. This it can only be, when it has 
 passed over from the abstract and general, as we now have it, 
 into the concrete, and into the sphere of a distinct conception. 
 This transition, we have now to effect or attempt; how the attempt 
 is to be made is sufficiently indicated in the task itself. We 
 must have a more special and definite perception than hereto- 
 fore, of the reason and necessity why Aristotle did not properly 
 understand Plato ; we must also see more clearly that Plato's 
 philosophical importance or greatness has suffered no essential 
 abatement by the partially unfavourable criticisms of Aristotle, 
 and that, consequently, those are in error who- suppose that the 
 
100 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 prejudices, which are still prevalent among us against the philo- 
 sophical value of Platonism, have a firm basis in the authority 
 of Aristotle. Both these will ensue so soon as the thorough he- 
 terogeneity of the two men is presented in clear and individual 
 traits, as the proximate reason of the existing misunderstanding, 
 and so soon as the indefinite notion, that they strove, and that ne- 
 cessarily, after entirely opposite ends in philosophy, has been 
 changed into a tangible fact. The effort to obtain more definite 
 knowledge, on these points, lies so near to the chief object of 
 our task — to discover the Christian element in Plato, — that 
 every advance in this examination is, at the same time, an ap- 
 proximation to our goal. 
 
 Rixner calls Aristotle Plato reversed ; and this title may be 
 justified in more than one respect. 
 
 Plato's manner of writing must be considered highly finished ; 
 style seems almost entirely neglected in Aristotle, and we may 
 say purposely. Aristotle wishes to form a contrast to Plato in 
 this respect ; and not from mere whim, but from philosophical 
 reasons. The creative spirit of Platonism requires the sensuous 
 beauty of language ; the sober criticism of Aristotle forbids it. 
 
 Plato is richly gifted with genial fancy ; in Aristotle this 
 is entirely wanting ; in the former, genius, in the most compre- 
 hensive sense of the word, is the most distinguished element ; 
 a most eminent and sound understanding characterizes the 
 latter ; hence, with the former, thought enters the regions of 
 the supernatural and mystical; while, with the latter, it remains 
 throughout rationalistic. 
 
 Plato finds his highest joy in the whole and the unit ; Aris- 
 totle in the mass and abundance of sharply defined particulars ; 
 the former raises himself above nature, the latter sinks himself 
 into her and into the observation of real objects ; the former 
 desires to contemplate and to be happy in pure contemplation ; 
 the latter wishes to learn, 39 and by ever learning something new, 
 
 39 Arist. Met. 1,1. The main difference between Plato and Aristotle 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 101 
 
 to afford himself unceasing pleasure; an insatiable appetite 
 urges him to collect knowledge and ideas, and every satisfaction 
 of this appetite affords him the highest enjoyment. 40 
 
 Plato's philosophy proceeds from certainty; 41 that of Aris- 
 totle aims to attain it ; in the former it forms the initial point 
 and origin of all knowledge, in the latter it is to be its final point, 
 and is to be shown to be the basis of knowledge ; the philosophy 
 of Plato mirrors the clearest and most joyous conviction ; the 
 philosophy of Aristotle presents a series of investigations, end- 
 ing in shrugging of the shoulders and resignation. Plato tes- 
 tifies of and to the truth ; Aristotle, ever unsatisfied, seeks and 
 inquires after it ; that which exists for the former, the latter 
 desires to prove to exist, without being able to do so ! 
 
 Plato has to do with the essential; Aristotle with the causal; 
 in the former, the contents and subject are the most important, in 
 the latter the form and method. Platonism is the unity of all 
 that was known by the ancient world ; from Aristotle proceeded 
 the laws of scientific inquiry for all time and all disciplines ; 
 Plato perfects and glorifies life ; Aristotle founds and rules the 
 school ; with Plato the development period of the philosophical 
 mind closes on the stage of synthesis of being and activity ; 
 with Aristotle begins the retrogressive course of independent ana- 
 lysis, 42 through all being and activity, in the sphere of reflection. 
 
 Plato philosophizes in the interest and in favour of senti 
 ment ; all philosophizing is hence for him only a means to an 
 end ; for Aristotle philosophizing is an end in itself, and he pur- 
 posely rends asunder the living bond between opinion and 
 
 may be rendered plain by tracing it to the two conceptions of science and 
 truth. These words have a totally different meaning in the two authors. 
 
 40 Plato called Aristotle, merely the Reader. 
 
 41 Rep. 7, 518. c. [ii. p. 206, sq.] 
 
 42 The expressions Synthesis and Analysis must not be understood as 
 referring chiefly or exclusively to the so-called synthetic and analytic me- 
 thods, for then it will be said that each used both. Here it is meant only 
 that Aristotle dissects and anatomizes, while Plato produces that which is 
 organic and living in the world of mind. 
 
102 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 knowledge ; in Platonism the religious element is innate, and 
 properly the living germ from which its whole life is developed, 
 Aristotle, in his elaborately finished scientific edifice, has con- 
 structed for himself a kind of theology, but of empty names and 
 conceptions. 
 
 These are neither new nor unproved propositions ; they have 
 often been laid down, furnished with complete proofs, in the 
 archives of philosophy and its history. The same thoughts may 
 be found there as here, only otherwise expressed. Whether 
 other thinkers have apprehended more sharply the essentiality 
 of this heterogeneity which has been discussed, and have ex- 
 pressed it more distinctly, by calling Plato the philosopher of 
 the reason, Aristotle that of the understanding ; by describing the 
 former as proceeding from the unconditioned to the conditioned, 
 and the latter the reverse ; by characterizing Platonism as in- 
 tellectualism, and Aristotelianism as empiricism, or numbering 
 Plato among the idealists, and Aristotle among the realist, etc. 
 etc., this remains to be decided by the critical acumen of the 
 reader, we will only add in conclusion to this attempted charac- 
 terization, the clear, and in the main, highly successful presenta- 
 tion of what has been said above, in which Goethe has portrayed 
 the two heroes of philosophy and their merits. 
 
 < Plato is related to the world as a spirit of the blest, who is 
 pleased for a time to be its guest. It is not so much his object 
 to become acquainted with it, because he already presupposes it, 
 as in a friendly manner to communicate that which he brings 
 with him, and which is so necessary to it. He penetrates the 
 depths more to fill them with his own being than to investigate 
 them. He raises himself to the heights with longing again to 
 participate in his original. All that he utters has reference to 
 an eternal whole, good, true, beautiful, whose claim he strives 
 to excite in every bosom. That which he appropriates to him- 
 self in particulars of worldly knowledge, dissolves, we might say, 
 evaporates, in his method, in his statement. 
 
 ' Aristotle, on the other hand, stands related to the world as a 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 103 
 
 man, as a master-builder. Since lie is here, here will he do and 
 work. He inquires with reference to the ground, but only 
 until he finds a good foundation to all the rest. From this to the 
 middle of the earth, he is indifferent. He draws around an im- 
 mense foundation-circle for his edifice, procures materials from 
 all sides, arranges them, piles them up, and thus mounts on high 
 in regular pyramidal form, while Plato seeks the sky like an 
 obelisk or pointed flame.' 43 
 
 It must now have become more evident than before, how it 
 was, and could not be otherwise, that Aristotle found no special 
 pleasure in the philosophy of Plato, and censured that most 
 which he understood least. That which Plato expressed as re- 
 cognized truth, never came into the sight of Aristotle, because 
 
 O 3 O 7 
 
 he never looked whither Plato's eyes were unintermittingly 
 directed, and because that never revealed itself to his differently 
 organized vision, which shone first into the eye of Plato's mind. 
 How then could Aristotle concede to Plato, that he enounced 
 the truth, when he spoke of things, which, for him, did not exist ! 
 The doctrine of Ideas forms the kernel of the Platonic philo- 
 sophy; Aristotle's strongest polemic is directed against these 
 ideas, and he is happy in the illusion that he has proved most 
 convincingly their emptiness and absolute untenableness. 44 But 
 in fact, by his war of extermination against them, he has de- 
 stroyed nothing but the coarse vessel of clay which his somewhat 
 clumsy imagination had made of the Platonic ideas. Aristotle, 
 seeking and seeing nothing but conceptions and causes, appre- 
 hended the ideas of Plato in no other than the conceptional form 
 of the causal, and thus he certainly could not fail of acquiring 
 a strong detestation of these logical spectres. 
 
 43 Raphael has well characterized the two philosophers in his School at 
 Athens, by representing Plato as gazing with enthusiasm towards heaven, 
 Aristotle as looking down sharply to the earth. 
 
 44 Anal. post. 1, 19. Cf. Eth. Nio. 1, 4. Met, 1, 7, etc. Diogenes 
 also made himself -merry over Plato's Ideas. Diog. La. 6, 53. Cf. the 
 apology for Plato's Ideas against the attacks of Aristotle, by Atticus, in 
 Euseb. Praep. Ev. 15, 13. 
 
104 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 That with which one is occupied, sticks to him, says the 
 proverb, Plato could not become free of the divine, Aristotle of 
 the natural. The physics of Plato are, so to speak, a condensed 
 theology ; and the metaphysics of Aristotle are, in truth, nothing 
 else than attenuated sublimated physics. 
 
 However much also Plato and Aristotle labour to apprehend 
 and present both the former and the latter, yet it cannot be de- 
 nied that the divine in one, and the natural in the other, is a 
 little deficient ; in Plato the reality, in Aristotle the idea. Plato 
 is too much abstracted from the many, by reflecting on the one ; 
 and Axistotle cannot, by his whole power, raise himself to the 
 whole, because he has allowed himself too deeply in the con- 
 sideration of the particular; in the former the world, in the 
 latter heaven, is wanting in inward truth ; in Plato the earthly, 
 and in Aristotle the divine, has an existence more of word and 
 thought than of substance and fact. 
 
 Hence is manifest the high value and absolute necessity of 
 the Aristotelian antagonism to Plato ; and we know what was 
 the historical significance of the development in Plato and 
 Aristotle, of two equally great and indispensable, but yet opposite 
 intellectual tendencies. And still more instinctively in a prac- 
 tical than in a theoretic regard, may be perceived, the infinitely 
 important service which Aristotle has to render to the world : 
 and this side of the relation, the most important in itself gene- 
 rally, and for our object especially, has been least regarded 
 and examined in previous discussions. We will, in a few words, 
 set it in as clear a light as possible. 
 
 The highest perfection of man and mind is conceivable only 
 in and with freedom, or it consists rather in the true liberty 
 which is identical with eternal life. All, therefore, which hinders 
 the mind in its freedom, in the great whole of humanity as in 
 individual men, which fixes and crystallizes it, renders it biassed 
 and captivates it, becomes an idol to it, beyond which it thinks 
 and desires nothing; this is, of course, injurious, and an hindrance 
 to that perfection. Now, not only the bad may become such an 
 
REMOVAL OF FALSE VIEWS AND OPINIONS. 105 
 
 hindrance to the mind, but also the good ; and the latter, when 
 it becomes the fetter of the mind, is much more difficult to 
 break and overcome than the former. This, alas ! few recognize 
 or comprehend. And hence comes the most dangerous part of 
 the misfortune of our times. Men, rendered enthusiastic by the 
 glories of culture and civilization, imagine that it only needs to 
 be removed from the base, rude, bad, immoral, and stupid, and 
 an unceasing progress to the rational and divine will follow of 
 itself. They do not see that the beautiful and good is just so 
 much the more dangerous to mental freedom and improvement 
 the purer, nobler, and more splendid is the form in which it 
 appears, and, if they are told this, they do not believe it. And 
 yet, daily experience teaches that it is far more difficult to con- 
 vert a man, who is proud of his virtue, than a vicious, man ; and 
 that it is much easier to lead a publican than a scribe from 
 his ignorance. 
 
 It is just the intellectually sublime and excellent which 
 causes the greatest danger to the educational course of men and 
 of humanity, by producing a lively and noble, but also easily 
 biassing enthusiasm, to which the high passes for the highest. 
 
 This danger was connected with Platonism more than with 
 any other system. For the undying spirit of philosophy had 
 never crystallized more gloriously or ideally than in it. We 
 cannot deny, also, the paralyzing effects of its heavenly splen- 
 dour on the souls of men. The Platonic ideas have become to 
 many, both in ancient and modern times, what lime-twigs are to 
 birds. They cannot get away from them, and thus lose the free 
 movement of their minds. It was, therefore, quite necessary 
 that the criticism of Aristotle should rise in opposition to the, 
 Platonic enthusiasm, and counteract its centrifugal tendency by 
 centripetal force, in order to preserve to the human mind its 
 imperilled circumspection, and to keep open for it the way to 
 freedom. 
 
 Woe to the world, if it ever succeeds, in entirely overthrow- 
 ing the high-priesthood of genuine Platonism in the province of 
 
106 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 the intellect, in order to worship as its only deities, the golden 
 calves, which it has itself made of the empirical materials and 
 notional forms of Aristotelianism ! but woe to it not less, if, 
 opposed to the divine spiritual life of the Platonic world-con- 
 sciousness, the critical master power and activity of the Aris- 
 totelian matter-of-fact common sense ceases to be influential. 
 
 6 Who then are Plato and Aristotle 1 They are ministers, 
 as the Lord gave to every man,' (1 Cor. in. 5.) 
 
HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GREATNESS. 107 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GREATNESS. 
 
 Having proceeded negatively in our valuation of Plato, we 
 must now treat the subject positively. We have laboured to 
 remove the hindrances which stand in the way of the apprehen^ 
 sion of his true greatness and importance, and must now seek a 
 point of view from which this greatness will be clearly seen by 
 us. And this the more, because we greatly need a lively im- 
 pression thereof in order to attain our proper object. We wish 
 to apprehend the Christian element in Plato and his philo- 
 sophy. The conception of this, however, is so nearly related to 
 the conception of the truly great and significant, that, in gene- 
 ral, we speedily and safely attain the former through the 
 latter. Especially is this the case with Plato, in whom the 
 Christian element everywhere gleams through that which causes 
 him to appear great. 
 
 Complete knowledge of the greatness of a man and of his 
 mind, proceeds principally from a twofold consideration, viz., of 
 his achievements and of his means. In order to obtain a com- 
 plete consciousness of Plato's world-historic greatness, we must 
 accordingly seek first to obtain a comprehensive idea of what he 
 effected ; and then, secondly, by what means he accomplished 
 these things ; through what inward and outward conditions he 
 has become, that which he was and is. If we wish to know the 
 former, we must turn our eyes away from him to that which, at 
 his time and subsequently, resembled his performances; we 
 must go to work, measuring and weighing, distinguishing and 
 
108 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 comparing ; for the degree of greatness can only be decided by 
 considering several great men together. To acquire a know- 
 ledge of the latter, we must look from him to the times antece- 
 dent, and then into his own mind, and regard the exciting and 
 furthering influences from without and within, as well as the 
 restrictions and unfavourable circumstances with which he had 
 to contend both within and without himself. 
 
 What an entirely different judgment, than at present, should 
 we be in a condition to pronounce concerning Plato, if there 
 had been a thorough and satisfactory discussion of these points ; 
 if the relation of Platonism, not merely to the philosophy of his 
 time and ours, but also to the history of the 'education of the 
 human mind, and of humanity in general, had been measured 
 and defined ; if the Platonic philosophy had been presented 
 clearly in its genetic relation to the ancient heathen world, to 
 Orientalism on one side and Hellenism on the other, and 
 especially to Atticism ; if a picture were before us in which we 
 could see Plato, the Greek, the man, the philosopher; if we 
 could learn, with the utmost possible accuracy, the unfolding of 
 his ideas from his own mental organization, from his studies and 
 experiences, and from other fertilizing influences ! 
 
 But a construing of the conception of Plato's greatness of so 
 comprehensive a character, would far surpass the limits of our 
 present task and of our powers. We must and shall content 
 ourselves with a few hints, which may perhaps incite to further 
 investigations. But we shall certainly take care that our per- 
 ception of Plato's greatness, however incomplete it may be, or 
 become, is a living one. 
 
 To a living perception stands opposed the dead reception of 
 an idea which is, as it were, forced upon us. That perception is 
 a living one which is connected with a clear intellectual sense of 
 the matter which is treated of. Only that which from a 
 previously quickened point of it, clearly and perceptibly pene- 
 trates the whole life of our consciousness, can we call a true 
 learning and understanding. 
 
HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GREATNESS. 109 
 
 Let us, accordingly, endeavour to strike that point of our 
 consciousness, in which, from a pregnant living impression, the 
 presentiment of Plato's greatness is ever more clearly and 
 strongly developed. 
 
 The feeling of extraordinary greatness will scarcely be the 
 first impression which Plato will produce on us at our first 
 acquaintance with him. It is, generally, rather the feeling of 
 disappointed expectation. For the impression of subjects which 
 have been long commended to us, as great and noble, is usually 
 far below the conceptions with which we come to their contem- 
 plation. Many, indeed, are unwilling to confess this, either to 
 themselves or to others, being ashamed that they have regarded 
 coldly and without feeling, that concerning which others express 
 themselves with warmth and rapture ; and this false shame thus 
 becomes only too easily a source of insincerity towards others 
 and towards themselves. They pretend to feelings before them- 
 selves and others which they have not experienced. 
 
 We take up Plato's writings with no small expectations. 
 How intent are we already on the enjoyment, which the style, 
 so celebrated from antiquity, is to afford us ! Have we not 
 early and often heard him called the Attic Bee 1 Is there not 
 connected with this name, the remembrance of the pretty fable 
 of the swarm of bees, which, in Hymettus, alighted on the lips of 
 the sleeping boy % l Was it not a proverb among the ancients 
 — among those who may certainly be considered able to judge in 
 this respect, that Zeus, if he had wished to speak Greek, would 
 have spoken like Plato ? 2 
 
 , Yet the celebrated beauty of the Platonic style, will scarcely 
 be evident, at first view, to an unprepossessed mind. A certain 
 delicacy, fulness, strength, and liveliness of expression cannot, 
 
 1 Val. Max. 1, 6. Plin. H.-N. 11. 9. 
 
 2 Amm. Marc. 22, 16. Cic. Or. 3, 19. Cf. de Orat. 1, 11 ; 3, 34, etc. 
 He was also, on account of the beauty of his representations, called the 
 Homer of philosophers. Cic. Tusc. 1, 32. Cf. on his style Quint. Inst. 
 10, 1. 
 
110 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 indeed, be denied to it ; but it will not generally produce the 
 high satisfaction which it promised, and, in many particulars, it 
 will appear little praiseworthy. Especially displeasing will often 
 be a certain apparently unnecessary diffuseness, so that not 
 wholly incorrect, it will be thought, were those among Plato's 
 contemporaries who censured and opposed him, by deriving his 
 name from the diffuseness of his diction and style. 3 
 
 The Socratic method of conversation also, of which the 
 Platonic dialogues are considered the originals and models, does 
 not entirely correspond with the expectations entertained with 
 respect to it by many. Our modern Catechists deem it a fault, 
 when questions are so put, that they can be answered only with 
 Yes or No. And for whole pages, we hear nothing from those 
 with whom the Socrates of Plato speaks, but the briefest forms 
 of affirmation or denial. We frequently, indeed, meet with 
 really unsurpassable developments of ideas, which highly delight 
 us by their measured and direct, but clear and lively progress ; 
 — as, for example, the dialogue on the possibility of teaching 
 virtue in the Protagoras, on the proof of the proposition, that it 
 is better to suffer than to do wrong in the Gorgias, and the 
 questioning out of the mathematical theorem in the Meno, etc. 
 etc. ; but it cannot be denied, that in many dialogues, nothing 
 is developed, and that the answerers are merely in a state of 
 listening and agreeing, and therefore passive. 
 
 And if the method of presentation, at least in the be- 
 ginning of our acquaintance with it, rather lowers than raises 
 our opinion of Plato, this must be still more the case on consi- 
 deration of the subjects which are treated of in the dialogues. 
 For if one has heard Plato praised as a most profound and in- 
 genious thinker, he prepares himself for the discussion of the 
 most profound and important questions, and hopes to receive dis- 
 closures concerning the highest and most interesting problems. 
 Now, he certainly finds in Plato's works very beautiful and 
 
 3 Diog. La. Vit. Plat. His proper name was Aristocles. Another deri- 
 vation of Plato occurs in Athen. Deipn. 11, p. 505. 
 
HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GREATNESS. Ill 
 
 luminous thoughts concerning the Divine ordering of the 
 world, the nobility and worth of virtue, the immortality of the 
 soul, and its happiness in the pure contemplation of the divine 
 and eternal ; but these things are for the most part placed in 
 the dim distance, instead of occupying the foreground of the 
 examinations, and a larger part of the dialogues does not refer 
 immediately to these but to common subjects, and those which 
 lie nearer to common life. 4 To him who betakes himself to 
 the study of Plato from the schools and the works of our phi- 
 losophers, it w 7 ill seem not a little strange to find, instead of 
 purely metaphysical and speculative discussions, extended con- 
 versations on the value of style in rhetorical productions, on 
 courage and temperance, on the use of language and etymology, 
 on friendship and love, etc. These treatises have certainly 
 their interest, but do not afford and reveal, as it seems, that 
 wisdom which one expected and was justified in expecting from 
 the world-renow T ed philosopher. 
 
 The disappointment is greater because almost the whole of 
 the dialogues reach no satisfactory conclusion or lead to no 
 clear and tractable result, as Cicero has already remarked in 
 complaint. The greater part of the conversations break off 
 just where the discussion is most attractive, and w T here one is 
 hoping for the complete solution of the appointed task. The 
 speakers, after long turns hither and thither in the discourse, 
 still come to no end, and seem, in spite of all their attempts to 
 seize the true idea, to have enriched and extended their con- 
 sciousness by nothing, except the clear perception of their own 
 ignorance, and the untenableness of their previous strange 
 
 4 Even the Bible disappoints many readers. For many expect from a 
 book which is called a Divine revelation, the communication of extraor- 
 dinary disclosures, and the satisfaction of their speculative curiosity. When 
 then they find that the Bible gives little direct instruction concerning 
 divine things, but, on the other hand, many historical relations of appa- 
 rently insignificant circumstances, they are put out of humour, and will 
 neither believe it nor acknowledge" it, as containing a revelation. Cf. on 
 this point Hamann's Werke. 1, p. 72. 
 
112 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 opinions. Now it is not at all delightful for an inquiring dis 
 position, intent on true instruction, to go away with the feeling 
 only more definite than before, of the vacuity of his mind. One 
 feels in this respect probably the same discomfort, as, when 
 seeking something in the night, the light is extinguished just 
 at that moment when it was most necessary and would have 
 afforded most assistance. 
 
 Now, whether it be these things or others which excite a 
 certain uncomfortable or angry frame of mind in him who with 
 joyful anticipations enters the Platonic Academy ; enough, it 
 is no less natural than, as we shall soon see, easy of explana- 
 tion, that we should at first feel ourselves by no means perfectly 
 satisfied and edified by Plato. For it is the same with the taste 
 for intellectual excellencies as it is with the sensuous taste for 
 so-called delicacies. To him who partakes of them for the first 
 time, they have not an agreeable flavour : he only knows how 
 to estimate their value, when, by repeated use of them, he has 
 cultivated the right capacity of taste for such things. 
 
 But as the sun, when it has reached its lowest point in the 
 winter, mounts gradually again to its summer elevation and 
 power, so will our mind also raise itself from that critical 
 depreciation to a gradually increasing knowledge and feeling 
 of the truly great in Plato, if indeed, it possesses sufficient 
 loyalty to reason to endure calmly and to overcome the fir& 
 unfavourable impressions. For it is one of the greatest evils 
 of our time, which praises reason with words, but mocks her 
 with deeds, that men think they must honour not her fidelity, 
 but the capriciousness of the mere understanding, and must 
 bring to this all the offerings which it despotically demands. 
 The boasted strength of our critical understanding consists fre- 
 quently in nothing else but its inward weakness and inability 
 to withstand ; being incapable of maintaining its opposition to 
 the first strong impressions of so-called evident truths, it gives 
 up to pressing doubts all. that they will snatch away from it, and 
 seeks cunningly to disguise its inability to dismiss them duly 
 
HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GREATNESS. 113 
 
 under the appearance of a severely testing procedure, which 
 has proved the untenableness of that which was unhesitatingly 
 resigned. That all divine truth, as Goethe strikingly remarks, 
 is, and from its nature must be, opposed to some of our previous 
 notions, is either directly denied or disregarded and forgotten. 
 
 What then above all else can raise again, and revive in the 
 reader, who is thus put out of humour, his abated joy in 
 Plato ? 
 
 We, as a nation, have much natural disposition for the 
 earnest and moral. And thus, the moral earnestness of Plato 
 is especially adapted to produce a beneficial effect on us. We 
 have already above (p. 59), regarded duly the nobility of his 
 soul, the severity and purity of his disposition, and his earnest- 
 ness and zeal for all that is beautiful and for God ; and we 
 need, therefore, to think only of his moral love for the highest 
 good of our life, and of the bold and manly scorn which flashes 
 from his eyes when he opposes the bad and base, in order 
 to effect, in our minds, a favourable change of views concerning 
 him. 
 
 To this first little nucleus of admiration or acknowledgment 
 of the moral greatness of Plato are soon added other elements 
 from which is formed a better conception of his greatness as an 
 author and a philosopher. 
 
 He who, in a susceptible hour and frame of mind, is de- 
 lighted by the full fresh view of that incomparable picture 
 which Plato has drawn in the Phaedrus of the span of steeds in 
 the heavenly life of the soul, 5 and who gives himself up entirely, 
 with undivided and unbiassed soul, to the impression which the 
 wonderfully brilliant, and yet so mysterious splendour of this 
 picture is capable of producing, will he not feel himself 
 powerfully attracted, and his whole soul penetrated, as if by 
 spirit and fire % Will he not, the more he strives to explain 
 
 5 Phaedr. 246, b. sq. [i. p. 322]. The picture is doubtless drawn with 
 reference to certain passages in Homer, II. 1. 423 ; 16, 145 ; 17, 443 ; 24, 
 277, etc. 
 
 8 
 
114 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 this feeling and to restore his clear self-consciousness, become 
 so much the more inwardly astonished at the materials and 
 powers which co-operated most happily in this production of the 
 Platonic mind, so as to produce such strong and harmonious 
 vibrations of thought in all sympathetic souls of all centuries. 
 
 The lofty flight of Platonic enthusiasm, of which we have 
 heard so variously, — here we feel its living presence and power. 
 The poetic exuberance and beauty of his language, which 
 seemed to us to be wanting in many passages of his works, — 
 here meets us in its full glory. The spiritual depth of his 
 thoughts, by which we did not feel ourselves attracted every- 
 where in his writings, — here it at once reveals to us its scarcely 
 fathomable riches. 
 
 What a successful overture is to a good piece of music, 
 that the Phaedrus is to Plato's works. If we are clearly con- 
 scious of the sense and spirit of this dialogue, we shall soon see 
 our way clearly in the region of Platonic spirit and striving, 
 and shall learn to appreciate its peculiar excellencies. For the 
 more deeply we penetrate into the contents of the Phaedrus, 
 the more clearly shall we perceive also, that it is by no means 
 either the lofty enthusiasm or the poetically beautiful diction, 
 exclusively or principally, which so uncommonly attracts the 
 reader of this dialogue. Did our feeling proceed first or ex- 
 clusively from these causes, it would be rather a fleeting ebulli- 
 tion than an increasing satisfaction of the mind. But it is the 
 latter. However much the heart may be warmed in favour of 
 this youthful effusion of a wealthy mind, and may testify of its 
 beauties ; the intellect, and the calm and thoughtful considera- 
 tion of it, afford no less speaking testimony. 
 
 With all the fire and soaring of thought — what keeping and 
 presence of mind ! Amid this stream and rush of images, what 
 a clear and circumspect train of thought! With the deep 
 earnestness of that ancient myth and philosopheme, what a fresh 
 charm and grace in the presentation ! In these poems of the 
 fancy, what truth ! what nature ! It is impossible that the 
 
HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GREATNESS. 115 
 
 mental condition of those who have been caught and struck by- 
 love should be represented by any art or language more faith- 
 fully, vivaciously, or truly, than it is done in the Phaedrus. It 
 is as though the lover himself had apprehended and revealed his 
 own most inward consciousness. 
 
 And is it then merely the faithful mirroring of a purely 
 human feeling, which gives this dialogue the inward truth with 
 which it interests our mind ? Does it not awake a strain in 
 our breast, which is often, indeed, long silent and sometimes even 
 seems to have died out entirely within us, but, which once roused, 
 not only continually sounds through our whole inner life, but is 
 recognised by us with joyful certainty as the key-note of our 
 soul and of our true being. The soul is very willing to hear of 
 its celestial origin, and it knows and feels also, whenever this 
 is spoken of to it in the right manner, that this discourse is the 
 purest truth, however poetical and mysterious it may otherwise 
 appear. 
 
 If now, after so powerful and permanent impressions, we 
 come to a close study of the works of Plato, we gradually find 
 that they really possess the high excellencies which have been 
 attributed to them in ancient and modern times. If we com- 
 pare, with regard to the style and mode of presentation, the 
 last and ripest work of Plato's mind, with his first and most 
 soaring, the Republic with the Phaedrus, we cannot avoid, not- 
 withstanding all the poetic splendour of the latter, placing the 
 Republic higher than it as to style. For the Republic possesses 
 all the beauties of that youthful production, without its faults. 
 In this the fire of intellect, which created the former, still glows 
 unenfeebled. The richest images still stream from the fresh 
 springs of fancy. The discourse still moves on in secure progress, 
 with unconstrained grace. But, while there the flight of thought 
 approached in part the eccentric, here it moves in more uniform 
 circumspection, without however being deficient in inward power 
 of soaring. If in the former, the splendour of the presentation 
 and the expression here and there passed into the luxurious, it 
 
116 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 here appears in sustained moderation, without becoming dull, 
 poor, or slender. And still more substantial and concrete here 
 than there stand out persons, world-relations, and characters ; 
 with not less clearness and convincing power are the most import- 
 ant occasions of life here spoken of, the most significant points 
 and questions discussed. 
 
 But between the Eepublic and the Phaedrus, what a respect- 
 able series of solid productions of Plato's authorship ! They 
 bear in themselves, as a whole, with the exception of the spurious 
 and interpolated, the marks of genuine classics ; as we cannot 
 longer deny, if by an earnest study of the ancients in general, 
 and of Plato in particular, we more and more forget the false 
 views and tendencies of taste, which have, for the most part, 
 become prevalent in our modern literature, and do more or less 
 influence us all. 
 
 The diction of Plato's works is beautiful and rich, yet 
 properly without parade and not overladen with ornament, and 
 it maintains in almost all his writings an uniform dignity and 
 finish. The presentation is not lame and flat in one passage, 
 in order to soar up all the more vivaciously in the others : it 
 does not enrich and beautify the particulars at the cost of the 
 whole. Plato never devotes himself, like so many favourite 
 authors of our public, to bribe the ' monologieal interests ' of 
 the reader, and to gain them, by interesting sentences, popular 
 common-places, or showy descriptions. What at first was dis- 
 pleasing as a certain diffuseness, is seen, on closer consideration, 
 to be a peculiarity founded in the nature of conversation, 
 which serves, moreover, the philosophical purpose of a thorough 
 and all-sided discussion of difficult subjects. 6 It is always by 
 motives derived from reason and the matter in hand, that Plato 
 allows his styles to be guided : he never, from vanity or one- 
 sided prejudice, allows himself in certain piquant sayings and 
 
 6 See what Plato himself says in justification of this breadth Theaet. 
 172. e. 195. b. [i. pp. 407, 435-6], bnt especially Polit. 264. a. 286. c, d. 
 [ii. pp. 200. 236-7]. 
 
HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GREATNESS. 117 
 
 thoughts, nor permits his words and thoughts to be dictated 
 by sudden ebullitions of fancy. Least of all, however, is book- 
 making, as it is carried on, especially at the present day, in 
 great perfection and universality, the matter which he has at 
 heart. He does not write for the sake of writing or of delight- 
 ing in what he has written, or to acquire renown as an author, 
 and an imperishable name : he did not regard authorship as his 
 proper or highest vocation, but to operate intellectually through 
 the living word, and by making his whole life his deed and 
 doctrine. He values all writings but little in comparison with 
 this : the written is, in his view, dead and poor, if it has not 
 been previously penetrated with the breath of an allied soul ; 
 and it was not so much to diffuse his wisdom and teaching in 
 the world by his books, as to rouse susceptible souls here and 
 there, and incite them to a new perception of the eternally true 
 and beautiful, that he wished to embody, in dead letters, the 
 sparks and germs of ideas of his mind. 7 
 
 Where then has Plato his equal in a literary respect and 
 as to style, his purpose being the same I Are literary pheno- 
 mena so frequent that we might place them immediately by his 
 side 1 Do we find, even in our best authors, such sterling quali- 
 ties throughout, as in him? Can we, in the case of all those 
 authors who, in the youthful fire of enthusiasm obtained con- 
 sideration by their ravishing compositions, commend them as 
 we can Plato, because their gift of presentation has become 
 more classic with increasing age? Are not the talents of 
 many authors like rockets, which, with sudden flight rise shin- 
 ing into the sky, but are lost again as quickly in the darkness 
 of the night % Is it not the case with many who write a so- 
 called beautiful style, that this style is rather one made up and 
 adopted than one produced by the impression of the subject, 
 and that has grown out of the innermost life of one's own 
 mind % The celebrated saying of the great Buff on, \ Le style, 
 
 7 Phaedr. 274. c. sq. [i. p. 255]. A passage highly characteristic of 
 Plato's peculiar way of thinking. 
 
118 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 c'est l'liomme !' does not, in fact, admit of so perfect and preg- 
 nant an application to all writers as to Plato. 
 
 How distinguished as to his manner of writing does Plato 
 stand, especially among philosophers. There have been none 
 before or after him who have excelled him in this. Only a 
 few can be named who have emulated, with a happy result, 
 his method of presenting philosophical ideas. Very many, 
 especially among our recent philosophers, wrote in a lan- 
 guage which cannot be called sensible, much less aesthetically 
 perfect and classic. 
 
 But when we have learnt to perceive, and eventually also to 
 feel, that his style is excellent, which even his enemies have 
 almost always reluctantly admitted, we have still gained but little 
 towards a living perception of the greatness of Plato from this 
 side. What renders the beauty of his style so important and 
 significant consists principally in this, that it appears to be the 
 living realization of a grand philosophical idea and require- 
 ment. We have already (p. 52. n. 75.) mentioned Plato's belief in 
 the originality and mightiness of every soul's essence ; we need 
 therefore only remind of what was then said. Every spiritual 
 power, in Plato's opinion, forms and builds for itself the body, 
 and the form even, by which it is to belong to the visible 
 world. The more sterling consequently the plastic pow r er of 
 the spiritual principle is, and the more unrestrictedly it can 
 develope its forming activity, the more adapted will the bodily 
 covering appear to the in-dwelling soul, the more perfect will 
 the form present itself, the more powerful will the sight of it 
 be to call forth the idea of the eternally beautiful in the mind 
 of the beholder. 8 
 
 The doubtful or contestable which exists in this Platonic 
 thought, together with what is true and correct, troubles us 
 little here, where we are not to examine its philosophical value. 
 Certain it is, this is a thought as great and sublime, as fruitful 
 
 8 Phaedr. 251. a. sq. [i. p. 327]. Cf. Rep. 3, 402. d. [ii. p. 84-5]. 
 
HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GREATNESS. 119 
 
 for art and life; and in its light the formal beauty of Plato's 
 works must appear especially worthy of reverence, because it 
 now no longer presents itself as the result of chance or whim, 
 but as the product of a moral necessity. And but seldom in 
 life or in literature do we find a harmonious relation between 
 matter, or form, and spirit. Yet in the union of the ideal and 
 real, of the sensual and intellectual, of the thought and the 
 form, is revealed the highest skill and force of intellect. 
 
 As now that which we must especially admire and honour 
 in the beautiful style of Plato is, that it is not the product of an 
 excessive desire to please, but of a noble and wealthy mind, 
 which serves high and solemn purposes, so his whole productive- 
 ness as an author is seen to be of an entirely superior and rare 
 sort, in that he never yields to the influence and pressure of the 
 moment, but stands always in the service of philosophy and its 
 aims ; he seizes on and elaborates, not that for which he has 
 just now a desire or humour, but only that which the idea of 
 philosophy, ever hovering before his mind, demands. This is, 
 in fact, a virtue which we seldom meet with in authors of 
 genius, and most rarely in authors of the present day. How 
 many authors would have accomplished more, and that of better 
 quality, if they had held their productive powers more under 
 control, and had lavished them less freely in the unappeasable 
 lust for creating. But our geniuses are often like weak women, 
 who cannot withstand a stormy or languishing wooing, they yield 
 with full ardour to every productive paroxysm, are inflamed in 
 a moment towards every happy idea, every bright creation of the 
 mind : and they make no secret of all this, but they willingly bear 
 it everywhere in view, because they think such a resolute pro- 
 digality of mental capital is the surest sign and the dearest right 
 of true genius. 
 
 Now, it may indeed be borne with and excused in those who 
 are full of intellectual strength and ardour, if they set their 
 snorting charger in full gallop as unhesitatingly on every 
 ordinary pleasure excursion, as when the point is, to gain the 
 
120 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 farthest goal. But it is very sad and almost intolerable to see 
 such an abuse of powers, where it is not the natural exuberance 
 of inward fulness, but an artificial product of such minds as wish 
 to appear greater geniuses than they are. And alas ! this is to 
 be seen frequently enough in our modern art and literature. 
 We have few gifted with great talents, but many with great 
 affectation, who are certainly successful, when they have used 
 the proper stimulants, in representing in tones and words the 
 most original and clever convulsions. 
 
 Only he who has recognized and painfully felt this unhappy 
 passion of always demeaning one's-self cleverly, and uncon- 
 sciously wasting one's single talent, is in a condition to estimate 
 the high value of the ancient classics generally, and particularly 
 to admire the beautiful freedom of Plato's chaste mind from all 
 such feverish licence. 
 
 The feeling of respect which this side of Plato's authorship 
 awakes in us, is heightened greatly by the sec ore and graceful 
 mastery with which he always knows how to rein in the ardour 
 of his enthusiasm. The means which he uses for this purpose, 
 and in which he has shown an unequalled mastery, is Irony. 
 The aesthetic and philosophical importance of irony has, it is well 
 known, been variously discussed by the Schlegelian school, and 
 though errors and exaggerations, as well as derision and contra- 
 dictions have not been wanting in the discussion, yet it has not 
 remained without fruit in the determination of what is import- 
 ant and true in this matter. 
 
 In the philosophy of Plato, irony not only occupies a highly 
 important position, but it forms also an essential trait in the 
 sketch of his literary and intellectual greatness. It is with him 
 the damper, applied at the right moment, when the chords of 
 the soul are vibrating fullest and strongest; it operates on 
 thoughts and their expression as an astringent and reducent, — 
 in cases when the ardour of enthusiasm or fancy might perhaps 
 be able to effect their sublimation. But it may also be regarded, 
 as Ast strikingly remarks, as \ the purifying fire wdiich resolves 
 
HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GREATNESS. 121 
 
 again the sensuous form, in order to release the free spirit : 
 as Plato would have said : I set before you a sensuous image 
 of that which cannot be described or portrayed in words, in 
 order only to intimate its nature to you ; but that you may 
 not become idolaters, and take the form for the essence, the 
 image for the thing, I destroy again my own representation 
 that your mind may not cleave to it, but rise above it to the 
 idea,' etc. 
 
 But with Plato it is still more than this ; 9 it is the sister of 
 true heavenly wisdom who rejoices on the earth, and her delights 
 are with the sons of men (Pro v. viii. 31). It is the reflected 
 splendour of that eternal glory, in which all disorders and ob- 
 scurities are solved, in whose freedom all fear and suspense is 
 removed, in whose happiness all contrasting discords are brought 
 into harmonious concert. It is the manifest proof of the entire 
 freedom of Plato's mind from habits of self -torment and de- 
 pression, and of his free position above the contending antitheses 
 within and without him ; it flows from the secure consciousness 
 of a precious possession, which can neither be troubled nor be 
 robbed from him by the necessities and miserable condition of 
 the throng of the world, and which, besides, as the poet says, 
 permits him to behold cheerfully the drama of life ; it arises 
 from a certain conviction, that the bad, and that which is at 
 variance with God, is already judged and put to naught, and 
 that besides, it would be as foolish as superfluous to grieve to 
 death over its ephemeral splendour and insolence (Ps. xxxvii. 1 
 
 9 A threefold distinction is apparent, as Ast points out, in the irony of 
 Plato. It is seen (1) as ordinary Socratic irony, jovial, parodying, in the 
 tone of conversation, etc., as e.g., in Protag. 342. a. sq. [i. p. 272] ; (2.) 
 as poetico -religious soaring up in bold flight with serene grace into the 
 mystic and enthusiastic, as in Phaedr. 246. a. sq. 257. a. [i. pp. 322, 333] ; 
 (3.) as philosophically keen, annihilating all that is unphilosophical with 
 that secure facility which only attained mastery can give, e.g., Theaet. 179 
 e. [i. p. 415]. Soph. 252. a. [iii. p. 158]. It cannot, however, be denied, 
 that too great bitterness in Plato is sometimes prejudicial to the high value 
 and spirit of his irony. 
 
122 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 sq. Jno. iii. 18) ; enough ! it is rooted in the mental freedom and 
 joy which has or anticipates the Atonement. 
 
 Quite otherwise now appears, when viewed from this strength 
 and inward certainty of Plato's mind, the at first unpleasant 
 peculiarity of so many dialogues, that they do not conduct the 
 examination to a close, but break off when their object is almost 
 attained. It is seen that neither deficiency of power in solution, 
 nor capricious humours, determine Plato to leave the reader 
 suddenly in the lurch. One perceives, on the contrary, that this 
 manner, certainly irksome to one's ease, is intentional and 
 necessary: he becomes reconciled to it, because he feels how 
 much he owes to it, how much he has gained by it in mental 
 power. Plato wishes to educate his pupils and readers to the 
 mental vigour and independence which he has himself attained, 
 and he uses, as an important means to this end, the plan of 
 leaving problems unsolved. By not himself expressing the 
 solution, he wishes to give the highest flight to the independence 
 of the mind, already powerfully excited by the form of dialogue. 
 The thought is developed, the right direction is given to subse- 
 quent meditation, the reader himself is to find or to form the 
 conclusion, and to take unaided the last steps to the goal, which 
 cannot now be easily missed. And other mode of coming into 
 possession of the truth there is none. For truth does not allow 
 itself to be given up and communicated ready-made as such ; it 
 does not allow itself, when it is expressed here or there, to be 
 pocketed and carried off with all convenience, and without in- 
 ward effort, every one must himself perceive it, comprehend it, 
 and feel it to be his own. 
 
 That Plato has to do with only one, but this the whole 
 truth, and that he does not give chase to so-called truths, and 
 as soon as he has slain one, straightway present it in an elegant 
 dish before the public as an entree, provided with an appetiz- 
 ing sauce, — this fact goes, like a silent power, through all his 
 works, and gives them a special value, in connecting to- 
 gether organically all the single parts, separated from each 
 
HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GREATNESS. 123 
 
 other as to time and contents, into one great and finished 
 whole. 
 
 Let us, in order to be sensible of the variety and excellence of 
 works produced in this manner, look for a moment at the history 
 of the rise of most works of our ordinary authors. They write 
 usually on all that comes across their path, or runs in their 
 thoughts ; the first best subject is the right one for them, if only 
 it is adapted to show their talents and knowledge in an advan- 
 tageous light ; whether their single writings stand in an inner 
 relation to each other, whether the birth of their works be 
 grounded in an inner necessity for the development of their 
 thoughts and knowledge, these things trouble the many but 
 little. They turn, as the impulse comes, now to this, now to 
 that material ; from the fulness of their magazines they build 
 now here, now there a stately wall ; but when they have builded 
 much and long, nothing in the end is finished but a broad and 
 long wall-work in different directions, no entire and completed 
 edifice. 
 
 It is quite otherwise with Plato's works ; they all fit into 
 each other nicely, and appear to have been produced with such 
 a previous reference to each other, and on such a plan, that 
 at last they form a temple in that noble style, in which all the 
 light is received from above through the dome. 
 
 The Phaedrus, Gorgias, and Protagoras make their appear- 
 ance, like steady workmen, provided with the necessary ap- 
 paratus, to demolish the apparitions of the Sophists, to clear 
 the ground and dig the foundations : the Phaedrus allows us, at 
 the same time, to cast a glance, though but a fleeting one, at the 
 beautiful draught of the whole : in the Theaetetus, Parme- 
 nides and Sophist, rise the firm buttresses and arches ; the 
 Cratylus provides for the acoustic relations ; by the Philebus 
 and Banquet the inner spaces are properly divided and orna- 
 mented ; the Phaedo arranges the sacrificial services ; the 
 Republic collects the community into the sanctuary ; in the 
 Timaeus and Critias the whole rises finished and concluded 
 
124 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 heavenwards, — and not till then does the beholder perceive the 
 true meaning and idea of the whole, and see that it is, and is 
 intended to be, nothing but a copy in miniature of the great 
 edifice of the universe. The parts of these works were con- 
 trived, like the members of the world, on one design : here also 
 as there, one striving after sacred ends runs through all the 
 stages of development. The organic relation of the Platonic 
 works, — this it is which is inestimably great and pleasing in 
 them. But he who would truly feel this delight must first 
 experience the joy w r ith which our great Goethe regarded the 
 works of nature, and concerning which, he has so well expressed 
 himself, e.g., in his letter from Italy to the Duchess Anna 
 Amalia. But, in truth, nature with all the glory of her organic 
 operations and creation, is, for many of our critics and book- 
 makers, an apocalyptic number, which fact also they do not at 
 all conceal ; and it is sufficiently ludicrous that many of them 
 think they have ranked themselves, as intellectual prodigies, 
 high above Goethe, by not being able, in their writings, to be 
 sufficiently amazed that Goethe so gladly and diligently col- 
 lected mussel-shells and studied plants. To a large part of 
 mankind the manufactured and dead is always dearer than 
 that which is organically formed and vitalized, both in nature 
 and the productions of the intellect, because their condition is 
 that of elegant passivity, and any mode of apprehension is 
 calmly gratifying to them. 
 
 There are two chief points in the conception of the organic — 
 constant development from within and living relation of all 
 the parts to each other and to the whole. "We find both of 
 these in Plato's style and works. 10 The organic character of 
 his style has been sufficiently intimated in the preceding ; the 
 
 10 The Bible is pre-eminently an organic work, like Nature. We have 
 still few attempts in theological literature thus to conceive and represent 
 it. Swedenborg's, however unsuccessful, have still, from their tendency 
 something noble and venerable in them. His chief work, Apocalypsis reve- 
 lata, is especially worthy of mention in this connection. 
 
HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GREATNESS. 125 
 
 organic structure of his thoughts and his system we shall have 
 occasion to take note of hereafter ; here it is principally the 
 organic origin and connection of his writings, which may be 
 rendered evident to us from what has been said above. 
 
 It cannot indeed be concealed that many doubts have been 
 opposed to this view. Are not other writings of Plato extant 
 besides those mentioned, which could be proved by a forced 
 interpretation only, to have been comprehended in the original 
 plan of the whole ? And how can it be generally supposed 
 that an author has surveyed and marked out beforehand the 
 whole field of his future activity, and what seems still more 
 impossible, has calculated beforehand the whole life-process of 
 his mind and ideas, and has always been productive only in 
 accordance with this calculation ? Had such a scheme of literary 
 activity laid at the foundation of all that which Plato found it 
 necessary to work out, this systematic arrangement of his single 
 writings must have been much more evident than it now is. 
 But such a close connection between these writings is so little 
 apparent, that many readers of Plato have much rather felt 
 inclined to deny it altogether. Even some who are thoroughly 
 acquainted with his works, are of opinion that they are not 
 connected by any inward unity. 
 
 The weight of such authorities might be removed or balanced 
 by other authorities. But our knowledge would gain little by 
 such a course. We will suspend our decision on this point for 
 the present, and wait till we have obtained a clear view of the 
 spirit, character and contents of the Platonic philosophy. Then 
 it will be seen whether the Platonic writings are to be con- 
 sidered as scattered leaves or as a concluded cycle. 
 
 Certain it is, we must not in the least think of pedantic 
 calculation or anxiety, when we regard Plato's writings as 
 pieces of work which were adapted to each other. For, that in 
 the end they succeed and fit into each other, as if they were 
 made for one another, has its ground far more in his creative 
 genius than in the paltry measurings of cool deliberation. All 
 
126 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 genuine productions of genius bear the profound unity of the 
 author within them, and hence may be easily presented together 
 as an organic whole. And, it is further certain, that on him 
 who has no very clear idea of Plato's comprehensive intellectual 
 greatness, the thought is involuntarily impressed, on a survey of 
 Plato's literary performances ; that his will has entered purely 
 and fully into his doings ; that he has written nothing, which 
 would have remained unwritten without injury to the whole ; 
 and that he has written all, w T hich the spirit and purpose of the 
 whole demanded. 11 
 
 And it is just this exceedingly rare peculiarity of his works 
 which is the principal reason why most readers of Plato do not 
 share immediately in the admiration which has been given to 
 him both in ancient and modern times. One can hardly arrive 
 at an understanding on the single dialogues, and to a hearty 
 satisfaction in them, so long as he reads them singly and suc- 
 cessively ; on the contrary, he has more frequently the feeling 
 that he does not rightly know what he is to make of them ; 
 whence, we observe among the Scholiasts and commentators of 
 all times, innumerable and unsettled disputes concerning the 
 proper object and fundamental thought of every dialogue. 
 The understanding of the whole will alone render possible the 
 understanding of the several parts, only when one has appre- 
 hended the point w^here all the threads, proceeding from the 
 most diverse tendencies of mind, meet, can he, going back from 
 this, explain these tendencies and set himself right with regard 
 to them. It is with Plato's works as with every great sym- 
 phony ; one does not feel its value and beauty till he perceives 
 it as a symphony in its entire fulness of life ; single sections 
 
 11 I am well aware that Plato left much incomplete, and did not even 
 begin much that he wished to write, e.g., the Philosophies and the Hermo- 
 crates. But a geographer must tell his scholars that the earth is a sphere, 
 even though he knows there are Cordilleras and Himalayas on it, and so he 
 who presents the Platonic greatness, must display it as organic, even 
 though he is acquainted with some deficiencies in it. 
 
HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GREATNESS. 127 
 
 presented by single instruments, not only remain usually not 
 understood, but frequently make also a disagreeable impression, 
 because one does not see and feel the significance which they 
 have in and for the whole. Is it otherwise with the greatest 
 of all symphonies, the history of the world ? The eye of Him, 
 who surveys the universe of things, rests with satisfaction on 
 that moving picture, of which the out-cropping details confuse 
 and wound us short-sighted mortals. 
 
 While, however, we in this manner endeavour to perceive 
 the beauty, harmony, and greatness of the works of Plato, we 
 must necessarily refer to the inner place of their origin, and dis- 
 close a pleasing sight of the beauty and greatness of that mind 
 which produced them. 
 
 What a mind must that have been which produced and 
 formed from itself this world of thought % What a clearness 
 and strength of consciousness must he have possessed, to have 
 surveyed this fulness of images and ideas which makes his writ- 
 ings so inexhaustible ? What a symmetrical and vigorous cul- 
 tivation must he have bestowed on all his mental capacities, in 
 order to render them capable of such effective co-operation, as is 
 seen in his works ! What a truly ethical relation must he have 
 established and maintained between the different functions of 
 his mind, seeing that they all, ever looking up to the highest 
 and ruling knowledge, strive with joy to be conducive and ser- 
 viceable thereto, and seeing that they desire not to be or attain 
 anything for themselves, independently of ""this, and never 
 conceive themselves bound or injured when they obey only the 
 law and judgment of the mind. 
 
 That condition of the soul which Plato describes 12 as the 
 most healthy and most rational, is indeed nothing else but the 
 reflection of his own. In himself exists that union of various 
 powers through wisdom and love, after which he bids his friends 
 to strive ! in him is that harmonious condition firmly established, 
 
 12 Rep. 4, 442. [ii. p. 127], and especially in the whole of the sixth 
 book. 
 
128 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 in which every organ of the mental life exercises its appropriate 
 activity at the right time and in the right measure ! And he 
 who has delighted in this admirable equilibrium, in which the 
 most diverse interests and most opposite powers stand with 
 respect to one another, will scarcely be able to conceive how 
 that reproach, which we refuted above, could have arisen, that 
 Plato allowed his fancy to rule unchecked in the domain of 
 reason. And though we have already sought to refute and 
 destroy that accusation, yet we must not omit to mention here, 
 that on the contrary, Plato's intellectual greatness rests pe- 
 culiarly on the beautiful and just relation of his fancy to his 
 understanding ; and for this purpose we need merely, since the 
 strength of his fancy does not admit of a doubt, to render evi- 
 dent his no less great strength in the peculiar activity of the 
 understanding. 
 
 But how can we render this more evident than by a com- 
 parative glance from us to him in respect of severe and unin- 
 terrupted trains of thought ? How many are there among us 
 who could boast of such ? We can scarcely concede to our age 
 a mastery in that which is properly called thinking. Or it 
 might even be maintained that to thifik, now means nothing 
 further than to have thoughts and to connect them with each 
 other ! Where then in our day are the frequent thinkers, who, 
 in purely inward activity of the understanding, can bring about 
 and accomplish in themselves an act of thinking in uninterrupted 
 and severe sequence? Writers and readers, thought-hunters 
 and recorders, we have in plenty, but few thinkers in the above 
 indicated sense of the word. Our power of thought has been 
 too much enfeebled and spoiled by the now indispensable 
 crutches of writing and reading for it purely of itself to remain 
 long active. Our thinking is frequently like an intermittent 
 pulse, it collects itself and buries itself momentarily in the subject, 
 then it relaxes again, and the consciousness comes off from it. 13 
 
 13 We do not, of course, speak here of the heroes of our literature and 
 philosophy. 
 
HINTS FOR A LIVING PERCEPTION OF PLATO'S GBEATNESS. 129 
 
 We compel it indeed to return immediately with its whole 
 clearness, but it does not always obey us, and we must often 
 wait patiently, until it is pleased again to apply itself, and it 
 is continually obliged to seek to restore again its quickly relaxing 
 elasticity. We think, as we usually sing and read, in a desul- 
 tory and fragmentary manner. 
 
 In continuous thinking, progressing without pause or digres- 
 sion, the ancients, taken as a wdiole, were stronger than we are ; 
 their orations and orators prove this ; the weakly constitution 
 of our modern oratory, — which we seek in vain to cloak with 
 beautiful drapery — arises principally from our f aint-heartedness 
 in constant and severe thinking. 
 
 That Plato possessed and displayed precisely in this an ex- 
 traordinary strength, no one will longer doubt who has tried to 
 follow closely and fixedly the dialectic movement of his thoughts. 
 He will not indeed say, how often he has stopped on his way to 
 rest, because otherwise he would have lost his breath and reason, 
 while the old man from Greece went vigorously forward in even 
 rhythm on his steep path ; but he will then confess, that it is 
 rather a fatiguing pleasure to follow this thinker, and that 
 generally he would hardly dare to try gymnastic exercises of the 
 understanding with him. The Parmenides alone is perfectly 
 adequate to furnish a valid proof of the severity and sureness 
 of the Platonic movement of thought, and to show irrefragably 
 that Plato's strength of understanding is equal to the living 
 power of his fancy. Here is no trace of the play and flashing 
 of the fancy, of the mingling of its poetic nature with the dry 
 course of investigation ; the examination is continued and ended 
 in the sober abstractness and precision in which it begins. This 
 dialogue is a master-piece of abstract dialectic procedure, and 
 such unquestionably it was intended to be ; Plato wished by. it 
 to legitimize himself, so to speak, as one who thoroughly under- 
 stood thinking. And precisely herein is he truly superior to 
 the great Aristotle, for Aristotle is more of a critic than a 
 thinker. He read and studied far too much for him to perse- 
 
 9 
 
130 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 vere long or to continue uninterruptedly in his own thoughts, 
 his thinking falls for the most part into judgments, or passes 
 over into argument ; the greatest part of his writings consists 
 of exceedingly clever and striking remarks. He thinks of all, 
 over all, and through all, and utters nothing which he has not 
 well considered. But his thinking is kept in progress more hy 
 the succession of objects on which it is engaged, and to which 
 it is continually attached, than progressively developed from its 
 own inner ductility. The power of adhering to and carrying 
 through a train of thought has been more clearly manifested 
 by the understanding of Plato in his works, than by the under- 
 standing of Aristotle. 
 
 That, in general, reason and imagination are not in such 
 absolute opposition as to exclude each other, but on the contrary 
 presuppose and conditionate each other in every truly great 
 mind, our good German friends might have learned long ago 
 from the greatest of their poets, if they could have descended 
 from she^er criticism to seeing and hearing. What an under- 
 standing had Goethe, and yet what an imagination ! 
 
 The feeling of reverence which we on this account pay to 
 the great poet — verily, we owe it also to the intellectual great- 
 ness of the ancient sage ! And, in the end, we shall not find 
 it difficult to explain or to pardon the boldness of the ancients 
 in calling Plato divine and a god, even though we never allow 
 our own enthusiasm for him to go quite so far. 14 
 
 11 Deus noster Plato. Cic. Orat. 3. ad Quint, fr. 1, 10. ad Att. 4, 16. 
 N. D. 2, 32, etc. He is called 'the divine' even among the Turks. Fabric. 
 Bibl.Gr.ed.Harl. 3, p. 157. 
 
PRINCIPAL FORMS OF ANCIENT GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 131 
 
 CHAPTEK III. 
 
 PRINCIPAL FORMS OF ANCIENT GREEK PHILOSOPHY, AND ITS 
 POSITION WITH RESPECT TO LIFE. 
 
 If the knowledge which we have begun to acquire of the Chris- 
 tian element in Plato is to be complete, we must direct our 
 attention principally to the spirit and essential contents of his 
 philosophy. This, however, cannot be done immediately or 
 without further preparation. For Plato's philosophy is not 
 merely his work, but also the work of his age. As, therefore, 
 we have sought in the two preceding chapters, to enable ourselves 
 to comprehend its form and its origin in the peculiarity of Plato's 
 mind, the present chapter must lead us to a point of view from 
 which we shall see it grow out of the history of Greek philo- 
 sophy and from the soil of Greek life. And while our examina- 
 tion proceeds on this road to its main object, the principal idea 
 of the whole investigation, as we have also intimated in the pre- 
 ceding chapter, is progressively developed by its side, some one 
 of its relations unfolding at every stage. 
 
 To philosophize is to reflect. 1 That is, subjectively, for 
 
 1 Concerning the origin of the expressions, Philosopher and Philosophy, 
 and the various definitions of these words among the ancients, see Brucker 
 Hist. Phil. 1, p. 1009, etc. Cf. Plat. Rep. 5, 475, c. sq. 6, 484. b. [ii. 
 pp. 162, 171]. The confusion of the mind by impressions, and the manner 
 in which it works out of this to recollection is beautifully described, Phaedr. 
 249, 250 [i. p. 325-6]. From this it is also clear why Plato makes philo- 
 sophizing begin with Qccvf&cigetv. Theaet. 155. d. [i. p. 385]. Plato himself 
 gives the best commentary on this. Rep. 7, 518. a. [ii. p. 206]. Aristotle 
 also makes philosophizing begin with admiration and end with admiring 
 nothing. Met. 1, 2. (nil admirari ! Hor. Ep. 1, 6, 1. Pythagorean.) 
 
1d'2 the subject developed genetically. 
 
 one not to allow himself to be overpowered or overwhelmed by 
 the universe of things and conceptions, but to feel himself a 
 match for it, to hold himself firmly opposite and clearly above 
 it : and objectively, to have nothing in himself unfelt or not 
 understood, but to render all correspondent to the clear unity of 
 his innermost life ; things are to reveal their sense to our sense, 
 this we desire, when we philosophize concerning them ; crudi- 
 ties are no more for our head than our stomach. 
 
 Hence, it follows, that philosophizing is a function as 
 natural and organically necessary as breathing and digestion, 
 and that every people, as every individual, begin to philosophize 
 so soon as they learn to understand themselves as men and to 
 grasp themselves in consciousness. But when philosophizing 
 begins to be active everywhere where the human consciousness 
 is roused, it by no means follows from this, that it also even- 
 where obtains an independent form. Animal life has its essen- 
 tial ground and character in nerve-life. But with how few in- 
 timations of nerve-life is nature content in the lower orders of 
 animals, before she obtains in the higher species those con- 
 ditions, which render possible its pure and full expression. 
 
 Asia, the cradle of the human race, was also the cradle of 
 philosophy. In the written monuments of ancient Asia, few of 
 which indeed have come down to us, and in the most ancient 
 traditions of those regions, we find venerable testimonies of the 
 movements and efforts of the philosophical spirit among the 
 ancient Asiatic nations. 
 
 But philosophy did not attain an independent development 
 in Asia. On the one hand, principally from historical grounds, 
 philosophy remained blended with religion ; on the other hand, 
 especially from physical causes, the Asiatic mind did not arrive 
 at proper self -reflection, but kept itself essentially in the sphere 
 of meditation. 
 
 Only on the higher plants does the light operate so energeti- 
 cally, that the leaves of the calix and corolla, which are blended 
 into one in the lower orders, separate, and the calix retires from 
 
PRINCIPAL FORMS OF ANCIENT GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 133 
 
 the corolla, to surround with friendly protection the flower 
 which it has aided to an independent existence. 
 
 So was it with philosophy in Greece. There all the favour- 
 able conditions for its independent existence were at hand, in the 
 political constitution of the state, as in the mental constitution 
 of the individuals. Under its serene sky, the cheerful mind 
 felt itself freer than elsewhere from the bonds of sensuous 
 nature with its necessities and sufferings ; for these sufferings 
 were fewer than elsewhere, and those necessities easily satisfied 
 in the richly endowed nature of the country. The innate 
 mobility of soul, especially at Athens, was increased in an im- 
 portant degree, by the early established republican constitution. 
 Almost all ranks and classes of civil society were brought into 
 constant and many-sided intercourse with each other ; almost 
 every individual felt himself in living intercommunication w T ith 
 the whole. How many sides of consciousness, in dull stupor 
 elsewhere, must have been brought out clearly here by mani- 
 fold friction with men and events ! How extraordinarily must 
 the constant conflict of private interests with those of public 
 life, have roused and strengthened the reflecting, observing, 
 calculating power of the mind ! Enough ! Grecian history 
 is, at the same time, the history of the emancipation of philo- 
 sophy. 
 
 Every plant which grows up above the soil to the light, 
 raises up with it more or less the seed-lobes from which it sprang. 
 Thus also was it with philosophy in Greece. It could not and 
 would not deny its origin from religious elements. Hence, the 
 philosophemes of the Ionian school frequently sound like ancient 
 oracles; hence, Parmenedes, Empedocles, and others, deliver 
 their philosophical theories, like the Orphics, in songs and 
 visions, and even to the latest times, down to the Physics of the 
 purely intellectual Aristotle, traces remained visible in the philo- 
 sophical contemplation of nature among the Greeks, of the living 
 connection in which it had formerly stood with the religious 
 contemplation of the universe. 
 
134 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 All heathen religions are the daughters of the feeling for 
 nature, and bear within them the germs, from which are subse- 
 quently developed philosophically, materialistic and dualistic 
 systems of Pantheism. For, not so much nature as such is the 
 object of feeling among the heathen, as rather the life in nature, 2 
 because this general life is the source of one's own and special 
 life. The sensuous, tangible, material, appears first as the es- 
 sential condition and stock of life ; the universal diffusion and 
 unceasingness of life are represented as indestructible omni- 
 potence, and from the perception of what is advantageous and 
 disadvantageous to life comes forth the antithesis of good and 
 evil (Osiris and Typhon). 
 
 Here then, we have an outline of the most ancient philo- 
 sophy in Greece. It has been said often enough, that this 
 is natural philosophy, and it has been proved in what sense it is 
 so. It must be so, because, as we have seen, it was a shoot from 
 religion. But it would have been so necessarily, even if it had 
 grown up independently of this. The inner, logical, ground of 
 this lies in the consciousness. For, consciousness is never con- 
 sciousness absolutely, but consciousness of something. But this 
 first something of consciousness, can be nothing else but the 
 world perceived by the senses. For all consciousness is roused 
 by impressions, and developes itself in contest with these. When 
 the consciousness has mastered the impression, the striving after 
 expression arises. Now, when the' philosophical consciousness 
 has attained this capability of expression, what will it seek to 
 express first, but that which has affected it first and most power- 
 fully ? viz., the great,* ever present web of life, by which it feels 
 itself contained and conditioned I 
 
 All these various efforts of the ancient Greek philosophy to 
 reflect on nature and the world, we can, or rather must, desig- 
 nate by a single name, since all together they constitute the first 
 
 2 The physical root of the conceptions good and bad, their reference to 
 life, to that which is promotive of or injurious to its development, appears 
 plainly enough in Plato. Rep. 10, 609. d. [ii. p. 279]. 
 
PRINCIPAL FORMS OF ANCIENT GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 135 
 
 main development and principal form of Greek philosophizing 1 
 And since the philosophical contemplation of nature proceeded 
 from, and was especially cultivated by that school, we will call 
 the one or first chief form of Greek philosophy, conceding that 
 this designation is more or less local and temporary, Ionicism. 
 How comprehensive this title is, will escape no one who is at all 
 acquainted with the history of philosophy : Thales, Heraclitus, 
 Anaxagoras, Empedocles, Leucippus, and Democritus, are the 
 most important individuals in this province, and collectively be- 
 long to one great whole, however divergent and various their 
 systems may appear. To adduce their views and teachings here, 
 would be an unsuitable digression to matters which lie without 
 our range of view, it must only be briefly remarked, that the 
 Pantheism of Thales, Anaxagoras, and Heraclitus, expressed it- 
 self particularly as dynamic and dualistic, that of Leucippus and 
 Democritus as materialistic and mechanical. It is, moreover, both 
 interesting and instructive, to observe, in the above named as 
 generally in the old Greek philosophers, the encroaching on each 
 other of the most various intellectual tendencies, and to perceive 
 the points or movements of thought which bring about an ap- 
 proximation to each other of essentially different doctrines. For, 
 in the philosophical schools jmd their heads, there is naturally as 
 little separation into classes as in the case of the four tempera- 
 ments. 
 
 All real intellectual freedom takes a concrete form from 
 necessity or from a passive state. This is the key to the 
 history of philosophy. Philosophy is developed and rises in 
 accordance with this law. In its first form it was unable to 
 free itself from determination by that without, or from the 
 inward being overflown by the outward. But just by this was 
 formed the second chief nucleus of its growth. That is, Eleati- 
 cism is the wider sense of the word. Eleaticism, taken strictly 
 as to its essence, is the pure antithesis of Ionicism, or the 
 transition from worldliness to wilfulness. While in Ionicism, 
 in the effort of self-reflection, the self appears only, as it were, 
 
136 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 apostrophized; in Eleaticism it appears most expressly ac- 
 cented. 3 Eleaticism then, was the struggle of the philosophical 
 consciousness, successful after its sort, to free itself from the 
 Alpine pressure of objective multiplicity, to far outweigh the 
 mass of impression and variety, by unity in the form of thought. 
 It was compelled, therefore, by its contraposition, to be as one- 
 sided as Ionicism had been. It is also easily perceived why 
 the understanding of Ionicism and Eleaticism, in so far as they 
 are antitheses, was from the first connected with the conceptions 
 of moving and motionless. 4 " Ionicism saw before it in its con- 
 templation the everlasting stream of life and change; the 
 Eleatics found in the essence of human thought the unit, ever 
 alike, and eternally unchanged. In the former, therefore, as 
 Ast expresses it, the unessential life ; in the latter, the lifeless 
 essence, formed the chief contents of philosophy. 
 
 Among the Eleatics, Parmenides is the most important and 
 the most adequate representative of its whole tendency. As 
 Ionicism obtained its greatest philosophical breadth in mate- 
 rialism or atomism; so the idealistic speculation of Eleaticism 
 rose to its highest point in Parmenides. 5 
 
 But on both sides of it we see two other forms of develop- 
 ment of Greek philosophy, which are nearer and more closely 
 related to Eleaticism in general, than to Ionicism, and hence 
 must be taken and apprehended at the same time with it. 
 They are Pythagorism and Sophisticism. What principally 
 causes Pythagorism to appear co-ordinate with Eleaticism is 
 the doctrine, which is carried out in the severest abstracted- 
 
 3 Cf. on the opposition of Ionicism and Eleaticism. Soph. 242. d, e. 
 [iii. p. 142]. 
 
 4 Theaet. 181. a. 183. e. Cf. 152. e. [i. pp. 416, 420, 382]. Crat. 
 440. c. [iii. p. 391]. See also Jacoli Sammtl. Wke. 2 pp. 68, 70. 
 
 5 Plato had a great reverence for Parmenides ; he calls him Father. 
 Soph. 237. a. 241. d. [iii. pp. 135, 142]. Especially important to Plato- 
 nism is the doctrine of Parmenides, that the reason alone is capacitated for 
 true knowledge. 
 
PRINCIPAL FORMS OF ANCIENT GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 137 
 
 ness, that numbers are the proper and eternal entities of the 
 universe, 6 while the mystico-poetic side of its cosmology in- 
 clines more to Ionicism, and the presentation of its ethical 
 points allies it to the Socratic school. Sophisticism attaches 
 itself to Eleaticism, by its often falsely applied but well cul- 
 tivated dialectics ! 7 
 
 Philosophy had made in Eleaticism no insignificant progress 
 towards its inner liberation. But the freedom to which it had 
 raised itself in Eleaticism was not the living freedom of the 
 idea, but the dead liberty of the conception. It was the 
 freedom which cannot maintain itself, as such, otherwise than 
 by a decided negation of all else without its centre. By this 
 constant readiness to defend itself or to contend with all op- 
 posed to it, it proves, however, that it is not so much freedom 
 as desirous of becoming such, and that in its inmost essence it 
 still belongs to the category of unfree things, because it fears 
 their might, and therefore ascribes to them a power and im- 
 portance equal to its own. True liberty knows that the op- 
 posite cannot harm it, can neither overthrow nor change its 
 innermost being, and therefore fears it no longer. 
 
 These two chief forms of development of Greek philosophy, 
 as they appear in Ionicism and Eleaticism, were followed by 
 Platonism, as the third and most important, completing and 
 concluding the first study of philosophy. In this position and 
 relation only is the true and full significance of Platonism 
 clearly recognized. It appears here as the genial flight of the 
 
 6 The Pythagorean doctrine of numbers is especially important to the 
 Platonic philosophy. The ideas of Plato have often been regarded as iden- 
 tical with the numbers of the Pythagoreans. 
 
 7 On the Sophists, see above, p. 64. It must be rendered especially 
 prominent in relation to Plato and the Sophists, that the latter treated 
 thought and knowledge in a highly licentious manner, applying it as they 
 pleased to all sorts of purposes, and that Plato felt himself bound to raise 
 science again from a Tietsera to the rank of a goddess, and to inculcate on 
 men a profound (Christian) feeling of respect for its dignity and excel- 
 lence. 
 
138 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 philosophical spirit to its highest goal, the removing of anti- 
 theses, the reconciliation of the quarrel between nature and 
 mind, between world- and self-consciousness. How, and by 
 what means, Platonism attempted and effected the reconcilia- 
 tion will be perceived on the consideration of its principles. 
 
 The Platonic philosophy, in spite of its high perfection, by 
 no means rendered the further development of philosophy dis- 
 pensable, but rather necessary. For it is related to the later 
 philosophy as discovery to invention ; or, as the idea to the 
 genuine scientific conception. The task of philosophy after 
 Plato was to approach for the second time the goal to which 
 Plato had raised himself, in a way in which every true progress 
 must be connected with a true enriching, strengthening, and 
 extending of the thinking powers. 
 
 So is it in the life of nature. Nature often closes a series 
 of developments already in the third or fourth evolution with 
 something exceedingly perfect, without however having con- 
 tented her plastic impulse, and without proceeding from the 
 high stage already attained to the next higher. But usually 
 she begins again as it were from the beginning with her next 
 developments, and seeks to build up again from the depths to 
 the previous elevation as if she had forgotten or unlearned her 
 former successful attempts. She ends and crowns the life of 
 grasses with the palm ; and afterwards forms cabbage and 
 weeds. 
 
 Socraticism cannot be adduced as a principal form or stage in 
 the history of Greek philosophy ; it is to be considered rather as 
 a subordinate member and the preliminary stage of Platonism, 
 a most important influence on wdrich has from the first been 
 correctly ascribed to it. But the true character of this influ- 
 ence has not always been hit upon, nor its most important 
 element brought out with sufficient definiteness. It would be 
 entirely erroneous to consider Socraticism as purely the infancy 
 of Platonism, or Platonism as only the many-sided and scientific 
 development of Socratic ideas. The history of philosophy has 
 
PRINCIPAL FORMS OF ANCIENT GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 139 
 
 already frequently laboured and lately with success, 8 to set in a 
 clear light the essential difference between the Platonic and 
 the Socratic philosophy, which really existed, notwithstanding 
 all the influence of the latter on the former. 
 
 The beneficial influence of Socrates on Plato proceeded 
 principally from two points : we may designate the one theo- 
 retic, the other practical. 
 
 In the atomic sense of the word Plato as a pupil of Socrates 
 learned infinitely little from his instructor ; in the dynamic sense, 
 on the contrary, infinitely much. The gain which Plato drew 
 from his travels and his study of the older philosophy was 
 eminently extensive; the gain which his intercourse with So- 
 crates brought him was more intensive. The former enlarged 
 and enriched his mind, exercised his power of combination and 
 raised him to that mental elevation, which ensured him a broad 
 survey. But the latter strengthened and deepened his con- 
 sciousness, and assisted in the development and cultivation of 
 his distinguished talents for the most inward mental activity, 
 which moved constantly and carefully from within outwards 
 towards an appointed goal. The ability of thinking, in the 
 true sense of the word, 9 Plato owed especially to Socrates. For 
 in this consists the chief service of Socrates to philosophy, that 
 he perceived and corrected the fundamental error in the phi- 
 losophizing of his time. This fault was the hurrying to conclu- 
 sions from premises which had not been thoroughly examined 
 and established. Hence Socrates sought to lead all efforts of 
 
 8 It is both interesting and instructive to observe the different and op- 
 posite tendencies, which have proceeded from the single school of Socrates. 
 Most of the pupils of Socrates did not apprehend nor cultivate the entire 
 philosophy of the master, but only some one side of it. Plato was the only 
 one who adopted the whole, and raised it to a higher stage. He repeat- 
 edly attacked the one-sided Socratics, especially Autisthenes, who was 
 an enemy to all speculation. Theaet. 197. c. sq. 158. c, etc. [i. pp. 438, 
 388]. 
 
 9 Socrates could stand for hours meditating and absorbed in thought. 
 Conv. 220. c. [Hi. p. 571]. A. Gell. Noct. Att. 2, 1. 
 
140 . THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 thought to the right starting-point and to the clear conscious- 
 ness of their correctness. 10 
 
 If we would weigh the influence of Socraticism on Platonism 
 in its entire significance, we must first consider an important 
 point of distinction between the ancient and our modern phi- 
 losophy, which will be seen most distinctly when we perceive 
 the position of ancient philosophy with respect to life. It is, 
 moreover, of great importance generally to an understanding of 
 the Platonic philosophy, to be aware of the essential points by 
 which the ancient is distinguished from modern philosophy. 
 
 On the first view there appears to be no important differ- 
 ence between the two. Indeed, so many resemblances present 
 themselves, that one is rather inclined to regard our modern 
 philosophy as a younger sister of the ancient. We find in the 
 latter almost the same principal ideas and definitions as in the 
 former, nearly the same speculative tendencies, pretty much the 
 same problems, investigations and proofs ; similar systems rise 
 on similar bases ; almost the same sects, schools, and parties 
 contend here as there, with the same weapons and with the 
 same heat and bitterness. For every phenomenon in the terri- 
 tory of modern philosophy, the ancient can afford one similar 
 and related, so that here also the proverb of the ancient 
 preacher receives a new confirmation : 6 There is nothing new 
 under the sun ' (Eccles. i. 9). Is even the criticism of Kant 
 so new, and never before applied, as it has been sometimes 
 maintained? Could we not speak of a Kantianism before 
 Kant, in the old Greek philosophy, just as a Spinozism before 
 Spinoza has been spoken of ? 
 
 But the feeling of resemblance between the ancient and 
 modern philosophy, which arises on such considerations, is 
 
 10 Cf. Arist. Met. 13, 4. Hence Plato insisted always on the greatest 
 circumspection with respect to the starting-point in philosophizing. Crat. 
 436. d. [iii. p. 387]. Cf. Polit. 278. e. etc. [iii. p. 225]. Hence also the 
 great weight which he lays on definitions. Phaedr. 237. c. [i. p. 312]. 
 But definitions of things, not word-definitions. 
 
PRINCIPAL FORMS OF ANCIENT GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 141 
 
 almost certainly overpowered by the feeling of essential differ- 
 ence, which obtains on a closer investigation of the subject. 
 This difference is already sufficiently evident with respect to 
 farm. Read immediately after the Nicomachian Ethics of 
 Aristotle a compendium of ethics of the Kantian or Hegelian 
 school, — what a decided contrast between the two, in form, 
 language, arrangement, and development ! And yet, Aristotle 
 is the one among the ancient philosophers who stands nearest 
 to the philosophers of the present day in his mode of treating 
 philosophical subjects ! 
 
 How much does the philosophy of the present day diverge 
 from the ancients in the number and division of the philo- 
 sophical sciences ! for, with every organic development, the 
 originally single whole divides ever more and more into inde- 
 pendent particulars. The patriarchs were shepherds, hunters, 
 warriors, priests and kings, all in one person, and the ancient 
 priesthood comprised within it, besides the liturgical, rhetorical 
 and prophetic offices, the practice also of astronomy and medi- 
 cine. So ancient philosophy was originally an undivided whole, 
 which did not separate into its main branches till after Plato. 
 What occurred in the ancient philosophy as occasional reflection, 
 has extended itself in that of the present day to a distinct sphere 
 of learning. The ancient philosophy was a hall ; the modern 
 is a city, with many separate streets, squares and houses ; the 
 ancient philosophers perambulated the entire hall, the modern 
 are for the most part properly at home only in a certain quarter 
 of the city. 
 
 But the modern philosophy is essentially different from the 
 ancient not in form only, but in spirit also. The ancient philo- 
 sophy is related to the modern in this respect, somewhat as in- 
 nocence and simplicity to dissension and consciousness. In the 
 ancient philosophy, inquiry was a pure and simple activity of 
 the mind ; in the modern it is more or less contaminated and 
 duplex throughout ; contaminated by the many self-feelings of 
 consciousness, winch very often rouses its powers for no other 
 
142 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 object than that during the excitement it may apprehend and 
 feel itself ; duplex, in so far as every act of knowing is at the 
 same time a self-knowledge, every act of thinking proceeds so 
 to speak, contemporaneously with itself, and sees and regards 
 itself. The ancients in their philosophizing knew at bottom 
 only one thing, what they wished to do, but not what they most 
 ought, nor what they could and could not do, hovered plainly 
 before their eyes. 11 For philosophy was then an Australia, un- 
 explored in the interior, and not known exactly as to it bound- 
 aries. We have the advantage of a distinct survey of the main 
 problems and errors of the ancients, without, however, having 
 obtained by this alone a greater approximation to the truth ; 
 for, as it is not promotive of virtue to become acquainted with 
 all sins and crimes in their true nature, just so little is our 
 wisdom specially promoted by perceiving all the blue spots which 
 it has acquired in contest with errors; it suffers for its inter- 
 course with errors by the loss of a part of its power and fresh- 
 ness. 
 
 * . : - Religion also causes an essential difference between the 
 ancient and modern philosophy. On the latter Christianity 
 ever exerts a powerful influence ; in the former, we see the in- 
 fluence of heathenism. Classic heathenism rested, as we per- 
 ceived, on a healthy sensuousness and delight in the world. 
 The whole antique life is hence throughout firmer, more concrete 
 and realistic than ours ; and so is also the antique philosophy. 
 Our philosophy, since it has more to do with thought than with 
 nature and human life, is far more attenuated and spiritualistic 
 than the ancient. So complete a separation of all material from 
 the thinking subject,, so methodical an isolation of the individu- 
 
 11 Even the philosophizing of Plato seems often to be only a groping or 
 assaying. Thought seeks to move now in this, now in that direction, in 
 order to see how far and whither it will come; it sets up now this, now 
 that, and assaults it from all sides, in order to see whether it will stand 
 firm and be tenable or not. We must not, however, overlook the fact, that 
 all this in Plato is often more an acting uncertainly than a being uncer- 
 tain. 
 
PRINCIPAL FORMS OF ANCIENT GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 143 
 
 ality, and so thorough an elevation of bloodless abstraction into 
 pure metaphysical nihility, as has become possible and prevalent 
 at the present day, the ancients knew little of, and accomplished 
 but seldom, if it all. Abstract personality had not yet become 
 with them as with us, a world in itself ; a single person passed 
 for but little among them; religiously considered, he melted 
 from their sight into the infinite All ; politically viewed, when 
 opposed to the common weal, he sank almost into nothing. The 
 disunion between idea and fact, between the schools and life 
 had not yet accordingly grown so absolute as among us. And 
 this circumstance is the principal foundation of a distinction 
 between the ancient and modern philosophies, which is highly 
 important in itself, as well as for the following examination. 
 
 The ancient philosophy stood in every respect nearer to life 
 and applied itself thereto more diligently, than ours. In its de- 
 rivation, in its inquiries and communications, in its whole 
 nature and activity, the old philosophy appears as appertaining 
 and related to practical life. In ours, its very idiom betrays 
 that it was born and brought up apart from life ; the book and 
 the school, not life, are the element in which it moves. Our 
 philosophy seeks for the (ideal) truth ; the ancient for that 
 which is (really) true, namely, for things that are true ; our 
 philosophy abstracts itself for the most part from the real, the 
 ancient consists chiefly in a continual reflection thereon ; our 
 philosophy strives after an independent existence in system and 
 science as the highest ; the ancient desired most to exist, not 
 for itself, but as correct thinking diffused through all minds. 
 Among us the value of philosophizing is determined specula- 
 tively, among the ancients eminently practically, the former 
 philosophy is most highly esteemed, the latter was most effective. 
 The connection between philosophy and life was natural and 
 immediate in antiquity, among us it is mediate and manu- 
 factured. The ancients philosophized with and among men, our 
 philosophers philosophize usually only when they are not among 
 men, but among books by themselves in their sanctums : those 
 
144 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 were the formers of youth ; 12 these are principally the tutors of 
 future scholars. A scholar of the nineteenth century and a 
 Hebrew prophet are certainly things widely different ; and the 
 Greek philosophers were not indeed quite the same as the He- 
 brew prophets, and for conceivable reasons could not be so ; 
 certain however it is, that the life-significance of the ancient 
 Greek philosophy is perceived most clearly, when it is con- 
 sidered as a phenomenon analogous to the prophetic dispensation. 
 For ancient Greek philosophy desired to be in fact, with 
 respect to life, not merely an Encyclopaedia of knowledge, but 
 also a source of power and salvation, 13 and the forming and 
 ordering spirit for the whole of life and all its relations. As 
 the Apostles required the Christians to carry their Christianity 
 into all the concerns of life, learning even to eat and drink in 
 the name of the Lord (1 Cor. x. 31), so ancient philosophy de- 
 sired to bring about a not less universal connection between 
 itself and life, and to aid in the regulation and management not 
 merely of affairs of state, but even of the family and the forum. 14 
 Education was to be exclusively in its hands ; even Art was to 
 go to school to it, and it maintained that it alone, or at least it 
 best, could produce morality and nobility of soul ; like the 
 Christian clergy, the ancient philosophers considered themselves 
 as having the care of souls, and toiled zealously and not with- 
 
 12 Ancient philosophy desired to be that in life which should ronse men 
 from their dreams and put their souls in a truly awakened condition. Cf. 
 above, p. 131, n. 1, and Eep. 5, 476. sq. 6, 484. b. [ii. pp. 163, 170]. The 
 passage in Rep. 6, 494. a. [ii. p. 181], that only very few men are, or can 
 be, philosophers, as little contains an absolute contradiction to the above 
 remark, as Matt. xix. 30 to 1 Tim. ii. 4. Moreover the saying, 'Many are 
 called,' etc., was proverbial also among the heathen. Phaed. 69. c. [i. 
 p. 68]. 
 
 13 CicTTusc. 1, 26. The Biblical idea of salvation was not foreign to 
 heathendom. Even Democritus designated philosophy an institution for 
 the salvation of the soul. Clem. Al. Paed. 1. p. 60. d. Cic. Tusc. 3, 3. 
 Cf. 4. 27. See on the comprehensive capacity of philosophy. lb. 5, 2. 
 Cf. Plat. Rep. 5, 475. c. [ii. p. 162]. Conv. 210. d. iii. p. 550]. 
 
 14 Prot. 318. e. [i. p. 247]. 
 
PRINCIPAL FORMS OF ANCIENT GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 145 
 
 out success for the conversion and reformation of the vicious. 
 The ancient philosophy strove also after religious importance 
 and influence, and it was not incorrectly remarked, as we have 
 seen, by Clement of Alexandria, that philosophy wished to 
 serve, and really did serve, Greek life as a kind of precursor 
 ind substitute for Christianity. 
 
 The near position and inner relation of the ancient philo- 
 ophy to practical life proceeds necessarily from the peculiar 
 node of living among the ancients. Life in antiquity had, for 
 die most 'part, on account of the republican state-constitution, 
 a publicity, an universality and mobility of interests of which 
 we in our separatistic mode of thinking and living have scarcely 
 any idea. To speak, act, see and hear, were, in antiquity, the 
 life-acts of the people and the individuals ; among us very little 
 is spoken and done publicly ; much more read and thought at 
 home. In antiquity life moved on out of doors, among us it 
 sits behind closed doors. There the market, the baths, gardens, 
 gymnasiums, race-course, and sacred groves, were the places 
 of meeting and exercise of men and thoughts. No gloomy 
 lecture-room secluded the philosophers with their pupils from 
 active life ; the masters delivered lectures to their disciples as 
 they walked under plane-trees or in porticos, the philosophical 
 discourse was joined on to every day conversation ; philo- 
 sophizing was not pinched up between sections and paragraphs, 
 as at the present day, when it cannot begin until the tutor has 
 found the page of his compendium, at which he stopped, and 
 immediately ceases when he closes the book and leaves the desk, 
 but passing over quickly and easily from the tone of the school 
 to that of conversation, it was to be found everywhere ready at 
 hand. 
 
 The above remarks on ancient philosophy and its relation 
 to life are most true, as every one knows, of the philosophy of 
 Socrates. It was especially the endeavour and the merit of 
 Socrates that he cultivated the natural tendency of philosophy 
 to life, and rendered it practical wisdom ; and this is what Cicero 
 
 10 
 
146 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 means, when he says : 15 i Socrates called down, philosophy from 
 heaven, and brought it into life.' Yet Socrates would not have 
 adopted the thought of forming a matrimonial alliance between 
 philosophy and life, with such decision, nor could he have 
 effected its realization with so much success, if the thought had 
 not been prevalent before, and its carrying out prepared for by 
 various favourable circumstances. 
 
 Among the pupils of Socrates none apprehended the favourite 
 thought of the noble master with more enthusiasm, maintained 
 it with more power and love, and strove to conduct it further 
 than the practically and intellectually energetic Plato. The 
 influence of Socrates over him from this side is of the highest 
 importance to an understanding and estimation of the Platonic 
 philosophy. In other respects, and especially with respect to 
 severe scientific character and versatility of reflection, Plato the 
 philosopher was essentially different from Socrates the philo- 
 sopher ; but with respect to the blessed influence of philosophy 
 on life he agreed perfectly with the latter. With the same 
 energy, if not with the same success, he continued the work 
 begun by his great master, and laboured to open and render 
 accessible the sources of true wisdom to all the relations of life. 
 He had especially at heart the politico-religious regeneration of 
 his country by philosophy, and he would indeed have effected 
 it, according to his spirit and striving, if it could be effected by 
 an idea and by the recognition and reverence of the truth. 
 That the world would and could not be better till philosophers 
 were kings, or kings philosophers, 16 was an earnest and hearty 
 conviction of his mind, which, though certainly not absolutely 
 correct, has been often unjustly ridiculed. Por this expression 
 must be apprehended in the sense of Plato before it can be 
 properly explained or allowed. Yes, if every one of those who 
 
 15 Cic. Tusc. 5, 4. Cf. Ac. qu. 1. 4, 5. How ccelum is to be under- 
 stood here is evident from Plat. Phaed. 96. a. 97. b. [i. p. 102-3]. 
 
 16 Eep. 5, 473. e. sq. 6, 485. a. [ii. pp. 160, 173, etc.]. Cf. Capit. Vit. 
 Ant. 27, and Philo. Vit. Mos. 2. abin. 
 
PRINCIPAL FORMS OF ANCIENT GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 147 
 
 at this day call themselves philosophers, and stand as such in 
 the titles of books, should request, with reference to this Pla- 
 tonic expression, the government of states and the world, and 
 wish to conduct the same — then the prophetic word of the an- 
 cient sage might indeed require a considerably long time for its 
 real fulfilment. But to such philosophers as Plato means, and 
 as it would be difficult to find, on this sublunary sphere, the reali- 
 zation of that somewhat bold expectation might of course be 
 more readily intrusted. 
 
 This sketch of the relation of philosophy to practical life in 
 ancient times will not fail to be attacked and contradicted. Are 
 we told, it will be said, that ancient philosophy was practical 
 wisdom not scholastic science ? that it spoke a language intel- 
 ligible in common life, that it stood in an intimate relation to 
 life, and powerfully influenced all its relations ? As if we did 
 not know how exactly the ancient philosophers were accustomed 
 to fix the outward limits to their circle of instruction, and to 
 communicate the whole of their science, without reserve, only 
 within the school and to their select disciples ! As if we did 
 not know how the greatest philosophers held themselves apart 
 from life, and did not consider the great public worthy of the 
 communication of their views ! As if we did not know in what 
 strictly scientific language most of their works were composed, 
 though very few of them have come down to us ! As if we did 
 not know how merry the comedians and satirists made them- 
 selves over the strange idiom of the philosophers, and how the 
 unintelligibility of his expression brought on Heraclitus the 
 soubriquet of The Obscure. 17 As if we we did not know that 
 the practical importance which the ancient philosophy so 
 eminently possessed and strove after can be ascribed not less 
 correctly to the modern philosophy also ! Has not our philo- 
 sophy promised loudly and frequently enough that it will be 
 all in all to practical life, and will lay its foundations as deeply 
 
 17 Diog. La. 2, 22. Cic. N.D. 1, 26. 
 
148 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 as it will highly elevate and bless and glorify it I Does it not 
 then frequently enough come forth from the schools to preach 
 to life and to ameliorate it 1 Does it not recommend urgently 
 enough to life its precepts for all life's greater and lesser rela- 
 tions 1 Does it not labour with sufficient zeal and assiduity in 
 the construction of the best state and the best world 1 And was 
 not the public, in classic antiquity, fully as ungrateful and un- 
 receptive for the gifts and offerings of philosophy as at the 
 present day ? Philosophy manifested in antiquity by no means 
 so decided and thorough an approximation to life, as it has been 
 maintained ; but life advanced to meet philosophy in a still less 
 friendly manner, and still less willingly received its directions. 
 On the contrary, life met philosophy with contempt, 18 with con- 
 tempt it rejected the offered services, and in the execution of 
 Socrates it pronounced most unambiguously its view of, and dis- 
 position towards, philosophy. And ancient history furnishes not 
 a few such examples of the violent distaste of practical men for 
 philosophy. We need mention only the sentence of banishment 
 against Protagoras, Diagoras, Anaxagoras, Hermodorus, and 
 others. Was not Aristotle himself obliged to escape by flight 
 from the danger which threatened his life. 19 Do we not read, 
 for instance, how Callicles, in the Gorgias of Plato, expresses 
 himself concerning philosophy? 20 For youths, he says, it is 
 quite suitable to awaken and exercise their mental powers by 
 philosophizing. But when he sees men, and even old men, 
 busy themselves with philosophy, it is as contrary and disquieting 
 to him as when he hears adults lisp and prattle like children. 
 
 18 Eep. 6. 487. d. [ii. p. 174]. Plato himself seems to have admitted 
 as correct the common prejudice against the usefulness of philosophers in 
 daily life. Theaet. 174. a. [i. p. 409]. Yet it was, in fact, his serious 
 opinion, that no one is more fit for the conduct of affairs than the philo- 
 sopher. 
 
 19 See on this point Diog. La. 2, 19 ; 5, 5 ; 9, 1. Ael. Yar. hist. 3, 26. 
 Plat. Per. c. 32. Cic. N. D. 1, 23. 
 
 20 Gorg. 485. a. 487. b. [i. pp. 182, 185]. Eep. 6, 489. c. [ii. 
 p. 176]. 
 
PRINCIPAL FORMS OF ANCIENT GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 149 
 
 And unquestionably Plato here makes Callicles express the then 
 prevalent public opinion. 
 
 But these and other particulars cannot afford a refutation 
 of the views presented above. For, if much were to be gained 
 by so doing, we might show each of these to be in part favour- 
 able and in part repugnant, to our view. If Heraclitus was 
 reproached for his obscurity, this testifies that the abstruse 
 method of presenting philosophical doctrines, was unusual, and 
 had an air of strangeness. And, though most philosophical 
 works of the ancients have, like ours, a scholarly form, yet, they 
 were composed more in the tone and character of discussions, 
 than in that of our text-books and compendiums : and, if Plato 
 had intended his works for the school and not for the public, 
 he would have written them in a systematic form, and not in 
 one taken from every-day life. However separated and secluded 
 from practical life, single schools may have been, the majority 
 of them always counted on a general sympathy on the part of 
 the educated public, and even women, to whom, in other re- 
 spects, very little freedom was allowed in Grecian life, were 
 frequently to be found in the circle of those who hung on the 
 lips of their sage instructors. The closest friendship existed 
 between Pericles and Anaxagoras ; Philip chose Aristotle for 
 the tutor of his son Alexander ; and even the tyrant Dionysius, 
 took pleasure in the instructions of Plato. And, if we see on 
 the one hand, that the philosophers suffered shame and perse- 
 cution from the general public, yet we behold no less on the 
 other hand, splendid tokens of honour, by which the public testi- 
 fied their diligence in glorifying the worth and merits of cele- 
 brated philosophers. 21 The execution of Socrates, moreover, far 
 from refuting the powerful influence of ancient philosophy 
 
 21 Protagoras was revered as a god before his banishment. Theaet. 
 179. a. [i. p. 414]. Rep. 10, 600. c. [ii. p. 290]. Athens bestowed the 
 freedom of the city on Pyrrho, and Elis granted exemption from taxes to all 
 philosophers for his sake. It is well known what extraordinary reverence 
 Zeno, Polemon, Crates, and others, enjoyed. 
 
150 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 on practical life, is, on the contrary, when rightly estimated, one 
 of its strongest proofs. For men will never express or behave 
 themselves with violence, for or against anything, unless they 
 detect its living influence in their midst. They would have 
 risen and resisted neither the Gospel nor the Socratic philosophy, 
 if they had not early felt, in the case of the former, as in that of 
 the latter, its purpose and capacity to penetrate deeply into 
 their organic life, in order to destroy the bad in them, and to 
 reform and invigorate the good. 
 
 Yet, the weighing of such single speeches and counter- 
 speeches does not contribute very much to the establishment of 
 the truth. It has been already intimated above, how easy it is 
 to abate somewhat from any assertion, or to distort it. It is 
 even quite clear and conceivable, that no truth can be expressed 
 in such a form as to render it absolutely impossible to contra- 
 dict it from some point or side. Shall we then, in order to 
 avoid contradiction, keep all our thoughts and expressions con- 
 tinually in suspense, and be very careful not to assert anything 
 decidedly ? If such a prudent caution were general, how could 
 we gain or promote any fixed knowledge 1 
 
 He who would aid his readers or hearers in obtaining a clear 
 view or insight, cannot effect this otherwise than by drawing 
 the chords, which are to give the clear tone, a little tightly, or 
 giving them a somewhat sharp tuning. For, if he do not, the 
 vibrations flow, without character, into one another, and produce 
 no clearly felt impression on the consciousness. The atmos- 
 phere and the public will take care unbidden of the necessary 
 lowering of the sharp tones. 
 
 With this view of the ancient Greek philosophy in its prin- 
 cipal forms and in its position with respect to life, we are now 
 sufficiently capacitated to turn our attention to the philosophy of 
 Plato himself, and to apprehend those features and doctrines 
 which *are most important for our present purpose. 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 151 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 1 
 
 Plato says, 2 i Thinking is asking. The interrogatory impulse 
 exists in every sonl ; though not always felt, nor satisfied in the 
 proper manner. Those who feel it strongly, and strive after its 
 true satisfaction carefully and unceasingly, — they are the truly 
 
 1 Let it not be overlooked that these are ' Principles,' not an exhaustive 
 and comprehensive presentation of the Platonic Ideas ! Only those are to 
 be presented which are most calculated to produce a lively impression of the 
 peculiar bearing and spirit of Platonism, and from that side which is nearest 
 to Christianity. The order and sequence of the thoughts was in part con- 
 ditioned by this, and I hope I shall not be censured that in this I have de- 
 viated from the usual mode of representation in compartments. It could 
 not and might not be my object to tell the reader, in this chapter, what 
 Plato thought and taught on this and that subject; but my main endeavour 
 was to be directed to producing before the eye of the reader an organic pro- 
 cess of the development and movement of that which is essentially Pla- 
 tonic, and to transfer this process, as much as possible, into its own inner 
 activity. In accordance with the thorough teleological character of Pla- 
 tonism, the whole was so to be displayed as to render expressly prominent its 
 characters as having an aim and purpose. I believed further that I need 
 have no hesitation in here and there sacrificing scientific precision to in- 
 telligibility. 
 
 2 It seemed to me entirely inadmissible and highly un-Platonic to inter- 
 rupt, every moment, the vital connection of the following series of ideas, 
 drawn chiefly from Plato, by citations and proof passages, which, by their 
 nature, are only atomistic, and therefore un-Platonic. He who would be 
 thoroughly convinced of the real Platonic character of what is said, will do 
 best to investigate carefully Plato's works. But for those who adhere 
 rather to the single, numerically accumulating parts than to the living 
 whole, I will adduce in order the most fertile and convincing passages in 
 his writings, in which my representation is principally based. The flight 
 
152 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 philosophical natures. They are satisfied, neither with an 
 answer given them by others, nor by one afforded halfway in 
 the examination : they desire of themselves and completely to 
 attain the object after w T hich they strive. 
 
 That, after which thought inquires, it declares with suffi- 
 cient plainness, viz. ; that which ia } existence and the existent. 
 Consequently, thought can only be satisfied by the attainment 
 of Being ; but when it has apprehended Being, it will not ask 
 further, but feel itself really satisfied. 
 
 That which excites in us the impulse of inquiry, is the 
 world and life which surrounds us with its everlasting change 
 of phenomena. The universe of phenomenal things is ever in 
 an immense flight. The soul inflamed with desire after the 
 existent, asks everything, every phenomenon of the world : 
 Art thou ? But things and phenomena have no time to answer ; 
 
 of things, the Becoming : Theaet. 152. cl. e. [i. p. 382]. Tim. 49. c. sq. 
 [ii. p. 355]. Being, the ever consistent, true : Tim. 27. e. 52. a. [ii. pp. 
 332, 358]. Phaed. 80. b. [i. p. 83]. Phil. 59. c. [iv. p. 95]. Eep. 7, 
 526. e. [ii. p. 216]. The existence of the non-existent, being in becoming, 
 participation in being. Soph. 257. a. sq. Conv. 208. a. sq. [iii. pp. 168, 
 549 eq.]. Phaed. 100. b. c. [i. p. 106]. Thinking a questioning, and ques- 
 tioning out, i.e., intellectual regaining of the existent. Theaet. 189. e. 
 Phaedr. 249. b. c. [i. pp. 428-9, 325]. Soph. 263. e. [iii. p. 177]. Eep. 6, 
 490. b. Tim. 51. e. sq. [ii. pp. 176, 358]. Stages of knowledge, concep- 
 tion, opinion, knowledge of the understanding, insight of the reason : Phil. 
 39. a. 59. b. [iv. pp. 58, 94]. Tim. 27, e. Eep. 6, 511. d. e. [ii. 332, 
 200-1]. Conceptions, and their objects, the Ideas : Phaedr. 237. c, d. [i, 
 p. 312]. Eep. 6, 510. c. sq. 7, 534, a. sq. 10, 596. sq. [ii. pp. 199, 200 ; 
 223, 285]. Parm. 132. a. sq. Crat. 389. a. sq. [iii. pp. 412, 293]. Phil. 
 15. b. sq. 16 c. sq. [iv. pp. 11, 14]. The idea of Good, the highest. Eep. 
 7, 517. b. c. [ii. p. 205], Connection of ideas, Science ; Philosophy the 
 science of the True in opposition to knowledge of the seeming : Eep. 5, 
 478. a. 7, 515. b. sq. 535. b. sq. [ii. pp. 166, 203, 224, etc.]. Theaet. 
 185. c. sq. [i. p. 422]. Phil. 58. a. [iv. pp. 92, 93]. Dialectics, the 
 most important part of philosophy. Eep. 7, 532. b. [ii. p. 223]. Soph. 
 253. d. [iii. p. 161]. Phil. 57. e. [iv. p. 91]. God, knowing and will- 
 ing, spirit and power, all-moving: (Life). Tim. 68. d. [ii. p. 379]. Phil. 
 30. c. eq. [iv. pp. 41, 42]. Phaedr. 245. c. sq. [i. p. 321]. Soph. 248. b. 
 sq. [iii. p. 152]. Moral evil, and its power, connected with the nature of 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 153 
 
 for, in an instant, the stream of movement and change has caught 
 them and borne them away. 
 
 Yet, that in us which calls the phenomena to account, allows 
 itself to be neither mocked nor deafened by this endless flight, 
 rather, so soon as it has felt its inner power and essentiality, it 
 keeps itself firm and unterrified within itself, and knows how to 
 grow up to the everlastingly moved, and even to surpass it. 
 Therefore, it struggles with it, and does not leave it until it has 
 wrung from it the confession of its essential character. — (Cf . 
 Genesis xxxii. 26.) 
 
 For, in the fact that the mind is conscious of this question- 
 ing is contained the certainty for it, both that there is such 
 Being as it inquires after, and that this is comprehensible by it 3 
 otherwise, the asking thereafter would or could not at all arise 
 in the mind. Only therefore by penetration, endurance, and 
 
 the mutable : Tim. 48. a. sq. Eep. 10, 608. e. sq. [ii. pp. 353, 299]. Pol. 
 269. e. sq. [iii. p. 210]. Legg. 10, 896. e. 897. d. [v. p. 425. sq.]. The 
 animal part of the life of the soul: Pol. 309. c. e. [iii. pp. 276-7]. 
 Rep. 9. 589. d. [ii. p. 280]. The unhappiness of the servants of 
 sense and sin, both in life and after death. Eep. 4, 445. b. c. 9, 574. a. 
 sq. 586. a. sq. 579. d. 10, 613. d. Tim. 86. b. sq. [ii. pp. 130, 263, 276, 
 268, 304, 402]. Gorg. 493. b. c. 507. c. d. 524, e. sq. Phaedr. 81. c. sq. 
 [i. pp. 191, 192, 210, 229, 84]. Wisdom, a Saviour; Phaedr. 82. e. sq. 
 Prot. 352. b. c. Phaedr. 249. c. sq. [i. pp. 86, 283, 325, sq.]. Eep. 7, 
 515. e. sq. 10, 611. d. e. [ii. pp. 203, 302]. True self-knowledge, painful 
 separation from the world of illusion : Rep. 7, 515. e. 527. e. 533. d. 10, 
 611. d. [ii. pp. 203, 216, 223, 302]. Phaed. 80. b. [i. p. 83]. Ale. 1, 
 133. b. [iv. p. 366]. Turning to the everlasting kingdom of truth: 
 Phaedr. 248. b. [i. p. 324]. Rep. 6, 508. b. 7, 521. c. sq. [ii. pp. 197, 209. 
 sq.]. Pure love, a condition of true knowledge: Rep. 6, 490. b. c. [ii. 
 p. 176]. Conv. 210. a. sq. [iii. p. 550]. Phaedr. 256. e. sq. [i. p. 333]. 
 Organic connection of Physics, Ethics, Dialectics ; world and nature, one 
 whole : Rep. 6, 508. a. sq. 7, 523. a. sq. Tim. 30. d. eq. 37. a. sq. [ii. 
 pp. 197, 211 ; 334, 340]. Pol. 273. b. e. Men. 81. c. d. [iii. pp. 216, 20]. 
 Phaedr. 269. e. [i. p. 349]. Order, harmony, number and measure, beauty : 
 Gorg. 508. a. Prot. 326. b. [i. pp. 210, 254], Phil. 18. a. 64. e. [iv. 
 pp. 19, 105]. Significance of music: Rep. 3, 401. d. [ii. p. 84]. Legg. 
 3, 689. d. [v. p. 99]. End of all life and endeavour : Conv. 205. a. [iii. 
 p. 538]. Phil. 20. d. [iv. p. 23]. Legg. 10, 904. [v. p. 444]. 
 
154 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 sacred earnestness, can Being be attained by thought ; the many 
 unsuccessful attempts cannot affright the brave heart. 
 
 But if thought can attain to Being and receive it into itself, 
 then the two cannot be originally and essentially distinct. 
 Rather must thought resemble Being in its innermost essence, 
 and the two must somewhere lap over and be one with each 
 other. The attainment of the thinking mind to Being should 
 accordingly be styled not so much a union, as a reunion. 
 
 This reunion however would be neither necessary nor diffi- 
 cult if there were not on the other hand also a separation. 
 There is therefore separation only not absolute but relative. 
 But from this it follows, at the same time, that the reunion 
 also can only be relative, or proceeding into the endless, since 
 the separating element never would have been nor could be the 
 separating, if it could ever entirely cease to exist as the sepa- 
 rating. The re-apprehension of Being by thought cannot take 
 place thoroughly, much less be accomplished by a single stroke. 
 
 The relative comprehension of Being devolves on thought 
 as a perception or as a knowing. Perfect knowledge man 
 cannot possess in this life, he can only glory in a purely loving 
 endeavour thereafter. The more knowing a man thinks him- 
 self to be, the further is he from true knowledge. The beginning 
 of true wisdom is to not yet consider one's-self wise. 
 
 What then is that separating element which allows to the 
 inquiring mind only a gradual apprehension ? Since it cannot 
 be Being itself, it can be nothing else than the counterpart of 
 Being, or different to it, or the non-existent ; since it is never 
 and nowhere apprehended as Being and the existent, we call it 
 the Becoming. 
 
 The Becoming as such is evidently not merely something 
 without the thinking subject and lying opposite to it, so that 
 the thinker advancing towards the existent could avoid it, or 
 allow it to remain on one side ; much rather by its power does 
 it hold and condition the mind from all sides, and penetrates 
 also with sufficient versatility into the whole course of thought, 
 
THE PKINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 155 
 
 producing within the soul as rapid and constant a change of 
 thoughts, as without it an uninterrupted change of colours and 
 forms. 
 
 Thus then we recognize the existent, ever the same ; and 
 the becoming, ever different, to be essential opposites, and per- 
 ceive at the same time, that the determination or true concep- 
 tion of their true relation to each other forms the first and 
 greatest problem for the thinker, and that the successful navi- 
 gation of the high seas of knowledge depends on the safe 
 passage through these perilous straits. 
 
 Being and Becoming were the Sylla and Chaiybdis of the 
 earlier thinkers ; the whirlpool of the becoming engulphed 
 some, the others were shattered on the rocks of the existent. 
 
 Were there nothing but the sensible, ever changing, were 
 everything apprehended in an incessant flux, as the materialists 
 and the Ionic muses maintained, no knowledge or science at all 
 would be possible : for the inquirer could disclose nothing of 
 that which he had apprehended, because he himself as well as 
 that which he apprehended, was changing his nature every 
 moment. And yet there is science and knowledge. There 
 must be, therefore, besides the changing, something which re- 
 mains ever the same. 
 
 But were there nothing but the existent, and had that which 
 remains the same, singly and alone, existence of and in itself, 
 no error would be possible, nor any knowledge of the becoming : 
 for then, since nothing at all would exist besides being, thought 
 would be always on or in the existent, and therefore could 
 neither err nor think of things in a state of becoming. 
 
 Now, if accordingly we are to hold fast both, and are not 
 permitted to deny one in favour of the other, neither the 
 existent nor the becoming, and yet may not oppose the two to 
 each other as fixed antitheses, then the correct conception of 
 the difficult relation can, in the first instance, be derived only 
 from the more correct apprehension of the becoming or the 
 non-existent. 
 
156 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 Being, in so far as it conditions knowledge, was rightly 
 apprehended by the Eleatics ; their chief fault consisted in 
 ignoring the being of the non-existent. To recognize the being 
 of the non-existent is of the utmost importance to philosophy. 
 
 The non-existent is not perhaps not, but it is ; but its being 
 is not the being of the existent. The ugly has as good an 
 existence as the beautiful, although, it is a non-existent ; viz., 
 in respect of the existence of the beautiful. 
 
 But when once the being of the non-existent is perceived, 
 then soon comes out clearly the true relation between being 
 and becoming, and the living unity of the two. 
 
 If this unity, as decided above, does not consist in setting 
 aside either the one or the other, it consists still less in the 
 contemporary elevation of both, or in mixing them together in 
 equal parts ; but, in their reciprocal relation to each other, and 
 in a higher third or first in which both are contained, and 
 from which both equally of necessity proceed. 
 
 The non-existent being then, as we have shown, a being 
 different from the existent, it is not absolutely opposed to the 
 existent, but to the not being different to the existent, that is, 
 the existence of the existent ; and the relation is accordingly so 
 constituted, that the one existence conditions and comprehends, 
 within itself, the two antitheses, the existence of the existent, 
 and the non-existence of the existent, or the becoming. False, 
 therefore, is every apprehension of the becoming which makes 
 existence absolutely the exact opposite of becoming ; there is as 
 little a direct opposition between becoming and existing, as 
 between the existence of the existent and existence ; but the 
 opposition appears merely between the existence of the existent 
 and the becoming. 
 
 The becoming is, in itself, the undetermined : the existence 
 of the existent is consequently the determined : the becoming 
 makes itself known, in apparent determinations, in modes and 
 forms : this can proceed only from the relation in which the 
 becoming stands to the existing determinations or determined 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 157 
 
 existences, and the part it takes in them. The determinate 
 existences are ideas. As there is a world of phenomena, so 
 there is a world of ideas, which have a constant and intimate 
 relation to the non-existence of the existent, i.e., the phenomenal. 
 
 Phenomena are related to ideas, as appearance to essence, 
 or as the not-true to the true. The apprehension of the true 
 is like the perception of the existent, or the existent is the true. 
 Since now phenomena are without participation in the existent, 
 so here also the origin of deception and error becomes plain 
 and explicable. Error is nothing else than the equalization of 
 the non-existent and the existent, which is possible by virtue of 
 the existence of the non-existent. He who conceives or ex- 
 presses a non-existent, as if it were an existent, fails or errs. 
 
 But from this it follows, at the same time, that however 
 diverse and opposite the existent and the non-existent always 
 are, still the two worlds, that of ideas and that of phenomena, 
 are closely connected with each other. Had ideas, as the 
 idealists say, ever only a pure existence in and of themselves, 
 and were they not joined to each other and the becoming, they 
 could neither be known, nor represented and arranged in scien- 
 tific categories. The knowableness of ideas necessarily pre- 
 supposes a certain passive relation of them ; yet this passivity 
 cannot be such as to change their nature. 
 
 This passivity may also be regarded, on the other hand, as 
 an acting and working ; for the thinking subject does not 
 make the existent by his thinking, but the existent by its 
 existence renders the thinking true perception. Powerful or 
 living is, therefore, to be taken as the correct designation of the 
 relation which obtains between ideas, and between them and 
 the phenomenal world. The former are ever in and for the 
 latter, neither of the two worlds is ever without the other. 
 The non-existent wills ever to become existent, because the 
 existent is ever existent, not for itself, but for the becoming. 
 There is a demonstrable living connection of the existent and 
 the becoming in every conception ; every conception has, in 
 
158 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 itself at the same time, the one and the many, and expresses the 
 one no less than the many, even as a word is a unit as a sound, 
 and at the same time a multiplicity of single letters. 
 
 This living connection remains incomprehensible as to its 
 true nature so long as thought stops with the antitheses as 
 such. The mutual relation of these antitheses can be livingly 
 known only from that higher unity which ever lies at the base 
 of antitheses. 
 
 This higher unity, which is the cause and condition of all 
 being, as well as of all becoming and motion, without itself 
 being conditioned by either, and without being of the kind or 
 nature of either, is God. 
 
 That God is the cause and condition of all being and 
 becoming, cannot possibly be thought of as a passivity in God, 
 that is, God cannot have become a cause by anything but 
 Himself. Eather is God He who determines the universe 
 from and by Himself ; or, as a cause, He is voluntary. 
 
 The voluntary is, at the same time, the intelligent cause, 
 for the true unity and balancing of antitheses, which is neither 
 their annihilation nor their intermingling, can only take place 
 in that intelligence, which is, at the same time, their voli- 
 tion. 
 
 But God being apprehended as both the intelligent and 
 voluntary cause, or as the living original unity of all being and 
 becoming, He is not hereby known in His purest immediate- 
 ness, but from that point only where all supposition and pre- 
 supposition begins and ceases. Higher than to this point, or 
 to the perception of that existence, which must not be presup- 
 posed, and which is the original cause of all things, thought 
 cannot rise. 
 
 The existent is to be conceived of as the true ; the cause 
 of existence, or that by which the existent is existent, — the 
 ultimate and highest ground of existence, is the good. The 
 idea of the good is the highest idea of cognizable existence. 
 
 God is not the idea of the good itself ; the idea of the good 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 159 
 
 only expresses most perfectly that which God is to all being 
 and becoming, the paternity and operation of God. 
 
 The becoming or being different, is, in reference to God, as 
 little a dead opposite to Him, as is being ; it is not, perhaps, a 
 somewhat which might exist with or without Him, and without 
 His knowing or willing it, so that He must put up with its 
 existence ; but ever as He wills the existent, He wills also the 
 being-different, in order that this different may be infinitely 
 comprehended, filled, penetrated, and glorified by the existent. 
 
 Here then, in God and the Divine Being, is the fulness of 
 the true and the good : hither must thought be directed ; hither 
 must man look and strive, if he will perceive the true and 
 participate in the good. 
 
 But the full and true turning of human life to the heavenly 
 source of all goodness and truth, is as difficult as rare. For 
 man is usually subject to another propensity, which seizes upon 
 him mightily and even threatens to remove him further and 
 further from the Divine Being. He must first be delivered 
 from the power of this propensity before he can again ap- 
 proach to God. 
 
 This propensity proceeds from the non-existent, with which 
 human life, as a becoming, is intimately connected. The non- 
 existent has necessarily a certain weight and force, which is 
 ever fleeing the Divine existence. For without this it could 
 not maintain itself in its relative existence ; the determined and 
 the determining must themselves cease, if the determinable 
 should cease to strive on into the purely undetermined. 
 
 The striving after the undetermined, which there is in all 
 becoming, or which belongs to the nature of the becoming, is 
 opposed to the existence and striving of the ideas, which ever 
 act in the same manner, and desire by their own determinateness 
 to render all becoming determinate. 
 
 Now, as by this means, in the great w T orld-life opposite 
 movements, even entire revolutions might arise, according as 
 the self -power of the world, or the divine power of the existent 
 
160 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 in it (in its soul), obtains the momentary preponderance, so 
 the life of man, who stands not above but within the opposi- 
 tions, is subject to a similar fate. 
 
 By the equalization or identification of the non-existent and 
 the existent, arises error or the false ; by the elevation of the 
 non-existent above the existent, or of the conditioned above the 
 conditioning, arises perversion or the bad. Error and sin 
 spring from the same potentiality, viz., from the universal 
 capacity of the non-existent to take part in the existent, and 
 consequently to appear as the existent. What renders error so 
 dangerous, viz., the appearance of truth ; that also renders the 
 bad so dangerous, viz., the appearance of goodness. 
 
 Deceived by the appearance, and striving after it, man 
 falls into an unhappy condition. The deceitful and ruling 
 power of appearance rests chiefly on the sensuously excitable 
 part of the life of the soul, which is indispensable to the soul's 
 earthly existence. As the soul- life, by virtue of the indwelling 
 power of the existent, can rise and form itself to a higher 
 existence, even to likeness to God ; so also the bodily life, by 
 virtue of its susceptibility, to the influences of the soul, is capable 
 of an elevation to likeness to the soul ; and, in every man, the 
 life connecting the existence of soul and body, takes a more or 
 less prevailing soul-like character. 
 
 The more prevailing this character becomes, the more power- 
 fully do all the movements which proceed from without inwards 
 affect the proper life of the soul, the more do they overweigh 
 and hinder the proper power of the soul, its power of moving 
 itself. And since the soul, ever moved and affected on the side 
 of the becoming, remains without impression and unaffected 
 from the side of the existent, but yet in consequence of its 
 inextinguishable existence, retains an unsuppressed desire after 
 that which is of its nature, it seeks to satisfy this desire by that 
 which is most at its command, viz., by the sensuous ; knowing 
 nothing but this, and yet feeling its need of knowing and 
 having the existent, it sets the phenomenal in the place of the 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 161 
 
 real and true, and expects, by ever-new apprehension and 
 induction thereof, to satisfy this constantly felt innermost 
 vacuity. 
 
 The bonds of this illusion would be more easily sundered, if 
 it were not so intimately connected with a heightened feeling 
 of life. For life is movement, — movement promoted, life is 
 pleasure and joy, hindered and suppressed, suffering and pain, 
 — in the life of the body as in that of the soul. Hence the 
 violent love of the sensuous soul to the sensuous world, and to 
 the attractive, exciting change of its forms and conditions^ 
 whereby the mobility of the conceptions and feelings is main- 
 tained in ever rapid circulation. 
 
 The more changeful, however, such a life becomes, the more 
 does it hasten to its destruction, the more does it fall under that 
 undeifying power which we have recognised as the wishing to 
 be free from all determinateness, which is necessarily attached 
 to the non-existent ; the longer such a life lasts, the more void 
 and ugly, the more rent and ruined will it both inwardly and 
 outwardly become. 
 
 For since the soul also, like every conception, has in itself, at 
 the same time, unity and multiplicity, so by the constant excite- 
 ment of the soul by the many and the various, its unity is 
 weakened, its power of multiplicity on the other hand is infinitely 
 strengthened ; and so the whole of its single power is sundered 
 and distracted a thousand-fold, the unity of its consciousness is 
 overpowered or choked by the mass of impression, and the whole 
 life of such a man is an unceasing vacillation, a being drawn 
 unresistingly hither and thither. 
 
 Unhappier still than in life is the condition after death of 
 the man who is given up to illusion and desire. For the exist- 
 ence of the soul cannot be destroyed; therefore it does not 
 cease in death, because nothing existent can ever be or become 
 a nothing. But the soul which is filled and laden with the 
 material merely, can, and must, after the extinction of that life 
 which was pre-eminently adapted to susceptibility for the higher, 
 
 11 
 
162 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 only sink still deeper into the non-existent, to which it has re- 
 signed and assimilated itself. 
 
 But if now the life of the soul is in this manner threatened, 
 whether living or dying, with a terrible surrounding by the 
 power of the non-existent, the existence and efficiency of a 
 power to save the soul, and to raise it to its true being, are mani- 
 festly the most urgent necessity of human life. 
 
 And how could such a power and efficiency be wanting to 
 life, since all earthly life is organized throughout for participa- 
 tion in heavenly existence, and to be moulded according to the 
 eternal ideas % 
 
 If not as the only one, yet as the most efficient power to 
 lead back the unbridled, irregular life to safety and order, and 
 to assist the perplexed and degraded soul to its natural elevation 
 and dignity, does Philosophy, the science of the truly ex- 
 istent, which had its origin in pure love of the truth, present 
 itself. 
 
 This, then, is the value and significance, this the task of 
 philosophy, to penetrate life with the power of the existent, 
 raising the soul-life from the contemplation of the vain and 
 perishable, to the apprehension of the permanent and eternal, 
 and rendering the soul, filled with the existent, a fountain stream- 
 ing forth the existent for the whole life. 
 
 Philosophy accordingly applies itself first to the existent in 
 man, and must always proceed first to effect a clear conscious- 
 ness of his own proper self, or of the existent in him. Only in 
 proportion as it succeeds in this, will it be possible for it to lead 
 man to a recognition and apprehension of the existent without 
 and above him. 
 
 When a man has recognised his personality, then likewise 
 is opened the eye of his soul, or the inner sense for the whole 
 rich world of the existent ; and science, far from teaching it, or 
 inspiring it with the conceptions of divine things, has nothing 
 further to do than to give the soul awakened to a true capacity 
 of reflection, the right direction and position, and to take out of 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 163 
 
 the way that which obscures and conceals the ideas, and deprives 
 the mind of the view of their luminous existence. 
 
 But the self-recognition of man is essentially and necessarily 
 connected with a self -separation also : man cannot comprehend 
 his identity, without, at the same time, perceiving the non- 
 identical or different from himself ; or the apprehending one's- 
 self is necessarily also a distinguishing one's-self. 
 
 Hence the first feelings which philosophy produces in man, 
 so soon as it begins to operate, can never be agreeable, or feel- 
 ings of delight ; they are rather feelings of pain, because the 
 first labour which philosophy undertakes is separation, viz., of 
 the existent from the non-existent. Excitement, unrest, dis- 
 union, confusion, consternation, fill the soul, when the falseness 
 of its entire stock of images and conceptions is more clearly dis- 
 closed than before ; the contradiction, often smoothed over, is 
 now developed more strongly than ever within him, extends 
 itself more powerfully than ever outwards in all directions, and 
 draws more irresistibly than ever all that is visible and conceiv- 
 able into its destructive contest ; the soul itself, seized by it, toils 
 long in vain, either to bind or to loose it. 
 
 Yet the power which can wake the slumbering contradiction 
 and rouse it to full life, understands also how to master and to 
 govern it with sure hand; as also, in the great whole of the 
 world life, the spiritual might of the divine existence leads all 
 that is disunited sooner or later to glorious union and rest. 
 
 But when, after long stagnation, the true movement of 
 thought has begun powerfully in the mind, it strides forward, 
 so soon as it has obtained some favouring guidance, indef atigably 
 until it reaches its aim ; when first the longing for questioning 
 has entered deeply and seriously into the inner life, it struggles 
 and toils through all obscure opinion, illusion, poetizing, and 
 dreams, to a clear perception of the truly existent, which gleams 
 out towards it more clearly at every progress on its arduous way. 
 
 It is evident, that only the purest and highest activity of the 
 mind can accomplish this. For, as we do not see with the eyes, 
 
164 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 but only through them, so we cannot grasp the existent which 
 gleams before us, by means of the feeling which it excites in the 
 soul, but only through it. The conceptions and feelings do not 
 express the truth ; they only address the mind within us, and 
 excite it to engage itself thoroughly and earnestly with them. 
 
 The highest mental activity excited in this way must con- 
 sist essentially in sundering and binding, in separating and 
 uniting, in determining and arranging ; for that which the con- 
 ceptions and feelings furnish to the thinking mind is a chaotic 
 mass, a variegated and indeterminate medley. From this mass 
 thought has to separate the real contents, and to unite them with 
 the mind, to comprise the many and indeterminate in unities 
 and determinates, and to connect them with each other, accord- 
 ing as the recognised nature of their relations to each other 
 demands. 
 
 The pure determining movement of thought through the 
 mass of conceptions, must be free from all arbitrariness, and 
 something entirely different from a chance guessing and 
 imagining, or a rushing to and clutching, as when one clutches 
 in a dove-cot at a venture to catch a pigeon : it must rather be 
 uniform, and proceed in strict sequence from first to second, 
 and so forth ; and when what follows contradicts what precedes, 
 it must ever return to the commencement, from which the con- 
 clusions have been developed, until the correct series of conclu- 
 sions is connected with the right starting-point. 
 
 The difficult art of thinking conformably to rule, is Dialectics. 
 It is the perfectly developed and cultivated interrogatory im- 
 pulse of the soul after the truly existent. That which it takes 
 from the mass of representations as the determinate, connected 
 and arranged, is conceptions. Conceptions stand, so to speak, 
 midway between sensuous forms and supersensuous ideas ; in 
 them do the former as well as the latter mirror themselves ; for 
 the inner world of feelings and representations is like the outer 
 world in obscurity or in twilight, in which the determinations 
 of things are blended. Dialectic thinking is like in-coming day- 
 
THE PKINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 165 
 
 light, which renders perceptible as well the forms of the intel- 
 lectual world, as also the boundaries and relations between light 
 and shade, between existence and non-existence. 
 
 As opinion has a preliminary stage in sensuous impression, 
 so also has dialectics in mathematics. Mathematics stands lower 
 than dialectics, because its conceptions are still not entirely pure, 
 but dependent on images or figures, and because it does not 
 proceed beyond the hypothesis to the unhypothetical ; it is, 
 however, indispensable to philosophical cultivation, and without 
 mathematics true dialectics is impossible. 
 
 True dialectics, which rests on a securely apprehended basis, 
 and from this leads out the inquiring soul to all truth, is the 
 most essential and most important part of philosophy ; yea, it is 
 properly the whole of philosophy itself. 
 
 The dialectic movement must necessarily have a twofold 
 direction, from the existent to the non-existent, or from non-ex- 
 istent to existent : the latter moves in hypothesis to the unhypo- 
 thetical ; the former moves in pure conceptions to the infinite. 
 
 Two errors lie extraordinarily near to dialectics ; it has 
 fallen into both. Since, namely, it has to apprehend the deter- 
 minate in the indeterminate, and, on the other hand, to proceed 
 from existent to non-existent, and since both antitheses seem to 
 touch each other, it is threatened with the danger of precipi- 
 tancy. With this precipitancy almost all dialecticians have 
 been chargeable ; they have for the most part passed over the 
 intermediate conceptions, which are everywhere so important, 
 and have advanced to the determinate, as the first, and then 
 immediately to the indeterminate, as the second, or by the re- 
 verse process. 
 
 True comprehension does not consist in this, that, after the 
 first grasping out and apprehension of the existent, we immedi- 
 ately let the rest go, and soar away into the infinite, but that 
 we continue our graspings so long as there is anything to be 
 apprehended which has any share in existence. 
 
 The other danger to dialectics springs from its constant in- 
 
166 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 tercourse with, antitheses and contradictions, and from its art 
 and power of loosing and binding these. If the charm which 
 lies in this exercises a powerful and determining influence on 
 the mind of the thinker, he will forget what is the proper object 
 and nature of dialectics, and will use it for nothing but to carry 
 on his empty and frivolous play with thoughts and conceptions. 
 
 For dialectics to correspond to its true definition, for it to 
 lead the soul gradually upwards from the region of the senses 
 to that eternal kingdom in which the truly good reigns en- 
 throned, it must never forget nor give up its ministering re- 
 lation to the true and the good. If it does so, and wishes to 
 subordinate thought to itself, instead of subordinating itself to- 
 gether with thought to the true and the good, it not only misses 
 its true aim, without ever attaining the true, but it operates all 
 the more prejudicially on the soul and life, as more effective 
 powers are at its command than at that of other things and 
 phenomena. 
 
 The appearance of wisdom with which sophistry dazzles, is 
 far more dangerous and ruinous to the soul than all the other 
 dangers which threaten it from ignorance, illusion, and the 
 passions. The dazzling of apparent wisdom does not, however, 
 operate through the satisfaction which it affords to the depths 
 of the soul, for the soul can never feel satisfied by mere show ; 
 but it operates by powerfully exciting only the sensuous cover- 
 ing of the soul, and here counterfeits that hearty admiration 
 and delight which is called forth in the soul by the view of the 
 truly good. 
 
 And thus it is seen that science, as to its inmost essence, is 
 rooted in pure love, and is exclusively conditioned by nobility 
 of disposition. Only unselfish love to the truly existent leads 
 and attains thereto, because the divine can be recognised and 
 comprehended only by that which is like it ; and ethics, which, 
 on the one hand, presents itself as a branch and offshoot of 
 dialectics, shows itself, on the other, as not less its ground and 
 germ. 
 
THE PKINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 167 
 
 Ethics has for its purpose a truly rational shaping and per- 
 fection of the whole human life, the internal as well as the 
 external. It is, moreover, not a special science, distinct from 
 dialectics, but only one side of dialectics, or much rather dia- 
 lectics itself, apprehended in its efficient relation to human 
 conduct and life. 
 
 The ethical condition of life and of all human relations de- 
 pends on the dominion which wisdom has attained and exercises. 
 For since all moral evil proceeds from the helpless dependence 
 on the sensuously moved into which the spiritually moving has 
 fallen, and since this dependence has its ground only in the 
 ignorance which, knowing nothing of the original moving 
 principle, and attracted merely towards the sensuous, regards 
 this as the causal principle of all existence and movement, so 
 the power of evil is broken, and the good is established in its 
 efficiency, whenever the clear perception of divine things enters 
 in the place of this error. True insight, which is not at the 
 same time virtue, is impossible, because insight takes place only 
 through the intimate connection into which human thought 
 has entered with eternal being ; as the causal principle of all 
 life, thought can ever only perceive the true and the good 
 in so far as it participates in them, and feels thereby its 
 own existence (seyendheit) promoted and more highly de- 
 veloped. 
 
 The idea of the Good is, accordingly, related to the intellec- 
 tual world and human perception, as the sun to the earth and 
 the eye. As the sun is the cause of life, and the condition of 
 seeing, so the Good is the cause of existence and perception. 
 As the eye would not be enabled to see by a beam of light, if it 
 were not already by its nature like the sun and light, so the 
 mind would not be able to think the idea of the Good, if its 
 essence did not consist in a nature like the Good. That which 
 dwells in the eye and the mind, as adaptation and potentiality, is 
 in real vision and perception raised to its fullest reality, and fills 
 therefore the form of its idea with most real contents ; vision is 
 
168 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 the real illumination of which the eye is capable, perception is 
 the real being-good of which the mind is capable. 
 
 Thus, then, is repeated in general, in the ethical sphere of 
 human thought and action, the whole life of visible nature, as, 
 by virtue of the thorough inter-adaptation of Being and Becom- 
 ing, cannot at all be otherwise ; and the whole of Ethics, viewed 
 from this side, makes itself known as a Physics, which is rightly 
 understood or carried through in a true scientific manner in the 
 life of the intellect. 
 
 From this, at the same time, appears distinctly the intimate 
 connection between physics and dialectics, since the scientific 
 carrying of physics into human relations can be no other than 
 a dialectical one. As ethics, with respect to dialectics, is at the 
 same time ground and consequence, so is this not less the case 
 with respect to physics and dialectics. Dialectics is the mother 
 of physics, in so far as dialectics goes through nature, in order 
 from everything in it becoming, to meet and apprehend the 
 corresponding existent which lies at its base ; dialectics is, how- 
 ever, also the daughter of physics, in so far as all dialectic move- 
 ment in the mind is only the reproduction of the great and 
 eternal world-dialectics, in which the different ever contradicts 
 the identical, and is ever more powerfully grasped and united by 
 the identical. 
 
 Hence, then, also the attentive and serious consideration of 
 nature is exceedingly adapted to excite and conduct the mind 
 to true thought and perception. For the soul feels, now more 
 now less, that with the sensuous phenomena spirits enter, which 
 urge their recognition on the mind, and liberation from the 
 non-existent as such. Especially does the slumbering thought 
 feel itself strongly incited to dialectic movement and activity 
 by all these phenomena, which make at the same time with 
 the impression of homogeneity, that also of heterogeneity and 
 antithesis. 
 
 These spirits are nothing but the eternal ideas, according to 
 and through which God has formed the world. For the world 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 169 
 
 is a science, and science is a world. As science is the system of 
 conceptions, and as the system arises only by the correct con- 
 nection and arrangement of different series of conceptions and 
 spheres, so the world viewed from God, is the faultless conjunc- 
 tion of all possible forces and operations of all that is visible and 
 conceivable. 
 
 The relations of ideas to phenomena, and of the moving 
 forces to the generated movements, must, from their nature, be 
 determinate, since their causes are determinate and determining. 
 The real determinateness of these relations consists in number 
 and measure. All endeavour to comprehend the phenomena 
 and movements, must accordingly be directed to the investiga- 
 tion of the number and form by which the indeterminate in 
 itself is comprised in this and no other determination. If the 
 determinate unity of the manifold is perceived, there must also 
 be sought out the relation of this unity to every one connected 
 with it, and to the highest. 
 
 The manner and power of comprising the many and various 
 in unity, and the more or less complete enstampment of the in- 
 determinate on the determinate, conditionate the impression of 
 the phenomenal on the soul. The purer and more correspondent 
 the movements are to the relations of numbers, which lie at their 
 base, the more powerfully and determinate!? is the form filled 
 by its contents, the more satisfying must be the operation of 
 sensuous things on the rational spirit of man, because he then 
 feels more distinctly his own powerful existence and efficiency, 
 which are throughout at the same time regulating and regulated. 
 
 The correspondent or correct relation between matter, form, 
 and spirit, or between moveable, moved and moving, is harmony. 
 Harmony, however, is beauty, and the purest representation of 
 the beautiful, in so far as it makes itself known to man from the 
 world life, is illusive. For music is, as it were, the harmony, 
 welling forth from nature, which, in ordered and clearly defined 
 sequence of tones, will make known to the human consciousness 
 that eternal symphony and rhythm which sounds with undi- 
 
170 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 minished power throughout the universe, and in which quiring 
 the constellations move. 
 
 Now, the harmony which lives in the works of the Creator, 
 presents itself also in the life of the soul and of men, — in the 
 former as pure morality, in the latter as the perfect State. For 
 virtue is harmony, or that beauty of action and life which arises 
 through the regulating and ail-rhythmically moving power of 
 the rational spirit ; and the State is the harmonious, powerful 
 constitution of the rational soul, brought out from the inner life 
 of the individual into the life of the nation. 
 
 But, if now the harmonious is essential in the conception of 
 the beautiful, and the beautiful is nothing but the realization of 
 the true and the good, from this proceeds not only the ethical 
 influence which music has and must have, as the purest of the 
 fine arts, but the intimate relation is also evident which exists 
 between philosophy and music, since both pursue the same ob- 
 ject, viz., the harmonious culture of man and his whole life. In 
 this respect, music must be conceived of as philosophy, and 
 philosophy as the highest music. 
 
 And so men in general perceive : the more nearly by true 
 philosophizing they approach the divine unity of being and 
 knowing, the more also do they perceive the inner striving of 
 all the Many towards the One, and the wondrous organization 
 in the life of the great whole, in consequence of which the one 
 is ever the type or copy of the other, and in which the power of 
 the eternal existence fills and moves every point of the infinite 
 non-existence, according to the measure of its receptivity ; by 
 which process the ultimate object of the universe — viz., the 
 closest possible resemblance to God of the individual and of the 
 whole — is attained in the most perfect possible manner.' 
 
 We have seen Platonism grow up out of a single germ, and 
 unfold itself in various directions, and will now organically con- 
 clude the organic process of this development, by drawing to- 
 gether again the whole of these manifold tendencies into a single 
 point, which, as the seed-corn of the plant, comprises within 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 171 
 
 itself the sum of the perfect image. The whole system of the 
 Platonic philosophy proceeds from two original parts, and the 
 point at which these two meet, exerting a spiritual or fertilizing 
 influence on each other, is the living germ from which the whole 
 system is developed. These two original parts are : Reason is 
 not a becoming, but an existent, 3 and that which penetrates 
 and explains the totality of things is analogy ; 4 the point, how- 
 ever, is the living consciousness of the one eternal spirit in the 
 universe of things. 
 
 It is at once perfectly clear how Plato by that first judg- 
 ment raises himself decidedly above all empiricism, since the 
 reason, empirically apprehended, appears throughout as a be- 
 coming, gradually awaking thing ; how, further, from the co- 
 existence of theses and antitheses in the first judgment is 
 produced the whole dialectic mode of cognition ; and how with 
 the existence of the reason is given or expressed not only the 
 possibility and reality of knowledge, 5 but also the connection of 
 wisdom and virtue, and the entire belief in immortality : for if 
 the reason is not becoming, but existent, its knowledge can 
 only be the knowledge of the existent ; and it needs not, in 
 order to obtain this knowledge, to go out of itself, needing 
 rather only to know its own being, if it would know the ex- 
 istent. But, if it knows its existence, it has herein also its 
 virtue and imperishability : for the knowledge of existence is 
 the human being filled by the divine, and the existent, as such, 
 is the permanent and unchanging. Thus, with some attention, 
 
 3 Cf. Eep. 10, 611, b, d. [ii. p. 302]. Legg. 5, 726. a. [v. p. 153]. 
 Phaed. 83. a, b. [i. p. 86]. 
 
 4 Cf. Tim. 56. c. 69. b. [ii. pp. 365, 379]. Plato's genius was chiefly 
 expressed in the perception of this analogy, and in its pursuit through the 
 whole of life and thought ; his acute critical understanding preserved him 
 in this from excess and extravagance. The fanciful hunting after analo- 
 gies of some natural philosophers, was a practice he never indulged in. 
 
 5 Plato forcibly presented the possibility and reality of knowledge, espe- 
 cially in opposition to the Sophists, who denied or questioned this, and 
 allowed nothing but vacillating opinion, and an appearance of truth. 
 
172 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 is sufficiently evident, especially from the second part, the 
 whole cosmology and theology of Plato : the history of nature 
 and the world is seen, according to the Platonic principle, to be 
 the magnified picture of that life, whose type we behold in 
 the life of men and of the soul ; and as the height mirrors 
 itself in the defpth, and the spirit in light, so from the pure 
 lineaments and movements 6 of the soul shines forth the spiritual 
 image of that divine existence, which is the fountain of all 
 things, and to which all things tend. Self-knowledge, self- 
 apprehension, and love, in the correct and ethical sense of the 
 word, follow accordingly from the germ-point mentioned and 
 what has just been intimated, as the most important and in- 
 structive problem for all philosophical striving ; and the yvcoOt, 
 creavrov of Socrates is consequently the true So? \xoi irov arco 7 
 from which Plato raises the chaotic mass of all conceptions and 
 impulses to a well-ordered and illuminated world of thought. 
 
 Now, whether this sketch be a true outline of the Platonic 
 philosophy as it is contained in Plato's writings, may, perhaps, 
 be less doubtful than whether, in general, any presentation of 
 his true philosophy can be given from Plato's writings. The 
 latter, those at least will hold to be impossible who think 
 themselves obliged to distinguish between the esoteric and the 
 exoteric philosophy of Plato. In what respect this, in itself, 
 inadmissible distinction may perhaps be justified, wdll best be 
 seen by a glance at the practical tendency of Platonism. 
 
 It cannot for a moment be denied that the whole Platonic 
 philosophy, as it lies before us in Plato's writings, has through- 
 out a view to, and applies itself to, real life. This is placed 
 beyond a doubt, even by the single circumstance, that Socrates 
 appears in all the dialogues, and in almost all as the chief 
 personage. It is Socrates who either occasions the conversa- 
 
 6 Tim. 90. d. [ii. p. 407]. 
 
 7 Hence the sentence, "Every sonl of man has, from its very nature, 
 beheld real existences," rightly understood, may be regarded as the funda- 
 mental dogma of the Plat, philosophy. Phaedr. 249. e. [i. p. 326]. 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 173 
 
 tions, and conducts the examinations, or forms the axis around 
 which the transactions revolve. In Socrates, however, gene- 
 rally, and in the Socrates of Plato especially, nothing is pre- 
 sented but philosophy become concrete ; he is the realized idea 
 of wisdom r in which knowledge and life have interpenetrated 
 each other, and become one. And thus, also, the - Platonic 
 philosophy serves as the friendly mediator, which has founded 
 and promoted the reciprocal relation between the school and 
 practical life. He is the organ and representative of the 
 former as well as of the latter. 
 
 Patricius describes this mediatorship of the Platonic Socrates 
 in a somewhat narrow and one-sided but yet original manner. 8 
 He regards him as a physician, who endeavoured to cure the 
 sickly life of his time by true philosophy, and indeed, so to 
 speak, in the homoeopathic method. The greatest danger, in 
 the opinion of Socrates, threatened the life of his country by 
 the growing corruption of youth, especially of those rich and 
 respectable young men who would attain to future power and 
 influence. The source of this corruption was threefold, founded 
 in the threefold spiritual activity of men, and in this also ever 
 finding the greatest susceptibility ; from the desire for pleasure 
 had sprung paederasty ; from irascible strength of mind had 
 been engendered intriguing and. ambitious politics ; and the 
 intellectual delight of dismembering and refuting was the 
 origin of fine-speaking and sophistry. Since now the lustful, 
 ambitious, and contentious forces of the soul exist in every 
 man, it is easily understood why the Paederasts, Politicians, 
 and Sophists met with such easy success in attracting young 
 men, and in exercising a powerful influence over them. This 
 influence Socrates desired to counteract vigorously, to remove 
 it even, and substitute his own wholesome influence in its place, 
 by apparently joining himself to these destructive tendencies, 
 in order to procure intercourse with the young men, and be 
 
 8 Patrio. Plat, exoter. Bl. 42. b. Cf. Rep. C. 492. a. pi. p. 178]. 
 Ale. 1,132. a. [iv. p. 364]. 
 
174 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 able to operate on them the more unostensibly. He en- 
 deavoured by his pretended paederasty to supplant the common 
 and shameful vice, and to kindle in its stead, in their youthful 
 souls, an enthusiastic love for all the beautiful and good : he 
 placed himself in the position of a gossiping Sophist, and 
 everywhere entered into conversations, in order apparently 
 without object to unmask and overthrow everywhere the hollow 
 sophistry : he sought to befriend himself with all brave and 
 aspiring youths, in order to give their ambition the right direc- 
 tion, and to convince them that the joy of self-government is 
 greater and more noble than the joy of dominion over others. 
 
 But however this may be, it is sufficient for us that it must 
 be firmly held as an essential trait of the Socratico-Platonic 
 philosophy, that it laboured to attain a political and practical 
 significance in the noblest sense of the word. Only to him 
 who has life in view, does the genesis of the Platonic philo- 
 sophy become livingly clear : he sees how Plato must bring his 
 noble interest in the true and good to the two main questions — 
 How is knowledge acquired and character formed % He sees, 
 with Plato's eyes, the unhappy stunting influence of blinding 
 errors on the former, of violent sensuous desires on the latter, 
 and perceives with grief the abomination of desolation, which 
 the arts, by flattering these errors and desires, are setting up 
 both in the interior and exterior life. He feels with Plato's 
 heart an ardent desire after health and salvation through the 
 spiritual might of a wisdom which conducts to God. 
 
 From this intimate application of the Platonic philosophy 
 to life is to be explained also, in great part at least, the peculiar 
 form in which Plato wrote his philosophical works, viz., that of 
 dialogue. All the writings of Plato, the Apology and Epistles 
 alone excepted, are, as is well known, in the form of dialogue ; 
 and in no author has this form, which was more popular in 
 ancient than in our own times, a so plainly expressed teleological 
 character as in Plato. It seems to offer itself as a hand to 
 conduct abstract thoughts into life, it mingles philosophical 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 175 
 
 interests with the interests of life, intertwines in an uncon- 
 strained manner philosophical transactions with the conversa- 
 tions of the day, acclimatizes the exotic growth of speculation 
 in the great commerce of men, in so far as it is practicable and 
 necessary. 
 
 The form of dialogue in Plato has certainly also another 
 deeper ground and philosophical meaning, and it is strange that 
 the great number of those who have written on Plato either ap- 
 pear not to have suspected this meaning and ground, notwith- 
 standing they so evidently proceed from the essence of Platonism, 
 or have expressed themselves much too ambiguously and super- 
 ficially concerning them. Most authors on Plato, even the most 
 recent, express themselves concerning the dialogal form of the 
 Platonic philosophy in such a manner, that we see they suppose 
 this form in Plato to be the result of choice and arbitrary deci- 
 sion, or of the author's special fondness for this species of style. 9 
 But this form is by no means a result of preference, but is 
 rather peculiarly a product of philosophical necessity ; it is so 
 conditioned by the spirit, and so organically connected with the 
 whole essence of Plato's philosophy, that this itself would be 
 something essentially different, if it were not presented in this 
 form. We need only recall the significance of dialectics in the 
 whole of the Platonic philosophy, to be immediately clear on 
 this point. If thinking, in Plato's view, is an inner conference, 
 then, of course, the writing down of this inner procedure can 
 be nothing but a conversation; 10 if dialectics, according to 
 Plato's conviction, is the base and summit of all philosophy, 
 then philosophy cannot appear in a more suitable form than 
 the dialogue ; if, according to Plato's idea, philosophy is a living 
 
 9 The statement that Plato was the first to introduce the style of dialogue 
 into philosophy was refuted already by Athenaeus. Zeno the Eleatic wrote 
 in dialogue before him, and after him the form came into general use, being 
 rendered popular by Aristotle, Theophrastus, and others. Cf. Fabric. Bibl. 
 Gr. 3. 69. 
 
 10 Theaet. 189. e. [i. p. 428-9]. 
 
176 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 power, which goes through life, combating the false and bad, 
 and helping the true and good to recognition and dominion, it 
 cannot successfully allow this power and that struggle to appear 
 in any other species of style than that which, in its constant 
 mobility, is an image of the living mind, and allows the freest 
 scope to all explanations and refutations. 
 
 But if now, as it has been shown, the philosophy of Plato, 
 as contained in his writings, is ever in its spirit and form most 
 strictly adapted to life, it is sufficiently evident from this in 
 what sense we may speak of his esoteric and exoteric philoso- 
 phy. Plato must certainly have spoken, handled his subjects, 
 developed his thoughts otherwise, when he had before him the 
 exclusive circle of his dearest pupils, who were already exer- 
 cised in philosophizing, than when, as in his writings, he spoke 
 to the great promiscuous multitude. For that in his writings 
 he presupposed, if not imphilosophical, yet far more not philoso- 
 phical than philosophical readers, is clearly enough perceptible 
 from the characterizations of the parties in the dialogue. They 
 are presented, with the exception of Socrates and a few others, 
 as the merest ABC scholars in thinking ; and he who does not 
 reflect, or does not comprehend, why Plato makes Socrates 
 converse diligently with unripe thinkers, yea, with even such 
 simple people, 11 might feel moved to censure severely this 
 circumstance in the Platonic dialogues. 
 
 But when now, in accordance with these remarks, the 
 popular philosophy of Plato is to be distinguished from his 
 proper school philosophy, this distinction has reference not so 
 much to its contents as to its form ; and those, in fact, are 
 not incorrect who protest against ascribing an esoteric wisdom 
 to Plato,' in the sense that he taught his confidential pupils 
 things entirely different from those contained in his writ- 
 
 11 Jesus also purposely selected for his disciples simple men, not yet 
 filled with the opinions of the schools. How little they were practised in 
 thinking, is clear from their questions and whole behaviour. Luke viii. 9, 
 ix. 45, xviii. 34 ; Matt. xv. 15, sq. ; John xii. 16, xyi. 18, etc. 
 
TI1E PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 177 
 
 ings. 12 In the essentials, Plato certainly taught nothing orally 
 which he has not at least sufficiently intimated in his writings. 
 This is vouched for by his whole style of thought, and the 
 just discussed aim of his philosophy; we have also sufficient 
 testimony for it in the writings of his pupil Aristotle. 
 
 But now, as regards the above sketch of Platonism, having 
 corrected as much as may be necessary the often wrongly used 
 conceptions of Plato's esoteric and exoteric philosophy, we must 
 add a few more remarks, which will serve partly for explana- 
 tion, and partly for confirmation. 
 
 Platonism is so organic 13 throughout, that it may be de- 
 veloped from every genuine germ of it : every single part 
 permits the whole to be inferred from its disposition ; every 
 point that is vitally understood raises all the rest more or less 
 into clear consciousness. On this account is Platonism capable 
 of such diverse apprehensions and representations ; wherever 
 one may first apprehend it, he can from anywhere in the cir- 
 cumference arrive by a continued progression at the centre. It 
 would be incorrect if either the one or the other of these modes 
 of presentation should be declared to be absolutely the only one 
 allowable, and all the rest to be inadmissible. 
 
 12 It is with the so-called esoteric philosophy of Plato somewhat as with 
 the celebrated word of our Lord, ' I have yet many things to say unto you,' ■ 
 etc., John xvi. 12. How many secrets has it from this been supposed that 
 Christ withheld ! And yet on a close scrutiny of the Scriptures it is plain 
 that He expressed all that was essentially necessary for the understanding 
 heart. 
 
 13 Cf. above, p. 123, p. q. This organic character is especially evident 
 from the relation which exists between Plato's Ethics, Physics, and Dialectics. 
 See above p. 168. This relation may be symbolized by the figure of a 
 triangle, which plays an important part in the Plat, philosophy. Tim. 53. 
 c. [ii. p. 361]. Plato did not, as often supposed, undervalue Physics. Tim. 
 29. b, c. [ii. p. 353]. Phil. 59. a. [iv. p. 94] ; but he considered it the 
 basis as well as the summit of philosophy, and there are intimations that he 
 considered dialectics in philosophy as only the reproduction of the dialectics 
 in the life of nature. Cf. Phaedr. 270. c. [i. p. 349]. Tim. 47. b, c. 90. d. 
 Rep. 7, 532. c. 534. e. etc. [ii. pp. 353, 407 ; 222, 224]. 
 
 12 
 
178 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 But should any one desire to work from any point inwards 
 to a true understanding of the Platonic philosophy, we must, 
 while calling his attention to its chief and fundamental con- 
 ceptions, give him, together with good counsel as to how he is 
 to master them, at the same time also a kindly warning that he 
 do not believe too soon that he has understood them. For 
 nothing has from the first brought greater confusion into the 
 whole concern, than the illusive belief that one has perfectly 
 apprehended the fundamental Platonic conceptions, when he has 
 succeeded by reflection in rendering their expressions intelligible 
 to himself. This supposed acquired understanding of single 
 Platonic conceptions is very often only apparent \ it depends, 
 for the most part, on the sense imperceptibly introduced by us 
 into the Platonic words. The separation of these conceptions 
 from the whole of the Platonic system, and the analytic con- 
 sideration of them in this manner, will seldom conduct to a true 
 understanding of them. This is, for the most part, arrived at 
 by a living perception of the position which they occupy in the 
 Platonic thought, and of the inner necessity by which they 
 have here shaped themselves forth. 
 
 That which besides renders difficult the correct understand- 
 ing of most of the fundamental Platonic conceptions, is the 
 repetition of them in modern philosophical language. We too 
 often think in connection with the former of that of which we 
 are accustomed to think in connection with the latter, however 
 much pains we take not to do so. This has happened with 
 special frequency in the case of three of the most important 
 conceptions of the Platonic system, — those of science, of the 
 good, and of ideas. The frequent apprehension of these in the 
 sense of our philosophical schools, must be noted as the prin- 
 cipal source of misunderstandings and misinterpretations of 
 Platonism. 
 
 It has often been with the Platonic conception of science, 
 as with the conception which Luther had of faith. The chief 
 point in both has not infrequently been overlooked, viz., that 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 179 
 
 which, however different, in other respects, they have in com- 
 mon with each other, — the idea of power. Of that which, as 
 most essentia], stood in the first rank before the minds, of these 
 men, when they spoke of science and faith, we think either not 
 at all, or else last of all. 14 And thus it is quite natural that we 
 cannot sufficiently wonder how it is that Plato's science and 
 Luther's faith are to be capable of such great things. For 
 Plato ascribes to science nothing less than the reformation of 
 human life, and Luther makes faith the alone ground of human 
 salvation. The latter statement can, of course, meet with 
 nothing but decided disapprobation among all those theologians 
 who know no other faith than the manufactured article, which 
 is the work of our arbitrary thinking ; and the former must 
 appear just as inexplicable and inadmissible to all those who, 
 in connection with the word science, think of nothing but that 
 which passes for such, and is so called in our life and schools. 
 We think first and chiefly under the word science of two dif- 
 ferent things, — a certain mass of knowledge, and a certain in- 
 tellectual activity forming this mass according to logical rules ; 
 whence also we speak entirely without hesitation of a multi- 
 plicity of sciences. Of such Plato knows nothing : for him 
 there are no sciences, when he speaks in earnest, 15 but only the 
 one science ; and this is neither an encyclopaedia of all things 
 worthy to be known, nor even the sum total of all possible 
 abstract ideas, but the full unencumbered presence of all that 
 which is alone true in the consciousness. And if we would not 
 misunderstand this, we must equally beware of the thought of 
 
 14 Prot. 352. b, c. [i. p. 283]. The assertion that power is the essential 
 point in Plato's conception of science, seems to contradict the division of all 
 science into theoretical and practical Pol, 258. e. [iii. p. 191]. Cf. Gorg. 
 450. b, c. [i. p. 140]. But it must not be overlooked that in these passages 
 Plato does not retain the strict conception of science, but, for the sake of 
 being easily understood, descends to the common mode of representation. 
 
 15 The plural certainly occurs not infrequently in Plato. Pol. 258. e. 
 etc. [iii. p. 191]. But even this passage affords a confirmation of the 
 opinion expressed. 
 
180 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 a mere mirroring of all the existent in our consciousness, as 
 of the view that this fulness of the existent is one produced 
 merely by and in the thinking human mind. Knowledge is 
 for him, as for us, a consequence of perception ; but his percep- 
 tion is widely different from that which is usually so called 
 among us. With us, the truth is perceived, therefore is and 
 remains passive ; with Plato, it gives itself to be perceived, there- 
 fore shows itself to be active : with us, the objects of perception 
 are, in general, like the wooden images at which archers shoot 
 for pleasure or exercise, — we shoot at them with thoughts and 
 conceptions, until the right conception has hit the right spot ; 
 with Plato, on the other hand, perception arises wholly by the 
 living reciprocal operation of the objects and the perceiving mind, 
 — the thinking mind labours on in their direction, until it has 
 come, so to speak, within their electric circle, and in it becomes 
 aware, through them, of their being and essence. 16 
 
 It is doubtless difficult for us to imagine this, or to believe in 
 the possibility of such a cognition, for the simple reason, that we 
 can only artificially form for ourselves a world-consciousness of 
 this kind, while to Plato it was natural. For where the unity 
 of intellectual life is so divided, and sundered into activities so 
 different and separate from each other, where the power of re- 
 flection is so completely severed from the maternal stock of ful- 
 ness of impression, and has attained such independent perfection 
 and decided superiority as among us, we can scarcely think of 
 cognition as other than a purely immanent logical act of the 
 understanding. However this may be, it is certain that he 
 who does not understand the Platonic, does not understand also 
 the Biblical cognition. For, when Jesus says: "And this is 
 life eternal, that they might know Thee, the only true God, 
 and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent " (John xvii. 3), he 
 evidently means by this, quite a different perception from the 
 
 16 Eep. 6. 490. b. [ii. p. 176]. The close connection between this idea 
 of knowledge and the biblical, as in Gen. iv. 17 ; 1 Sam. i. 19, etc., is at 
 once evident, though not always sufficiently regarded. 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 181 
 
 usual cognition of the thinking understanding ; for this has often 
 for its consequence not even a momentary vivification, not to 
 speak of eternal life ! 
 
 The Platonic conception of the good is even still more ex- 
 posed to misunderstanding than the idea of science. We con- 
 nect with the word "good/' in general, no other than an ethical 
 sense. If now we hear that Plato makes the idea of the good 
 absolutely the highest idea, we immediately rejoice, not merely 
 at the harmony between our way of thinking on morals and his, 
 but also at the clear light which seems to be spread from this 
 point over his otherwise obscure philosophy. For, should we 
 not hope to penetrate to the comprehension of his philosophy, by 
 means of this idea of the good, when we are so practised and at 
 home in the consideration of it ? 
 
 It is, however, a too hasty joy which the well-known sound 
 awakes in us ; and we should be glad if it were immediately 
 brought to an end, before it give birth to and develop the 
 errors with which it is pregnant. That which Plato understands 
 by the good, has almost nothing in common with that which 
 our moral systems call good ; and one would almost do better 
 to look for the root of the Platonic conception of the good in 
 physics than in ethics. (Cf. above, p. 134, n. 2.) 
 
 The good is with us a human conception ; with Plato, on the 
 other hand, as the above representation must have shown, a 
 purely divine conception : i.e., we, when we speak of the good, 
 have human life first in mind, and find or perceive the good in 
 the relations of men, or in their mode of action; but when 
 Plato speaks of the Good as of the Highest, he is not at all 
 thinking of something which occurs in life connected with 
 single phenomena thereof, but entirely of the all-powerful and 
 ever-active being of the Godhead. With us, consequently, the 
 good is weighed and measured; we have a measure for the 
 good, it is subject to our decision, and our discernment therefore 
 stands higher than it. Of that, on the other hand, which Plato 
 calls the good, the human mind has neither an adequate mea 
 
182 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 sure nor a comprehensive conception ; for, if there were a 
 suitable conception of it, it would cease to be the absolutely 
 highest and first. According to Plato, thought and judgment 
 can advance only to approximation to the good (see above, p. 
 46, nn. 43, 44), only to become participant in it, not to penetrate 
 and comprehend it. We think of the good as relative, as a kind 
 of being, among and with many other kinds of the same ; but 
 the good of Plato lies high and far above all relative thought 
 and being — so far, that we may say it has properly no antithesis. 
 The exact antithesis of the good is, according to our conception, 
 the bad ; but the good of Plato is of so peculiar nature, having 
 all existence in itself, that it is not possible for any other thing 
 to be in equal potency its opposite ; and if we still wished to 
 seek out and name a kind of contrary, we might designate that 
 which is called the good among us as this contrary, with as 
 much propriety as the bad. For, just because our good is the 
 exact contrary of the bad, it stands on the same basis and plane 
 with it, only in the opposite position". This basis or plane is, 
 however, no other than the great territory of single things and 
 varying phenomena. Since now the good of Plato is neither a 
 single thing, nor the quality of a thing, nor a phenomenon, and 
 belongs to an entirely different world from the world of good 
 and bad phenomena, it is quite clear that it is radically as 
 different from moral good as from moral evil. We must not 
 proceed from a moral sentiment, if we would come to an under- 
 standing of the Platonic idea of the good ; we must rather, for 
 the present, abstract our thoughts from all action, and reflect 
 merely on being ; we must subtilize with Hamlet : To be, or 
 not to be, that is the question. And when we perceive most 
 deeply within us the answer Being is, and there is nothing but 
 Being, then we are approaching the apprehension of the word 
 " good " in the Platonic sense. For the good of Plato is, to in- 
 dicate it by a sensuous mode of expression, the incorruptible, 17 
 
 17 Plato renders prominent, as we saw (p. 152), the fleeting and change- 
 able nature of things, in order to excite the sonl to more earnest longing 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 183 
 
 which endures through, all change, by whose existence all else 
 that is existent is so. 
 
 No conception of Plato, however, has been more frequently 
 and variously misunderstood, than the equally difficult and im- 
 portant conception of ideas. With what we at the present day call 
 ideas, the ideas of Plato have nothing in common but the name. 
 This is sufficiently evident from the fact, that Plato speaks not 
 only of ideas of the true and good, but also of ideas of a table, 
 loom, hair, dirt, etc. 18 But however often and expressly the 
 readers of Plato have been warned not to think of the ideas of 
 whose existence he speaks, as something purely ideal, and not to 
 consider them a species of thoughts, yet this is still but too fre- 
 quently the case. Others, who take this warning to heart, and 
 have kept themselves far from conceiving of the Platonic ideas 
 as products of thought, have yet fallen into the opposite error, 
 and have regarded and given out the Platonic ideas to be some- 
 thing substantial, supporting themselves in this on some passages 
 in Plato, which certainly do seem to favour the view, that the 
 ideas are somewhere independently existing (material) entities. 19 
 
 Does the kind reader now expect that a short and clear de- 
 finition will at once render intelligible to him the obscure nature 
 of the Platonic ideas? That would, in fact, be a somewhat 
 strange expectation, testifying of no particular amount of re- 
 after the eternal and changeless. The changeless, existent, in so far as it 
 is perceived as really existing in the world, is the Beautiful ; in its pure spi- 
 ritual sense, it is the True ; but in that it not merely itself is, but causes all 
 existence, it is the Good. The close connection of these ideas is at once evi- 
 dent, as also the reason why Plato is so ready to contract these expressions 
 into one. 
 
 18 Rep. 10, 595. b. [ii. p. 284]. Parm. 130. c. [iii. p. 408]. The dif- 
 ficulties connected with the doctrine of Ideas are explained by Plato him- 
 self. Parm. 130. b. to 135. d. 
 
 19 Phaed. 102. a. [i p. 108, etc:]. Crat. 389. a. sq. [iii. p. 293]. It 
 has been often overlooked that Plato himself attacked the one-sided idealists 
 (probably the Megarics), and that very doctrine of ideas which has been 
 attributed to him. Parm. 133. a. Soph. 246. b. 248. a. [iii. pp. 413 ; 
 149, 152]. 
 
184 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 flection. There would surely be scarcely a more convenient 
 study than philosophy, if one could drop the quintessence of it 
 into the spoon of a definition, and administer this to the student ! 
 And if so, in the present case one could say in brief : " Behold ! 
 the ideas of Plato are so and so !" — and they would be at once 
 perfectly understood. That there are people enough who be- 
 lieve in such immediate impartations of an understanding in 
 philosophical matters, and are accordingly zealous to serve each 
 other reciprocally with such extracts, and imagine themselves to 
 have gained a wonderful insight, when they have impressed a 
 definition on their understanding and memory, I am well aware ; 
 but I am not less so, that no one need direct himself to such 
 persons, if he wishes to learn how to understand or expound 
 Plato. 20 A definition of a philosophical conception is of some 
 assistance to him only, who, by persevering investigation, has 
 arrived at that point that he can at all events make one for him- 
 self. As before, in the case of the Platonic conceptions of science 
 and the good, I could give, and desired to give, no explanations 
 adequately expressing their nature, but only indications for an 
 independent discovery of the true way of understanding them, 
 so, in respect of the Platonic ideas, I can do no otherwise. 
 
 He who would understand the Platonic doctrine of ideas, 
 must seek before all things to transport himself again to that 
 already indicated fulness and naivete of thought, which can only 
 find place, and has only found place, in the youthhood of philo- 
 sophy. Wrong as it would be incessantly to bewail its disap- 
 pearance, since it must necessarily have disappeared, in conse- 
 quence of the increasing development of the understanding, it 
 would be equally wrong if we should imagine ourselves to have 
 come much nearer the cognition of the true, on. account of this 
 
 20 Plato gives no bare definitions. The dialectic movement of thought 
 either precedes, begetting the definition, or follows, explaining it. That 
 the Plat, conception of Ideas is not to be understood from short definitions, 
 will be plain to every one who will consult any of those which have been 
 proposed in ancient or modern times. 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 185 
 
 advanced development alone. We can certainly, by virtue of 
 this progress, think what we do think at the present day, much 
 more pure and unmixed than Plato could ; but what our think- 
 ing has gained thereby in an extensive and distinctive respect, 
 on the one hand, it has lost, on the other, in an intensive respect. 
 The milky way has not truly gained in brilliancy, through being 
 resolved by our telescopes into innumerable starry points. He 
 who thinks he must smile compassionately at the sublime sim- 
 plicity of the half-poetic philosopheme of the more remote anti- 
 quity, and hold it to be a baseless hypothesis, for the reason 
 merely, that, as is quite natural, he is unable to discover that 
 which forms its base in his own way of thinking ; — he who does 
 not unite with the consciousness of his understanding's having 
 become sharper and richer in conceptions, the humble recogni- 
 tion also of his having become poor in profound substantial 
 feeling, may never hope to be able to learn or advance any- 
 thing sound and correct concerning the Platonic doctrine of 
 ideas. We cannot, of course, escape the influence which our 
 times and philosophy exert upon us. Hence we cannot, e.g., 
 prevent from ever again obtruding itself upon us, that view as 
 to the relation of being to thinking which has now become the 
 prevalent one. Poor being ! in fact, it only seems to us to be 
 something. Handled strictly, however, it is nothing, and think- 
 ing is everything, and has everything ; and dried-up being de- 
 rives a scanty nourishment from the crumbs which fall from the 
 richly furnished table of thinking. In truth, it may not even 
 venture to exist at all, without express permission on the part of 
 thinking ! 
 
 In the Platonic way of thinking the case is almost the re- 
 verse. There, not thought, but being, was the conditioning 
 principle. Being did not then possess an existence produced 
 and adjudged to it by thought, but an existence obtruding itself 
 and making itself felt in thought : the ideas were not depen- 
 dent on thinking, 21 but thinking was dependent on the ideas ; 
 
 21 Crat. 386. d. [iii. p. 288], 
 
186 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 because, in Plato's belief, without the previous existence of the 
 ideas without and above the self-developing thought of the in- 
 dividual, there would be no true thinking and perception at all. 
 What we call ideas is an operation, an operation of the mind 
 engendering various thoughts and impressions ; that which Plato 
 designates by this word is a cause, — viz., the cause and condition 
 of scientific thinking and perception. The question as to which 
 way of thinking is the more correct, may be set entirely on one 
 side. Enough if we only learn gradually to comprehend what 
 sense the word idea has in Plato ! 22 
 
 The safest way to a living apprehension of the Platonic 
 Idea proceeds from the true apprehension of impersonality in 
 consciousness , and this in its relation to the Godhead. He who 
 grasps himself in thought, and apprehends and finds himself in 
 himself and yet also at the same time in another, viz., in God, 
 to him it will no longer be obscure and unintelligible what Plato 
 meant by his ideas. But, certainly, for this distinguishing of 
 his Ego from God, as also in order to find and feel it in Him, 
 nothing less is required than that consciousness of God which 
 the Scriptures call a living God. And with this our mind 
 does not willingly meddle, because it is much more convenient 
 to deal with the abstract conception of Him, than with Himself 
 When we speak of God, our mental eye looks in general not on 
 Himself, but on that shadowy outline which we have made of 
 Him for ourselves ; and when it is seen how this appears, we 
 suppose ourselves to have arrived at the knowledge of that which 
 is signified by the word God ; indeed, we are so much accus- 
 tomed to think of God, instead of thinking God, that we either 
 do not at all understand what sort of a distinction this is, or we 
 wholly deny the possibility of thinking God. Now, in such a 
 manner of thinking, God does not exist as a living God, but 
 only as a dead thought. It will, moreover, occur to the attentive 
 
 22 See, on the relation of conceptions to ideas, Phaedr. 249. b. Theaet. 
 186. a. [i. pp. 325, 423]. Rep. 7, 524. b. [ii. p. 213]. Polit. 285. a. [iii. 
 p. 234]. Phil. 14. c. [iv. p. 11]. 
 
THE PRINCIPLES OF THE PLATONIC PHILOSOPHY. 187 
 
 reader without elaborate demonstration, that the Platonic doc- 
 trine of Ideas and the Christian doctrine of Freedom are next 
 neighbours and friends. But how the Platonic doctrine of ideas 
 has glimmered forth in the history of philosophy like a fire 
 under ashes, and has broken out from time to time in new form 
 and colouring, and how, especially, it has ever been found either 
 wholly or in part in the train of Christian views of the world 
 and Christian tendencies of thought, — this is a phenomenon 
 which demands, as it deserves, a particular study. 
 
188 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 
 
 Our regard must now, in the next place, be directed to Christi- 
 anity, and that which forms its essence and peculiarity. For we 
 cannot definitely perceive and designate the Christian element 
 in Plato, until we have perceived what Christianity in general 
 properly is. 
 
 Let us, in the first place ? consider the phrase — Christian ele- 
 ment. The word ( element' is borrowed from chemical science, 
 and means the rudiment or first principle of a thing. The whole 
 phrase expresses that proper element or principle of Christianity, 
 or that essential thing, whereby it is what it is, and is dis- 
 tinguished from all similar surrounding forms. 
 
 Wherein, then, we now ask, consists the Christian element 
 as such 1 i.e., that which is peculiar and essential to Christianity ? 
 
 We must turn to real life, if we would obtain the most correct 
 and instructive answer to this question. For life and Christi- 
 anity are things appertaining to each other, and bound together 
 by God ; and what God has joined together, let not man put 
 asunder. They are not merely for each other, but in each other, 
 and neither can be truly understood without the other. What 
 life is, can be clearly perceived only from Christianity ; and what 
 Christianity is, is evident to him only who has life, and the re- 
 lation of Christianity to life, in view. How many errors and 
 misunderstandings would theology have spared itself and the 
 world, if it had never ignored nor forgotten the sacred union 
 between Christianity and life ! The Bible, since it contains the 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 189 
 
 history of life in the deepest and most comprehensive sense of 
 the word, can nowhere be so thoroughly understood as in and by 
 life ; books and studies afford almost always only an anatomical 
 understanding of the dissected word-corpse. 
 
 Let us then direct our gaze to life and to Christianity ; let 
 us apprehend the natural state of the former and the penetrat- 
 ing influence of the latter, in order that we may judge there- 
 from what is the Christian element. For when life receives 
 the influence of Christianity with heartfelt desire, it is Christian ; 
 when it is indifferent to it, it is not Christian ; when it repels 
 it, it is unchristian. The nature of the Christian element is' 
 accordingly most easily apprehended at the point of friendly 
 relation between life and Christianity ; it here presents itself in 
 that which life feels as its deepest need, and which Christianity 
 affords as the highest satisfaction of this need. 
 
 What does life desire ? What does it seek and strive after 
 most earnestly 1 What does it most need % For what calls its 
 deepest longing ? 
 
 All life desires to be life, i.e., it will not have merely 
 abstract existence, but wishes to be that which it feels itself to 
 be, namely, life. This is the powerful fundamental impulse of 
 all life, which makes its power known in a two-fold direction 
 and activity, viz., attracting and repelling. The power of life 
 attracts to itself all that whereby it feels itself strengthened, 
 elevated, and promoted, and repels all that is restrictive and 
 injurious to it. Life strives after complete development and 
 unrestricted movement of itself; it desires to express wholly 
 that which is within it, or to fill up entirely its ideal periphery 
 from its centre. Torpidity, and stunted or wholly suppressed 
 development, do not allow life to be life, and are painfully felt 
 by it as evil. Here it is already shown that, as the founda- 
 tion of all life-activity is to be apprehended as power, Chris- 
 tianity in its essence must equally be power, or it could not be, 
 as it professes to be, something related and suited to life. 
 
 Everywhere, where life has its will, and moves unrestrictedly 
 
190 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 in the sphere which it fills, it presents itself with the expression 
 of agreeable feeling, and produces the impression of beauty. 
 This is manifestly the case in the great whole of the life of 
 nature. In nature is imperishable fulness and freshness of 
 life. That which is stunted in it, appears not only as some- 
 thing singular, but also — and this is the main thing — in gene- 
 ral only as something peripheric, which does not spring from 
 a want of power in the heart of life, but from unfavourable 
 conflicts and influences at its circumference ; the life of nature 
 is sound at core, and consequently inwardly guiltless of its 
 sometimes exterior uncomeliness, as is sufficiently evident from 
 the fact, that nature, even under the most unfavourable cir- 
 cumstances, can always produce and shape forth such a life as 
 is possible under the given circumstances. 
 
 We must therefore call nature complete ; she has all that 
 which she must have 1 to be life-giving nature, and there is no 
 reason for apprehension that she can ever lose this : nothing 
 is wanting to her for which she must wait as for something 
 coming from elsewhere, before she can succeed in shaping 
 forth the whole glory of her life. So far as we have become 
 acquainted with her, she appears rather as the realized idea of 
 herself : she makes the strong and beneficial impression upon 
 us, that all life possible to her has really become life ; not the 
 smallest material for the purposes of life has remained or re- 
 mains unapplied. And as in space she makes her appearance 
 as the all-animating, so in time she appears as the ever self- 
 rejuvenating : in her whole action and essence she expresses 
 the feeling of indestructibility of her life; her whole course 
 has ever a resolute character, as if she knew that she had inex- 
 haustible means and forces at command. What a wealth of 
 restorative power does she manifest and bring into action, not 
 merely in the great whole, but also in individual cases ! What 
 
 1 This is, of course, only relatively, not absolutely true. Nature also 
 needs for its true glory a certain participation in the Redemption. Horn. 
 viii. 19. 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 191 
 
 a variety of means of defence and offence does she set imme- 
 diately in motion against all which threatens her ! A healing 
 activity from within toils immediately against all that wounds ; 
 the muscle fills out its injured dwelling with pearls, the moun- 
 tains fill their fractures and clefts with veins of ore. 
 
 Hence, also, joy is the key-note of the concert of nature, 
 because nature's life-impulse receives its full satisfaction. The 
 creation exults hi the power of its preserver. 
 
 And with human life, as it seems, the case is no otherwise ; 
 exultant feeling of power wells out from its breast, and its 
 countenance beams with irrepressible serenity and freshness. 
 The cheerful, animated picture of human life, with the infinite 
 riches of its gifts, enjoyments, deeds, powers, tendencies, and 
 forms — can it make other than a pleasing impression on the 
 unprejudiced beholder? Does it bear in itself any other 
 stamp than that of beauty and agreeable feeling, which is 
 impressed on every perfect development, and therefore also 
 testifies of such ? And could the creative will have so formed 
 life as to have forgotten the powers and capacities indispensable 
 to its full development, which must then have been added 
 afterwards, like the postscript to a letter ? That is impossible. 
 However, then, the relation of Christianity to life may be 
 thought of, it certainly cannot be as that of a supplement to 
 the creation ; whatever Christianity may be to life, it cannot 
 serve to supply an original deficiency thereof. 
 
 Apparently, rather, human life, like the life of nature, is so 
 organized that all the capacities which exist in it desire to and 
 can come to bloom ; and it both has the favouring conditions 
 in itself which awake and call forth the slumbering germs, 
 and it has also the protective forces and means at its com- 
 mand, which are constantly engaged in guarding its variously 
 threatened welfare. From what side could distress come upon 
 life, to which it would not be able to send means to ward off 
 and overcome, or to soften and alleviate it ? On what stage of 
 its unfolding could it not shape forth and procure for itself all 
 
192 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 that which it must obtain, in order to show the perfection and 
 satisfaction which are necessary at this stage 1 All its bodily 
 and spiritual needs are like so many bills of exchange drawn 
 by itself, which it never fails to honour, when they are pre- 
 sented at the right time and in the proper place. For the 
 body are ever growing its covering and nourishment ; wounds 
 and sicknesses derive their healing balsam from afar ; the senses 
 meet everywhere that which serves for their exercise and delec- 
 tation ; for the fancy is everywhere a stimulating abundance of 
 images ; for the artistic impulse is everywhere afforded mate- 
 rial for its use, and for the social instinct are commerce and 
 society ; over every dark sorrow hope arches its bright bow of 
 peace ; the heart finds everywhere its love, the mind its world 
 of thoughts. 
 
 Like a richly dowried bride, adorned with unfading fresh- 
 ness of charms, does human life, apprehended as a great whole, 
 present itself from its amiable side ; and there is no dogma so 
 evident and so generally popular, as that of the all-sufficiency 
 of life for its complete dignity and happiness. It is the dogma 
 of the world and her merry children. 
 
 Life certainly does, when regarded from the stand-point of 
 its joyous feeling, appear exceeding excellent ; and that which 
 is elsewhere designated as highest and most difficult, the serene 
 rest of the soul, which flows from the sacred heights of the 
 Atonement, seems here close at hand, and attainable with but 
 slight toil. It is attained when, in comparison with the great 
 whole, we do not rate high the little knavery and misery in the 
 world. And we shall do this the less, the more we feel our- 
 selves moved, by intelligent consideration of the matter, to 
 regard and tolerate misery as the necessary shading of the 
 picture, but vileness as the inevitable outgrowth of the weak sens- 
 uous nature of man. We need therefore, only to disaccustom 
 ourselves from complaining and bewailing, in order to feel our- 
 selves immediately reconciled to the world and its adversities ; 
 for by the first we render ourselves intolerable to the world, 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 193 
 
 and by the second we render its adversities intolerable to 
 ourselves. 
 
 But the Scripture says : ( Woe unto them who say, Peace, 
 peace, when there is no peace ' (Jer. vi. 14 ; 1 Thess. v. 3). 
 Life discloses to attentive consideration an entirely different side 1 
 from that of serene amiability. 
 
 When Bluebeard went to his wedding, he presented himself 
 in the bewitching splendour of his knightly dignity, and the 
 beauty whom he took home with him regarded her life at his 
 lordly castle as the happiest on earth. But when, following the 
 irresistible impulse of her heart, she entered the secret fateful 
 closet, and saw the dismembered corpses on the wall mirrored 
 in the bloody floor, and i^U herself overpowered by the terrible 
 certainty that she would soon meet with the same fate, then 
 she sank down with terror, and the traitorous key slipt from 
 her trembling hands. 
 
 A similar horror would indeed fall on many a one, if, in the 
 midst of his joyous feeling of life, he w^ere suddenly transported 
 to its torture-chamber or charnel-house, which certainly does 
 not always stand open before us, but is usually concealed and 
 closed ; and on this account its existence is never suspected nor 
 discovered by so many, who, like the little birds in the air, twitter 
 away their serene sensuous life in undisturbed composure. 
 
 Human life, on closer observation, manifests in not a few 
 places a loathsomeness which excites a shudder. And this loath- 
 someness is by no means a fleeting distortion of its features by 
 an unfortunate accident, but rather the state of its heart, which 
 is ever breaking through all exterior varnish. Nature, instead 
 of enhancing in human life, which stands on a higher stage, 
 the grace and beauty which it displays on the stage of vege- 
 table life, falls back, when it is left in its development purely to 
 itself, into a depth which revolts all feeling of beauty, and shows 
 itself entirely undisguised and unrefined. Human life has un- 
 questionably the capacity and impulse to unfold and form not 
 merely the animal, but also the higher, purely human character. 
 
 13 
 
194 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 That, however, which human nature continually develops from 
 itself first and most strongly without higher influence, is plainly 
 not the human, but the animal ; and since now, by a law of 
 nature, a one-sided development is never without a destructive 
 and deteriorating influence on the whole, as well as on the de- 
 veloped side itself, so the animal part of human life, which is to 
 exist here together with a higher part, and to minister to it, does 
 not sustain itself in its pure natural character, but, so long as it 
 lacks the better half belonging to it, sinks below the animal form 
 of development, and becomes bestial. Nothing is easier and 
 more agreeable to the unawakened, uncultivated human life, 
 than to be bestial, and to enjoy itself bestially. 
 
 Living proofs of the above are afforded by the primeval 
 forests of Brazil, and the islands of the South Sea, in painfully 
 oppressive verity. 2 What a contrast between the radiant tree- 
 blooms of those forests and the grinning countenances and the 
 figures of the Botokuds, set in tension only by greediness ! And 
 still more repulsive than in these, does purely uncultivated 
 human nature present itself in many other savage nations. 
 We need only allude to the New Hollanders passing their lives 
 in stench and stupor, and compare the filthy holes they inhabit, 
 with the nests, neatly tapestried with leaves, of those East Indian 
 birds which are accustomed to bring in a glow-worm as their 
 chandelier for the night. In the bodies of the New Zealanders 
 and North American savages, the human form indeed affords 
 an entirely different and even not rarely a highly satisfactory 
 aspect ; in the case of the former, as in that of the latter, they 
 show finely formed bodies, animated by strength and graceful 
 dexterity ; but with the cultivation of this corporeal beauty, the 
 revolting loathsomeness of their animal barbarousness has by 
 no means disappeared, but appears, on the contrary, only the 
 more glaring and wounding to the feelings. There we see the 
 
 2 See the Journey to Brazil of Prince Maximilian von Neuwied. Frank- 
 furt, a. M. 1820-21. On the New Zealanders, D'Urville's Voyage round 
 the World. 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 195 
 
 tall hero-forms skulk about by night, to quench their raging 
 appetite for human flesh by the first best human wild animal 
 who comes within the range of their shot ; here the whole tribe 
 is collected to a delectable feast of blood, at which the war-cap- 
 tive bound to the stake is slowly tortured to death, and every 
 one of his cries of pain is accompanied by a hellish yell of exulta- 
 tion. 3 We can well spare ourselves the sad inquiry from land 
 to land after such bestial phenomena of lif e ; we need not describe 
 either the murder-madness with which the Malays are not rarely 
 seized, nor the human slaughter which is never wanting at any 
 feast of the Ashantees, nor the customs of the aborigines of 
 Java, 4 who cut their decrepit parents to pieces, and feast on 
 them in the forest, and devour their criminals alive, limb by 
 limb, in full assembly, — in order to render more evident the pre- 
 valence of a horrifying trait in life ; we will not, for the better 
 attainment of this object, roam through the old German forests, 5 
 and see the fearful origin of the old adage, i Duck under, the 
 world bears thee a grudge.' We will not penetrate into the 
 torture-chambers and castle-dungeons of the middle ages, nor 
 tarry at the impalings and flayings of punitive justice in those 
 times; 6 we will leave unread the innumerable accounts of the 
 innumerable barbarities of Eastern despots, and turn away our 
 eyes from the horrid pleasure with which they, by their own 
 hands, decapitate and tear out the eyes of their victims, as, e.g., 
 the notorious Djezzar Pasha was accustomed to do at breakfast. 
 The universal presence of a thoroughly bad side of human life 
 is an indubitable fact, established long ago by history and 
 experience, which we need not corroborate by accumulated ex- 
 amples. The life of nations which are intellectually superior, 
 
 3 See Ross Cox. The Columbia River. London, 1831. 
 
 4 See Anderson, Mission to the East Coast of Sumatra. Edinburgh, 
 1826. 
 
 5 On the cruelties of the ancient Saxons, See Mone, Geschichte des 
 Heidenth. etc., 2. p. 58. 
 
 6 E.g., the horrible execution of Grumbach and Briick in 1567. Menzel, 
 neuere Gesch. d. Deutsch. 4. p. 353, sq. 
 
196 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 is not free from this vileness : they only know better how to 
 conceal it ; and it is just this life which affords the clearest and 
 strongest evidence of its universal presence, and of its firm and 
 deep intergrowth with the whole history of human development, 
 since it cannot be denied that it has not only not disappeared 
 with the increasing intelligence and refinement, but, on the con- 
 trary, is only too frequently more abominable and revolting 
 than before. He who would convince himself of this, need only 
 take up the Biographies of Eoman Emperors and Empresses, 7 
 or the French memoirs of the last centuries, 8 or bestow some 
 attention on the descriptions of life in the principal cities of 
 Europe and America. He who would convince himself that 
 the intellectually enlightened Europeans know how to surpass 
 the North American savages in refined barbarity, may peruse 
 the history of the cruelties which the rich planters of the East 
 and West Indies allowed, even in the last century, to be inflicted 
 on their slaves and on the natives, or place before him the acts, 
 not long since made known, of the Spaniards in South America 
 during three hundred years ; he who would become acquainted 
 with bestiality at its acme among a people who boast not unjustly 
 of the highest intelligence and the most refined manner of living, 
 may reproduce for himself the bloody scenes of the French re- 
 volution : not those slaughtering bands of the September days, 
 and the rabble-rout which bit and tore in pieces the heart of the 
 Princess Lamballe, give the true idea of it, but those respectable 
 gentlemen and ladies who found their highest pleasure in the 
 most abominable sensualities and deeds of murder, and, together 
 with this, sought always to display their mental cultivation in 
 the most splendid manner in public and social life ; and to him 
 who would persuade himself or another, that the dreadful height 
 to which barbarousness then rose in France had its ground 
 merely in passions heated to the utmost degree, father-confessors, 
 physicians, and judges may clearly demonstrate that revolting 
 
 7 Suet. Tib. 43. Cal. 32. Ner. 33. Dom. 10. etc. 
 
 8 E.g., the Memoirs of Tilly and St Simon. 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 197 
 
 inhumanity is only too frequently compatible with the most cul- 
 tivated understanding and the most uniform tranquillity of mind 
 — not merely in the rude souls of men, but also in the tender 
 hearts of women, as we see in the court-ladies of Louis XV., 
 present in their richest ornaments at the tearing to pieces of the 
 unfortunate Damiens, and pitying only the noble horses, be- 
 cause they could not accomplish their horrible business without 
 the greatest exertions, — as not less in the case of that Hungarian 
 lady of high rank, who, for the preservation of her beautiful 
 skin, washed herself in the blood of young maidens murdered 
 by her own hand, 9 etc., etc. No tongue, no pen, is in a condition 
 to count up and fully adduce the traits of the horrible cannibalism 
 in human life ; and it is, as already mentioned, a fortunate cir- 
 cumstance that so very few of them are witnessed, and by so 
 very few persons, and that, as it happens, either a levity, which 
 quickly forgets what is terrible, or a certain apathy, which en- 
 velopes the soul as in a case, weakens the force of the horrible 
 impression, which would crush a tender sensibility if it came 
 upon it in its full strength. 
 
 Well-disposed friends of humanity, and passionate admirers 
 of faith in the perfection of life, will now, perhaps, think that 
 nothing is easier than to invalidate the force of these intima- 
 tions, and to save the threatened honour and reputation of 
 life. That, for this purpose, all that is necessary is to oppose to 
 these detestable traits as many, or still more, beautiful and 
 noble traits ; and to bring together, in a short time, a long 
 gallery of such from all lands and nations, is not attended with 
 the smallest difficulty. 
 
 Such a beginning would testify, at all events, to the good- 
 ness of their hearts, though not to that of their understandings. 
 For, by a rejoinder of this sort, they would prove nothing at 
 all, except that they have not understood what we have really 
 been speaking of, and what is the main point at issue. The 
 
 9 Schubert, History of the Human Soul, 2. p. 507. Cf. Wagner, 
 Beitrage z. philos. Anthrop. 2. p. 268. 
 
198 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 existence of a beautiful attractive side of human life has been 
 so little denied, that it has rather been designated as its main 
 facade, which, for the most part, comes first into view. But 
 whether life has only this one and no other side, whether it is 
 throughout so excellent as it appears when seen from a certain 
 elevation, and whether its development is of itself in every 
 respect so perfectly satisfactory as to leave nothing further to 
 be desired — this is the main point at issue ; and who would 
 venture, in the face of facts like the above, to affirm boldly all 
 this % What, then, will the well-disposed and merry people do 
 with their collection of examples of noble deeds and senti- 
 ments % Do they wish to prove thereby, that not merely evil, 
 but also good, exists and takes place in abundance on the earth ? 
 But no one doubts this, and therefore it does not need to be 
 proved. Life has and displays humanity ; of this there is no 
 question ; but whence and by what means has it this % This 
 must come into question and examination. Is humanity a 
 purely natural product of human life % Does human life really, 
 in its purely natural condition, surpass the graceful vegetable 
 world in lovely beauty, as should properly be the case, since 
 human life is a higher form of nature than the vegetable 
 world ? Does humanity, since it must be considered as the cha- 
 racter of the race, arrive at complete development, not merely 
 in single places and expressions, but everywhere in the whole 
 life, so unrestrictedly and without stunting, as in brute-life 
 savageness unfolds itself as the character of the beasts of prey, 
 and mildness as that of the lamb % Is the bestiality in human 
 life, which undeniably exists together with the humanity, some- 
 thing just as much desired by God, as, without doubt, the 
 humanity is ? Can we say that the thirst for blood belongs 
 as essentially and indispensably to the whole of human life as to 
 the nature of the lion and tiger % And would humanity ac- 
 cordingly cease to be humanity, if it lost this blood-thirst, as 
 certainly as the tiger and lion, without it, would not be tiger 
 and lion % Are the innumerable blood-stains, which life every- 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 199 
 
 where bears on it, to be regarded as nothing more than freckles 
 on single places of epidermis, which are of no account or conse- 
 quence in the well-pleasing sight which the whole affords ? Has 
 the whole inner process of life always and throughout a normal 
 course ? Are there nowhere diseased parts ? Do interruptions 
 and stoppages nowhere occur ? Does the inner organism of life 
 know T no exuberant fulness on the one hand, which is neces- 
 sarily connected with an increasing disease on the other? — 
 these are the questions which, at the point in the examination 
 we have now arrived at, are present as the most decisive ; and 
 that these questions must be answered altogether in the negative, 
 cannot possibly appear doubtful to one who fully weighs them. 
 As certainly as the life of nature is really that which it 
 wishes and ought to be, so certainly is human life not in its 
 purely natural stage of development ; as certainly as the former 
 has attained its conception of vegetable and animal life uncon- 
 strained in joyous development, and perfectly fills out its 
 sphere, so certainly does the latter either remain far behind its 
 conception of true human life, or approaches it only gradually 
 with toil and effort, and, in general, only half fills its sphere 
 with genuine contents ; as certainly as there the beautiful and 
 perfect of its kind appears in the great whole and in all its 
 parts, so certainly does it here appear only sporadically ; as 
 certainly as the former is sound and uncorrupted at heart, so 
 certainly is the latter sick and weak at core, since it leaves pre- 
 cisely its essential form and side in part entirely undeveloped, 
 in part only scantily unfolded, so that it is far outweighed 
 by the sensuous animal side in inward strength and outward 
 respectability ; and as certainly as the living God will and can 
 create only life, so certainly He cannot be charged with the 
 vicious deadness 10 into which the higher tendencies and noble 
 powers of human life, estranged from God, have sunk. And 
 how deep this degradation, how great the power of this mis- 
 
 10 Cf. Rep. 2. 379. c. 10, 617. e. [ii. pp. 60, 308]. 
 
200 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 chief, thus become native to human life, must be, is seen plainly 
 enough in the ill-success of so many and persevering endeavours 
 to ameliorate and elevate life. Have not thousands of philan- 
 thropic, political, intellectual, and moral lever-forces been toiling 
 for thousands of years in the elevation of life to its true dignity? 
 And in what proportion does the success stand to their unresting 
 activity % 
 
 He who would render evident by a single example the 
 contrast between the joyfully full development of the beautiful 
 in the life of nature, and its scanty and sullen development in 
 the higher human life, needs only compare a blossoming tree in 
 its splendour with man's performance of duty. In the former, 
 what a wealth of beauteous pictures ! in the latter, what 
 poverty ! There, what struggling, thronging, welling forth of 
 countless buds on all sides ; here, what a few meagre and 
 unwilling exercises of virtue forced from inward disinclination ! 
 how many instances of half and entire neglect or infraction of 
 duty ! That which in human life displays itself in such cheer- 
 ful freshness and fulness of sap, like the trees in spring, is not 
 the moral but the sensuous animal part of its nature. But 
 now it cannot be for a moment doubted that the morally 
 beautiful could and should bloom forth in human life with just 
 as joyful unrestrained fulness as the impulse towards the light 
 in trees ; for the moral powers and capacities could not be 
 originally worse and less capable than the sensuous : if, there- 
 fore, they are now, as appearance teaches us, more faded or 
 faint-hearted than these, this must be considered not as an 
 evil created by God, but as one which has arisen without His 
 fault. 
 
 If now the essential difference between the two great terri- 
 tories of life, which we call nature-history and world-history, is 
 to be set forth more definitely ; if the original capacity of world- 
 history, for a glory and significance far surpassing that of 
 nature-history, is to appear more plainly than hitherto, and 
 its sad coming short of this to be clearly perceived as so much 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 201 
 
 the more deplorable, — we need only take more closely into view 
 that principle of human life which causes us to perceive most 
 unmistakeably its capability for higher dignity and importance. 
 This is the consciousness. In consciousness, the life of nature 
 blooms up to true human life ; by the consciousness of itself, 
 individuality raises itself to personality : the personal conscious- 
 ness gives to the existence of the individual man an essentially 
 different meaning from that of the individual existence of the 
 brute, viz., a meaning in and of itself, besides a general signifi- 
 cance for the whole. Man, as a conscious being, is to be and 
 to pass for something as an individual ; not so the brute : the 
 brute is not to exist of itself, but in and for the whole ; its 
 individual existence is fully resigned and subordinated to the 
 ends of nature and its species, and it has no other will, and no 
 other determination than to serve these ends. For this service, 
 indeed, nature takes possession of and claims a part of human 
 existence, but only a part : consciousness, in its highest develop- 
 ment, is not its slave, but only its freedman ; and this freedom 
 is so inalienable a property of the consciousness, that it always 
 ascends into it again, however much the man may exert him- 
 self to cast himself together with it back into the depths of 
 merely physical existence : the motions of the conscience are 
 nothing but the indestructible witnesses of the ever-returning 
 ascendancy of the spiritual over the sensuous and natural. 
 
 From the fact now, that man enters with and by his per- 
 sonal consciousness into a sphere in which every individual is 
 to count and pass for one, and is to serve not merely the pur- 
 poses which he finds before him, but also to choose and set ob- 
 jects before himself, when we speak of evil in human life, the 
 case is manifestly quite otherwise than when evil in natural life 
 is discussed. For here are present entirely different conceptions 
 of value and perfection ; here appear entirely different relations 
 and requirements, here quite different principles and measures 
 come into application. It cannot be said, the earth has very 
 many waste places, in which nature has developed no germs, 
 
202 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 called forth no life ; consequently, we may content ourselves with 
 a similar condition of things in human life. It cannot be said, 
 in the world of brutes, we perceive the existence of blood-suckers 
 and beasts of prey to be necessary and indispensable ; why, then, 
 do we find their occurrence in human life so thoroughly inad- 
 missible and intolerable ? It cannot be said, the life of nature 
 is often and variously pierced and punished by terrible pains ; 
 and what this is compelled to suffer, to that must human life 
 also patiently submit ; — for in nature the life of the species 
 merely is desired, but in human life particularly the individual 
 personal life. In the former, therefore, the lack of individuals 
 matters little, but in the latter very much. It is in reference to 
 the whole that nature forms beasts of prey, and unhesitatingly 
 delivers over individuals to individuals. That, however, which 
 cruelty in human life injures and destroys, is not impersonal but 
 personal existence ; and, if destruction is to be allowed here, it 
 must accordingly be able to appeal to something quite other and 
 higher than physical aims and brutish impulses ; and all pain in 
 the life of nature is not only circumscribed as to time and space, 
 seldom proceeding beyond the circle and duration of its develop- 
 ment, but it also remains ever involved in a certain insensibility, 
 which renders it tolerable with but little effort. But in human 
 life, consciousness gives it a fearful sharpness, and leads it over, 
 often with unalleviated severity, from the present into the dis- 
 tant future, from the life-circles first touched, to all those con- 
 nected with them. When a brute dies, all his fellow-creatures 
 who are fresh in life enjoy their existence in undisturbed com- 
 posure, but a tormented man not seldom draws thousands of his 
 fellow-men into the feeling of his torment. 
 
 When Louis XVI. wished to speak to his people from the 
 scaffold, his judges caused his voice to be drowned by the 
 beating of drums. Their interests required that they should 
 not allow the voice of innocence and truth to penetrate the 
 hearts of the people. So there is an equally powerful and 
 widely spread disposition in life, the great object of which is to 
 
 \ 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 203 
 
 retain life in the good faith of its excellence and all-sufficiency. 
 If, therefore, any voice or event will urgently admonish life to 
 the recognition of its need and shame, this disposition is im- 
 mediately busy in weakening the strength of this admonishing 
 call, and preventing as much as possible the awaking of life 
 from the flattering dreams of its undiminished glory. It exerts 
 itself to the utmost for this end, and shuns not to use the boldest 
 falsehood, if this only promises to ward off securely the entrance 
 of the hated truth. And rather than admit that life has sunk 
 deep, and hence needs elevation, and that its most vital parts are 
 suffering from a disease which renders healing necessary, when 
 it can no longer veil the disturbed condition of that side of life 
 organized for a higher development, it denies entirely to life its 
 calling to freedom and humanity, and maintains that it was in- 
 tended for no- other existence and blessedness at all than the 
 sensuous and natural ; and this merely in order to prevent the 
 painful feeling of shame from coming into the mind, because it 
 well knows that the life of this is its death. 
 
 But in vain ! Life does not itself believe in the blameless 
 excellence of its natural character ; it feels clearly that it is not 
 what it could and might be. Whatever the carnal sense may 
 sing or say before it of its incomparable worth, it does not 
 become free from its unrest, and longing, for a better fame. 
 In the midst of the joy which beams on its countenance, there 
 often moves an obscure pain in its loudest jubilee, not rarely 
 mingles a low but heart-rending cry of grief. This comes from 
 the inmost depths, from a sorrow which has no joy. Life hears 
 it with dissatisfaction and shuddering, and yet with secret pro- 
 scribed desire for it. It reflects on it, calls it forth, introduces 
 it into its most favourite melodies, connects with it its deepest 
 earnestness ; and when this plaintive cry has once entered the 
 soul of a man, for him it will never die away : he will never be 
 free from its dissonant mingling in all the jubilee of life; he 
 will never find again the disturbed serenity and ease of his ex- 
 istence, until he has found that after which the voice complain- 
 
204 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 ingly cries. It is the voice of a noble prisoner, who sighs for 
 freedom, towards which his thought sleeps not day nor night : I 
 am more than a mere ripple of the blood, more than a fleeting 
 tension of the nerves ; I am a being created for life and en- 
 deavour, — a power intended for independent existence ; but I 
 am a squandered, mis-used inheritance, a poor bound tenant, — 
 6 for to will is present with me, but how to perform that which 
 is good, I find not.' — ' O wretched man that I am, who shall 
 deliver me from the body of this death?' (Rom. vii. 18, 24). 
 
 Not merely its evil does life deeply feel and loudly confess ; 
 it feels this evil also to be its guilt ! As this is ever recurring to 
 its consciousness as its guilt, however strenuously and repeatedly 
 it may * strive to roll off the tormenting burden, this is, of 
 course, far more painful than the feeling of the evil itself from 
 which it suffers. 
 
 We need not enter into an extended refutation of the well- 
 known theory of excuse, which is still, from desks and pulpits, 
 alas ! proposed to life for its sweet consolation. What can poor 
 man do, cries this theory, for his sinfulness ? He has not created 
 himself. He has not made the critical composition of his being 
 from heavenly spirit and earthly dust, he has not placed in his 
 sensuous nature the violent impulses which overpower the mind ! 
 Yet, apparently, the development of sensuality which advances 
 before the spiritual development, and the strength of it which is 
 necessary for the earthly end of life, is the mother of all pas- 
 sions and sins. 
 
 Life is much too wise, and holds itself too dear, to assent 
 entirely without hesitation to this view, which removes the guilt 
 from it, and rolls it on the Creator ; for it is quite clear that 
 life must renounce healing and salvation entirely, so soon as the 
 proposition is established and universally believed in, that it has 
 not deserved its sentence. On this very feeling of guilt depends 
 the single hope and possibility of its recovery ; for if life feels 
 itself guilty, it also feels itself capable of being otherwise than it- 
 is. But if it incurs no guilt by its evil character, it has also no 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 205 
 
 virtue and no future ; for then sin is not something which has 
 arisen from its nature, and is done by itself, and consequently 
 superable, but something done to it against its will, therefore 
 insuperable, and connected with it by iron necessity. Then a 
 redemption from sin is possible only by death or transformation ; 
 and a separation of sin from life, in either of these two ways, 
 could not with any propriety be called a redemption. 
 
 Yet life has long since, by the fact, refuted the God-accusing 
 assertion, that it is not guilty of its criminality. Long since has 
 life factually demonstrated, that it neither despairs of salvation 
 nor believes in the truth of that excuse. It by no means resigns 
 itself with shoulder-shruggings to the natural weakness of its 
 higher principle, as to an unalterable fate : it is rather con- 
 tinually looking about for help ; and as soon as it obtains this, 
 conducts the factual proof of the powerful and joyous rule of 
 the spirit over the flesh, in single forms and characters. 
 
 But let not single presentations of its spiritual glory satisfy 
 it. It must see the masses seized, moved, and penetrated by the 
 spirit, because it is only by the powerful propagation of its im- 
 pulses that it is and is called life : the heart-beat must set the 
 whole of the blood in motion ; every organ must feel itself excited 
 to co-operation by the activity of the others ; there must be an 
 uninterrupted connection between all the powers and activities 
 of the organism, a continual playing into one another of the life- 
 forces, if the bodily life is to be a true and sound lif e. As in the 
 life of the body, so in the human life on earth. Force is to 
 awaken force ; the places forced into true and full life are not 
 to be oases in sandy deserts and steppes, but to spread abroad on 
 every side. Between all the scattered points of light an inner lif e- 
 communion is to be established ; the highest and most inward 
 animation is to extend its waves in ever wider and wider circles 
 over the whole earth : for as the race of man, quite different! v 
 from the races of plants and animals, which are circumscribed 
 to countries and zones, is spread over the whole earth, so also 
 everywhere, where men are, is true human life to be or become. 
 
206 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 This is what history should be, or rather is ; it is, in its essence, 
 human life becoming, and is thereby essentially different from 
 natural history : for the life in this is one concluded within 
 itself, and that which predominates in the contemplation of it is 
 space ; in the former, on the other hand, it has a relation to the 
 infinite, and presents itself especially as connected with time ; — 
 the former is shaped from effects, the latter produces itself from 
 acts. The deed is the source and characteristic trait of world- 
 history. Natural history has no deeds, only events ; for the 
 same reason, it knows nothing of guilt, without, however, pos- 
 sessing this guiltlessness as innocence. 
 
 Here, then, where the sense and meaning of history are dis- 
 closed, do the predominant inclinations and strivings of life also 
 first become perfectly clear, and appear in their intimate relation 
 to each other, and to the fundamental striving of the whole. 
 Life feels its debt, and desires to pay it : hence its never-resting 
 haste to fill out all its parts ; hence its discontent with the ever- 
 rising feeling of vacuity ; hence its meditation and thinking of 
 works of satisfaction and expiation ; hence the intense earnest- 
 ness of its guilt-offerings, punishments, penances, and self-tor- 
 tures; hence the harshness and severity of its monastic vows 
 and priestly regulations ; hence the number and variety of its 
 sacred customs, its dedications and purifications, its prayers and 
 mysteries. Life has a presentiment of the distance between its 
 reality and its idea, and perceives it ever the more clearly the 
 more its consciousness is developed : hence its constant fluctua- 
 tion between the lofty and the low; hence the innumerable 
 contradictions which everywhere break out from its inward dis- 
 union; hence its striving after consciousness and after stupe- 
 faction, its urgency to grasp itself and to be free from itself, 
 its impulse towards collection and also dispersion, its inclination 
 for quiet and for a throng ; hence its reaching about for firm 
 points of support, its desire for powerful attractions, excite- 
 ments, and elevations ; hence its everlasting sorrow and eternal 
 complaint of the dreamlike nothingness of its perishable glory 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 207 
 
 and toil; 11 hence its un quieted longing for pure and lasting 
 happiness ; hence its childish desire for wonders, legends, and 
 tales, in which, as in a mirror, it beholds itself satisfied and 
 perfected. Life becomes aware that it has a history whose 
 fundamental trait is its suffering, whose contents are its deeds, 
 whose goal is its complete development and formation : hence 
 its joy in action, in fight, and power, and victory, its foreboding 
 love for heroes, knights, and rescuers; hence its pleasure in 
 poetry, which in epics and tragedy glorifies its deeds and suffer- 
 ing ; hence its inclination to lyric flights, and to faith in seers, 
 oracles, and signs ; hence its thoroughgoing propensity to wait 
 and to hope, its susceptibility to total impressions and move- 
 ments, its instantaneous readiness to form a circle around 
 points or individualities which promise much or radiate a 
 powerful influence. 
 
 And thus, then, life allows it to be perceived with sufficient 
 plainness; for what it most prof oundly longs, and what it feels to 
 be its most urgent need, it desires the removal of its pressure of 
 guilt and its weakness, it desires a full sense of its power and 
 dignity. If now we have apprehended this feeling of debt, and 
 this weakness as its evil, that which produces its full sense must 
 present itself to us in the conception of salvation, which, con- 
 sequently, regarded merely from the biological point of view, 
 shows the two chief things desired, — the negative, liberation 
 from all that is destructive and stunting ; and the positive, ful- 
 ness of ability and freshness. 
 
 Whencesoever, also, the salvation of life may come, it is clear, 
 without further discussion, from the preceding, that it is not really 
 salvation, if it does not really take away the guilt, if, therefore, 
 it comes into life as only an image or thought, not as deed 
 and truth ; if, further, it does not penetrate into the conscious- 
 ness and innermost depths ; if it does not extend itself through 
 the whole, but holds itself within a separate circle ; if it does 
 
 11 Eccles. ii. 17, iv. 1, v. 15, vi. 5, etc. 
 
208 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 not have or produce joyous freshness of life ; if, in fine, it does 
 not operate towards the perfect formation of life to its highest 
 ends. 
 
 We' ask now : Whence is such salvation and help to accrue 
 to life ? Who is to be the saviour of life % 
 
 Nature is to be the saviour. For i when the wanderer over 
 land and sea, or the historical inquirer, pursues through all 
 countries the uniform comfortless picture of the disunited race, 
 he gladly lowers his gaze to the still life of plants, and to the 
 inner working of the sacred power of nature ; or, yielding to the 
 hereditary impulse which for thousands of years has glowed in 
 the human breast, he gazes, full of presentiments, upwards to the 
 constellations, which, in undisturbed harmony, complete their 
 ancient everlasting course!' Yes, mother nature has healing 
 balsam for the wounded heart of man ; and can faithful ad- 
 herence to her changeless fidelity and regularity do otherwise 
 than redound to the true welfare of life ? Has not all the evil 
 of human life arisen from its breaking loose from nature, from 
 its forgetting her aims and laws, from its deviation from her 
 order and simplicity ? Back, therefore, to nature ! — and life has 
 its needed assistance. 
 
 But Nature cannot be a Saviour. 
 
 For from her lower sphere cannot come that which life needs 
 for its full development in a higher sphere. That cannot grow 
 on the soil of her blind necessity, which is lacking to the awak- 
 ened free consciousness for its welfare and peace ; and the peace, 
 which her splendour of flowers and stars causes to flow into the 
 soul in some hours and moods, demands, on the one hand, in 
 order to be felt, the previous existence of that higher and nobler 
 principle, for whose genial cultivation this helpful power is 
 sought ; on the other hand, that peace which is built entirely on 
 wavering feeling, changes only too frequently and easily into a 
 fearful horror, when the dark death-dominion of nature yawns 
 before man like an inappeasable cholera-grave, and the aestheti- 
 cally contemplated arch of heaven presents itself to the cold 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 209 
 
 conception as that which it really is, — an immeasurable abyss of 
 stars, in which the earth, with all its anguish and raptures, runs 
 its course as an insignificant atom. 
 
 But if Nature cannot be a saviour, Art can be one. Its very 
 name and etymology indicate that its fundamental idea is that 
 of ability. It complements and perfects the inability of nature 
 and life, and presents — what these are not in a condition to 
 produce — the perfectly beautiful. Life enjoys its perfect con- 
 figuration in art. Does it not remove all restrictions, and raise 
 to full significance all that should be significant, but cannot be 
 so on account of unfavourable influences % Does it not, there- 
 fore, bring the idea to unstunted existence, to beautiful reality % 
 Does it not, therefore, procure for life that after which it longs, 
 — its conformity to its idea % Certainly every true work of art 
 cannot operate otherwise than satisfying and reconciling, for 
 it lifts the view out of its empirical narrowness, and procures 
 for it the delightful contemplation of something whole, free, 
 completed, and perfect of its kind. And thus, then, art has 
 peculiarly the duties of a saviour and the powers of a redeemer. 
 
 But yet Art cannot be a saviour. 
 
 That it cannot thoroughly remove the evil of life, but only 
 cause it to be for a moment forgotten, is evident enough from 
 its natural and necessary disinclination thereto. From reality 
 as such, it is not indeed in general abstracted, but from real 
 evil and grief it is. It is only concerned with this, in so far as 
 a portion, however small, of the ideal and pleasing is found 
 therein ; it decidedly refuses all that is purely unrefreshing. 
 And it must do so, for its conscious entrance thereupon would 
 be its death and destruction. Tears of care and grief ex- 
 tinguish all the artistic fire of inspiration, and art is powerless 
 before bare blank misery. It is indebted chiefly to the flight 
 of fancy for the attainment of its high aims. But life wants 
 more than mere pieces of fancy : fancy cannot help it from its 
 real need, because fancy, at its highest point, only assists it to 
 lose sight of it. 
 
 14 
 
210 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 Here now Philosophy comes forward and offers herself, as 
 she did in antiquity and does also in our times, for the im- 
 portant service of saviour to life. (Cf. above, p. 144 sq.) 
 
 We will leave undecided awhile the trial of her capacity 
 for this, but cannot withhold the preliminary remark, that she 
 would not seem likely, on account of her abstract scientific 
 character, to suit the ever concrete life, and to operate imme- 
 diately thereupon. 
 
 Yes, say the friends of human welfare, philosophy is only 
 for the learned, not for the people : therefore she cannot be the 
 saviour. But culture can be so. Civilisation adapts herself 
 thereto, for she is the common good of all : she is a cosmopolitan 
 by birth, she belongs immediately to life ; its blood flows in her 
 veins, its experiences ripen in her head, its language sounds 
 from her lips, and she enters into all its relations, cares for the 
 representation and satisfaction of all interests, both material 
 and spiritual. In her the head and heart, which else go in 
 different directions, toil and work together ; she removes the 
 disunion between theory and practice, and unites the two in a 
 peaceful and advantageous alliance. And if nature is not 
 impotent, art not wanting in powerful influence, and science 
 not without high dignity — how much deeper must the signifi- 
 cance of civilisation be for life, how much more powerful and 
 blessed her influence, since she bears within herself unmistake- 
 ably the nutritive material for all these, and entertains life with 
 the extract of all the great, beautiful, and excellent which she 
 becomes acquainted with in art, nature, and science. 
 
 In fact, scarcely any promise of prosperity inspires life with 
 so much confidence as that of civilisation. This confidence 
 has also undeniably sent out its roots, especially in our times, 
 deeply and widely in the old as in the new world; and the 
 voices, which announce with enthusiasm the speedy conquest 
 of civilisation over all the antiquated religions of the earth, 
 become ever louder and more general. Have we not already 
 in our days seen a church formed by zeal for the civilisation 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 211 
 
 of the world, and its apostles make no inconsiderable conver- 
 sions ! 
 
 But yet civilisation cannot be the saviour, — for the simple 
 reason, that with her increase is also generally connected the 
 increase of evil, since she renders not merely the understanding 
 and talents of men, but also their passions, more clever and 
 cunning, and of simple impulses makes satiated ones, of a 
 robust nature an adorned and enfeebled one, and of contented 
 dispositions pretentious ones, which are acquainted with and 
 accustomed to pleasures of every kind. Refined extravagances 
 and cruelties do not occur in uncivilised life ; as we have 
 already remarked above, the most horrible crimes have their 
 seat in the abodes of the finest civilisation. 
 
 How could civilisation be the saviour 1 ask the reverers of 
 morality. She has too much to do with the material, she steers 
 her course too exclusively towards earthly happiness, instead of 
 towards the highest goal of life ; she restricts her polishing too 
 much to the external ; she penetrates far too little into the 
 depths, where evil has its real source and origin. This is 
 nowhere else than in immorality. Immorality is the mother of 
 all evil : the less immorality, the less evil in the world ; the 
 more virtue, the more perfection, nobility, and dignity of life. 
 Life is saved, when moral principles are universally current 
 and dominant. That which labours unceasingly that this may. 
 take place, is morality. Morality, therefore, is to be, and will 
 be, the saviour. 
 
 But yet Morality cannot be the saviour. 
 
 For it is in essence not properly a growth, but rather a law 
 of life ! It stands in fresh, green life only like a dry branch, 
 hung with clattering categorical imperatives, which, indeed, 
 frighten many a sparrow away from the wheat, but do not cause 
 any wheat to spring. The external accordance of performance 
 with command, morality can indeed produce, but not the in- 
 ternal ; it can demand obedience, but cannot effect it in the 
 heart. Not he that does right, but he that loves, is a righteous 
 
212 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 man ; and this love morality can indeed beautifully describe, 
 but never produce, because it is not letter but spirit, and arises 
 not in the commanded, but in the free will. 
 
 And if for these reasons, morality cannot be a saviour, the 
 state police can still less be so. It may keep life in external 
 propriety and order, but it cannot internally redeem it from 
 evil and sin. 
 
 Whence, from what side, then, is salvation for life to come, 
 if from all these sides it cannot possibly come 1 
 
 Let us turn once more to its evil, if perchance we may 
 learn from the character and tendency of this from whence its 
 help must come. Let us look more closely, which side of life 
 is seen to be most full of suffering and evil. Manifestly the 
 side which lies towards heaven, — the religious side. This is so 
 thoroughly evil, that it has been declared by many wise men 
 utterly incurable. Yea, since evil has here spread so extra- 
 ordinarily, and has so taken possession of the whole territory, 
 even sharp-sighted inquirers have been no longer able to dis- 
 tinguish this from that ; and, regarding religion as itself evil, 
 have in all earnestness proposed its complete extirpation, be- 
 lieving that in no other manner can life be restored to health 
 and happiness. 
 
 It cannot be denied that on no side is help afforded to life 
 with so much difficulty as on this. None remains, in spite of all 
 ameliorating influences, usually so obstinately bad as this ; either 
 it persists in cold immobility or complete deadness, or in feverish 
 ebullitions begets the most contrary forms. And this, again, 
 shows that no side of life is more in need of salvation than the 
 religious. But this side lies manifestly not towards the world, 
 but towards that side, on which prayer seeks for God. Therefore, 
 also, its salvation cannot have its origin from the world, and 
 purely from this side, but must come rather from that side, 
 from beyond — from God. 
 
 Yes, the living love of God is announced as alone saving, — 
 there is nothing else. For it stirs in life, now gently, now more 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 213 
 
 powerfully, something which ever longs for God, and i which 
 God Himself, who can do all things, can still only by His love ;' 
 and like as the hart panteth for fresh water, so crieth the soul 
 of mortal man after the living God (Ps. xlii. 2). 
 
 Let us now, after these results, look back into the history of 
 humanity. 
 
 We see in it a bright distinguished life-picture, which 
 extends not only its brightness, but chiefly also its animating 
 and transforming influence, around it ever more widely. And 
 this phenomenon of life does not appear disjoined from the rest 
 of life, or contrasted with it, as if violently joined to it ; but it 
 presents itself rather as intimately and peculiarly belonging to 
 the life of humanity, and even in a certain respect an organic 
 product of it. 
 
 This is the life of Christ. 
 
 A fresher, fuller life, the history of the world does not 
 furnish, and also none more beautiful and pure. Here no 
 feeling of sin tarnishes the mirror of the ever clear conscious- 
 ness ; no impure thought, no evil deed, disturbs the inward 
 peace. Here activity has nothing irksome, half or feebly done, 
 about it ; here no goodwill sighs over uncompleted works ; here 
 no important moment waits in vain for its full contents ; here 
 is rather pure fulness, connection, truth, dignity, earnestness, 
 and joy ; here is a fully coined being and activity, a life 
 throughout true to and filling out its idea. 
 
 It is certain no life shows greater fulness of deeds, more 
 decided devotion to a great and holy purpose, than this life of 
 Christ. But yet the truly significant and incomparable element 
 in it lies properly not in his action and conduct itself, but 
 rather in the origin of this action and conduct. It is the most 
 important and significant point in it, that this greatness of 
 deeds springs neither from strong sensuous impulses, nor from 
 single purposes, and daily repeated moral self-compulsions, but 
 has, on the one hand, an as organic, as, on the other, really 
 spiritual and human character and origin, coming wholly as 
 
214 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 freshly and un constrainedly from within, as leaves and fruit 
 from a tree, and yet, again, belonging as thoroughly only to the 
 consciousness and the will. In short, freedom is the source of 
 this life ; and hereby it is essentially distinct from other human 
 life, which never shapes itself forth entirely from the depths 
 of personality and freedom, but owes the bearing of its actions 
 often more than half either to the inward compulsion, or to the 
 interweaving and influence of external circumstances. 
 
 If now we ask, whence does the life of Christ obtain this 
 freedom and permanence within it, such as no other human 
 life possesses, it is clear at once that we must seek the answer 
 to this question first on that side of life which stands or should 
 stand in the most intimate relation to God. 
 
 As we saw this side which strives towards God only scantily 
 developed in common life, here, in the life of Christ, we see it 
 developed most perfectly. Are the consciousness and will in the 
 former seen to be severed from God, and only locally and 
 momentarily elevated to Him ? Here we shall perceive an 
 uninterrupted connection with God, a continued subjection to 
 Him in free desire and love ; and as we cannot but see that 
 there life, in the degree that its godlessness increases, falls to the 
 lower darker powers of the earth, so the constant in-dwelling 
 of God in the life of Christ, it must be evident to us, is the 
 principle which preserves and conditions its freedom. The two 
 conceptions of the Divine in-dwelling and freedom are, more- 
 over, separate from each other only in the succession of our 
 thought ; the things which they comprehend in themselves are 
 not separate in the life of Jesus, but unceasingly with, through, 
 and for each other. Here the Divine in-dwelling is ever at the 
 same time also free, and freedom ever at the same time Divine 
 in-dwelling ; for neither of the two would be what it is without 
 the other. In this living union of freedom and Divine in- 
 dwelling, the life of Christ presents itself as the brightest and 
 soundest on earth, as that human life which is pure, full, 
 normal, and entirely correspondent to its idea. 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 215 
 
 And that which it is, it also produces. Itself free from evil 
 within, it operates also on the heart of life to free it from evil. 
 It communicates its power and freshness, it radiates its charac- 
 ter in and over history. 
 
 The continuous, uninterrupted influence of Jesus' life on 
 earth may be apprehended and traced especially in two direc- 
 tions, — in that outwards and extensively, and in that inwards and 
 intensively : in the former, it is the great whole of humanity ; 
 in the latter, single human souls, which its working has for its 
 aim and object. 
 
 From the mobile mass of the people which flowed at one 
 time together around Jesus, and at another again apart from 
 Him, there come forward chosen friends, His faithful followers, 
 who form a narrow confidential circle about him. This circle 
 is not broken up on the death of Jesus and His departure from 
 the earth ; on the contrary, it becomes closer and firmer, it 
 grows and widens. From all sides, even from heathenism, are 
 added to the communion of the disciples such as wish to belong 
 to Christ. Everywhere are formed Christian fellowships : the 
 same love, the same enthusiasm, draws closely together both the 
 single members in every place, and also the different societies in 
 different places. They know of each other, they take part with 
 each other, they rejoice in each other, they care for each other ; 
 they feel themselves one in Christ Jesus their Lord, and 
 through Him they feel themselves to be a community separate 
 from the w T orld. And so, through all the centuries of history, 
 is manifested an increasing progress in this pious reunion over 
 all the countries of the earth, a bringing together from all 
 sides of greater or smaller masses of men into communion with 
 Christ. No movement in universal history has expressed itself 
 from the beginning so decidedly and energetically as desiring 
 to penetrate the whole life of man, as that which proceeded 
 from the life and death of Jesus (Matt, xxviii. 19 ; Acts i. 8) ; it 
 resembles the circles which a stone thrown into the glassy waters 
 forms all around it, in undulations even to the farthest shore. 
 
216 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 The historical ^tensiveness of this influence has its ground 
 in its intensive character and strength. That operation of the 
 Lord which penetrates to the heart of man, consists essentially, 
 as previously intimated, in the growing conformation and trans- 
 formation of the whole life into likeness to Christ. This is seen 
 very manifestly in Jesus' disciples. Those timid Galileans, with 
 their confused, undeveloped minds — how heroic, how victorious 
 over the world and death, how intellectually clear and great, do 
 they become by their faithful adherence to Christ ! They tes- 
 tify of Him more even by their existence and character than 
 by their words. It is His being which fills and animates theirs. 
 As He is aware of the life of God in Him (John v. 26), so are 
 they aware of His life in themselves ; they express their deepest 
 and truest self-consciousness, when they say, Christ lives in us 
 (Gal. ii. 20). And yet it is properly they who now live. Far 
 from having forfeited their personality by their inward devoted- 
 ness to the Lord, they have thus first truly gained it. Their 
 inmost soul has only most truly become their own, since it has 
 become thoroughly the Lord's ; for by this it is secured from 
 being mingled with external life, and attains to a conscious and 
 permanent unity and firmness. Their love to the Lord is the 
 source of their power and freshness ; and the life with this love 
 is a life with God and in freedom. They know now no more 
 of the power of death and the misery of sin ; now those who be- 
 fore sighed over the non-achievement of the good, give thanks 
 for their deliverance from the body of this death, and are able 
 to do all things through Him who is mighty within them 
 (Rom. vii. 25 ; Phil. iv. 13). Enough ! the longer Christ works 
 in them, the more do they possess of His freedom and nearness 
 to God ; and, generally, in every one who allows Christ to work 
 upon and within him. There occurs a re-animation, yea, a new 
 creation in him who is turned to Christ, and so remains. The 
 penetrating beam of light from Jesus' holy life, awakes and 
 separates. It awakes the properly essential in the soul; the 
 soul comprehends herself, and reflects upon her profoundest 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 217 
 
 desire. It separates the higher from the lower, the permanent 
 from the mutable. All the elements of light in the life of the 
 soul feel themselves attracted and bound by this animating 
 light from Christ, and with the illumination of the inmost soul 
 begins the first day of the new life. In Christ, the soul feels 
 the love of God : the love of God is no longer for her an ab- 
 stract thought, but her concrete living possession ; and the actual 
 certainty of this possession is the sunshine of the inner world. 
 Sin is indeed not yet fully killed, but its power is broken, it is 
 cast out from the inmost soul. Christ has wooed and won a 
 point in that inmost soul which belongs to Him, which He fills, 
 and which therefore suffers not sin within it and about it ; and 
 from hence, from the growing strength of the Christ-life within 
 us, is the dominion of sin ever more powerfully suppressed and 
 vanquished. 
 
 Thus does the life of Christ affect those susceptible souls 
 who enter its line of direction, and join the ranks of those who 
 are collected about it and are connected with it. Each in these 
 ranks is continually at the same time receiving and giving; 
 roused and filled by the Lord, he rouses others, and communi- 
 cates to them the fulness of his inner life ; but still ever only, 
 like John, pointing and leading to Him who baptizes with fire 
 and the Holy Ghost. The living stream of Christ's love, which, 
 springing from God, continually pours itself into the life of 
 man, finds and forms everywhere a living connection of souls 
 which draw from it and lead it on. 
 
 And here also it cannot long remain concealed from us, that 
 the working of Jesus' love and life, which we have regarded 
 separately and as distinct from each other, the one proceeding 
 outwards and the other inwards, are thoroughly like each other, 
 and by no means essentially different. That which occurs in 
 the soul, when the Christian life is formed, is fundamentally 
 entirely the same as that which takes place in the w T orld, on the 
 spread of Christianity in it. In the former as in the latter, the 
 moving principle proceeds from a central point, which bears 
 
218 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 within it eternal life ; in the former as in the latter, the move- 
 ment begins with a process of separation of the friends of Jesus 
 from the world, of those parts of the soul which are affected 
 towards Christ from carnality and sensuousness ; in the former 
 as in the latter, the penetrating beam of light brings with it a 
 casting down of those masses which are unwilling or unable to 
 enter the higher connection aimed at ; in the former as in the 
 latter, the disciples of the Lord will not remain restricted to the 
 narrowest space, and serve the law of sin, but rather spread 
 themselves on all sides over the whole field, and give God alone 
 the glory ; in the former as in the latter, there must accordingly 
 be a continual struggle against all opposing elements and 
 forces ; in the former as in the latter, the continued or ever- 
 renewed life-communion with God is the alone condition and 
 source of all true strength, victorious joy, and godliness. And 
 now we first rightly understand why Christ designates that 
 which He desires in the world, and in the soul, by the same 
 word, and uses the conception of the kingdom of God, now in 
 a physical, now in a historical sense. 12 
 
 The kingdom of God comprehends, accordingly, the whole 
 life, the inward as the outward. It excludes all evil and misery 
 of sin, wherever it comes, and includes the fulness of life and 
 godliness ; for it consists essentially in the powerful presence of 
 the Lord and His love, which, wherever it is, produces His life, 
 His freedom, and His peace. 
 
 And here, then, we have arrived at that point which our 
 inquiry into the nature of the Christian element took into view 
 at the very commencement as the decisive one. We have now, 
 namely, perceived clearly, not in poetry, dream, or thought 
 merely, but from life, from facts, and from historical reality, 
 both what human life has most need of, and also that, by the 
 life of Christ, he obtains a more perfect satisfaction than from 
 any other source. Salvation, we saw, is life's most pressing 
 
 12 Matt. xix. 23, 24, xiii. 24, 38 ; Luke xvii. 20, 21/ 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 219 
 
 necessity, and salvation in the truest and most comprehensive 
 sense of the word — shelter and protection from all that is bad, 
 from sin, death, and hell, strength and help for all that is 
 good, for faith, love, and hope ; and this from above, from the 
 Father of light, who is Love, and who wills not that any should 
 be lost, but that all who believe in His Son should have eternal 
 life, — this is the blessed gift of the Redeemer. 
 
 If, accordingly, we understand Christianity — that is, the his- 
 torical life-form, whose kernel, contents, and soul is the life of 
 Christ, as the heavenly saving power in the earthly life of man 
 — we have at the same time also apprehended and found the 
 idea of the Christian element. 
 
 The Christian element is that which has power to save. 
 
 To the correctness of this rendering of the conception, the 
 Scriptures and Biblical theology furnish the most valid testimony. 
 
 If we open the Scriptures, we are everywhere met by a sur- 
 prising multitude of such , passages which contain the idea of 
 salvation, or have reference to it. Nothing is so frequently 
 named and presented in the Bible as sin and evil on the one 
 hand, salvation and life on the other ; this every one knows 
 who is not a stranger to the holy book. It would be a waste of 
 time and space, if we should adduce all the passages here in 
 which these ideas occur. 
 
 The whole Bible moves apparently round the idea of salva- 
 tion, as round its axis. Its two parts, the Old and New Testa- 
 ments, are related to each other, so to speak, as the development 
 of evil and of salvation. The Old Testament is especially the 
 history of evil, the New Testament that of salvation on earth. 
 In the former, the way from God, in the latter the way to God, 
 is historically predominant. In the former are everywhere pre- 
 sented to us, from the first page to the last, the unhappy con- 
 sequences of the Fall; in the latter, the blessed effects of reunion 
 with God. Death is the penalty of sin — this is the principal 
 theme of the Old ; but the gift of God is eternal life — this is the 
 sum of the New Testament (Rom. vi. 23). From the sin of 
 
220 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 the first man to the entire ruin of the Jewish nation, is spun a 
 dark unbroken thread of evil. But above it — and this is the 
 relieving part of the Old Testament — seems equally unbroken, 
 even unto Christ's advent, a bright thread of announcements 
 of salvation, which commences at the same historical point at 
 which the development of the misery of sin begins. 
 
 Salvation and help from God are, accordingly, the contents 
 of almost all the prayers of all the Godfearing ; 13 rescue and sal- 
 vation are the goal of their pious wishes, the object of their hope 
 and longing. 14 The divinely inspired seers announce salvation, 15 
 the oppressed people of the Lord expect salvation, an abundance 
 of pleasant pictures of salvation are diffused, in the various ap- 
 prehensions of the one fundamental thought, through all the 
 legends and lays of the Old Covenant. Fountain, cup, light, 
 shield, helmet — everything that is beneficent, rejoicing, pro- 
 tective, elevating, on earth, becomes the bearer and emblem of 
 heavenly salvation, 16 to which the eyes of the faithful look, and 
 for which then' souls thirst. 
 
 And when in Jesus the long-expected and promised One is 
 born, the heavenly messengers announce to the inhabitants of 
 earth the words of joy, Unto you is born this day, a Saviour ; 17 
 and as through the history of the Old Testament sounded the 
 announcement that He would come, so henceforth peals through 
 
 13 Ps. vi. 3, xiv. 7, xlvi. 2, 1. 23, lxxxv. 7, cxviii. 14, etc. The root of 
 the biblical conception of salvation is undoubtedly external, physical. So in 
 the Old Test., "when God is called a Saviour, 1 Chron. xvi. 35; Ps. lxxxv. 
 5 ; Isa. xliii. 11. Cf. Tit. i. 3, 4, iii. 4, 6 ; 1 Tim. ii. 3, etc., it is gene- 
 rally as deliverer from danger, or as affording protection from enemies. So 
 also in the New Test., Acts vii. 25, xxvii. 34 ; Heb. xi. 7, etc. The con- 
 ception of salvation was spiritualized gradually, as the Mosaic theocracy was 
 transformed into the Christian Kingdom of Heaven. 
 
 14 Gen. xlix. 18 ; Micah vii. 7 ; Ps. cxix. 81, 1G6, 174, etc. 
 
 15 Isa. xii. 2, li. 5, Hi. 7, lvi. 1 ; Hos. xiii. 9, 14 ; Jer. viii. 22, xlvi. 11 ; 
 Hab. iii. 18, etc. 
 
 16 Isa. xii. 3 ; Joel iii. 23 ; Ps. cxvi. 13, xxvii. 1, vii. 11, xviii. 36 ; Isa. 
 lix. 17 ; Eph. v. 17 ; Ps. xviii. 3, cxxxii. 17, v. 13 ; Isa. xlv. 8, lxi. 10, 11, 
 etc. 17 Luke ii. 11. 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 221 
 
 history the joyful tidings that He is come. 18 This ever-resound- 
 ing Christinas carol from henceforth resolves gradually into 
 itself all the dissonances of human life. History would be an 
 insufferably harsh consonant, without the vowel sounding with 
 and through it, of the love of God in the life of Christ. 
 
 To be the Saviour of men, to redeem the captives, to heal 
 the broken-hearted, 19 — this Jesus on His public appearance de- 
 clared to be His peculiar calling. As a Saviour, in the com- 
 prehensive sense of the word, He wanders through the land of 
 Judea ; 20 the sick and wretched flow to Him from all sides, and 
 receive from Him healing and forgiveness of sins. 21 His apostles 
 extol Him as the Saviour of the world, even of all men ; and so 
 the Gospels represent Him from whom they come. 22 To save, 
 help, free, redeem, give life, bless, 23 — these are the expressions 
 by which the Apostles designate the effect of the power of their 
 Lord ; and all that which, rich in blessing, proceeds from Him, 
 all that He does and desires on earth, they, as He Himself, com- 
 prehend in the single word Salvation ; 24 and they know not how 
 better to express the peculiar power both of His teaching and of 
 His life and death, than by the conception of that which is saying 
 or has power to save. 20 
 
 If now we turn to Biblical theology, we cannot but perceive 
 that all its other main ideas are germinally contained in, and 
 organically developed from, the idea of that which has power to 
 
 18 Tit. ii. 11 ; 1 John iy. 9. 
 
 19 Luke iv. 18. Cf. Matt. i. 21. 
 
 20 Matt. viii. 16 ; Mark vi. 56 ; Luke v. 15 ; John vi. 2, etc. 
 
 21 Luke xvii. 13 ; Mark i. 40 ; Matt. ix. 2. 
 
 22 Luke i. 30, hi. 6 ; 1 John iv. 14 ; Acts hi. 16, iv. 12, xiii. 47 ; Tit. 
 ii. 13 ; Phil. iii. 20. 
 
 23 Matt. x. 22 ; Mark x. 26 ; Luke xiii. 23 ; John iii. 17, xii. 47 ; Acts 
 xv. 1 ; Eom. v. 10 ; 1 Cor. v. 5 ; Gal. iii. 13 ; Eph. ii. 5 ; 1 Thess. i. 10 ; 
 2 Tim. i. 9 ; Heb. ii. 15 ; 1 Pet. i. 18 ; James i. 21, etc. 
 
 24 John iv. 22 ; Luke xix. 9 ; Acts xiii. 26 ; Eom. xiii. 11, i. 16 ; 
 1 Thess. v. 9 : Eph. i. 13 ; 1 Cor. i. 30 ; Col. i. 14 ; Heb. ii. 3, 10, etc. 
 
 26 Tit. ii. 11 ; Acts xxviii. 28. 
 
1/ 
 
 222 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 save ; and that, consequently, no other will conduct us so well 
 as it to the living comprehension of the whole of Christianity. 
 In order to convince ourselves of this, let us attend to the un- 
 folding of that which is comprised in this idea. 
 
 If we designate the Christian element as that which is 
 savingly efficient, we express by this that it aims principally at 
 life, or that by its nature and tendency it is thoroughly practical. 
 For the idea of salvation proceeds only from life, and has no 
 other object. Salvation is the most natural and the most general 
 desire of life, and obtains its truest and highest fulfilment 
 through Christ, because this fulfilment proceeds from Christ, 
 and stretches into eternity. And thus the essentially theologi- 
 cal part in the Christian conception of salvation, intimates the 
 divine origin of Christianity. 
 
 But if the Christian, considered as the saving element, has 
 life for its object, then life regarded from the Christian point of 
 view must appear full of evil and needing salvation, — therefore 
 not in a gratifying, but in a disturbing condition. And, in fact, 
 the Christian view of life, in so far as life still lacks its salvation, 
 is a serious and painful one. 26 
 
 This characteristic sorrowful trait of Christianity, in its view 
 of unholy life, cannot, however, if Christianity is indeed savingly 
 efficient, and operating as such, be a fixed and permanent one ; 
 it rather must disappear, and yield to the exj)ression of the 
 clearest serenity and joy, so soon as Christianity has attained its 
 object, and has penetrated any part of life with the power of its 
 salvation. And, as we know, the Scriptures also declare the 
 kingdom of God to be identical with peace and joy. 27 
 
 But, if now Christianity procure and secure salvation for 
 human life, it cannot, seeing that this life is one organized for 
 consciousness and personality, pass by consciousness and per- 
 sonality ; but it must enter into them, and incline both of them 
 to the reception of its influence. If Christianity wished to 
 
 2G Luke xix. 41. 27 Rom. xiv. 17. 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 223 
 
 operate on man without his knowledge, and against his will, its 
 agency could not be or be called a saving one ; because then 
 it would set aside that which is just the most significant in 
 this life. And thus, then, the saving agency of Christianity, 
 if it will truly deserve the name, must always go first to the will 
 and consciousness of man, and, if these are alienated, labour to 
 turn them round towards itself. For which reason also, the first 
 requirement, which ever precedes the kingdom of heaven, is the 
 exhortation to repentance and conversion. 28 
 
 Only lie feels himself moved to accept the offered salvation, 
 who knows and feels his sinful need and wretchedness. 29 Hence 
 the remarkably frequent references of Christianity to sin and 
 its consequences ; ao hence its zealous striving to bring men to 
 the recognition and confession of their sins ; 31 hence its making 
 this recognition the indispensable condition of attaining salva- 
 tion ; 82 hence the violent struggle against all that hinders men 
 from coming to the perception and sense of their sin, against 
 heathenish degradation in the lust of the world and the flesh, 33 
 and against the pride of imagination and self-righteousness; 34 
 hence, also, the love and kindness towards sinners with which 
 Christianity has been reproached both in ancient and modern 
 times. 35 
 
 Christianity, because it wishes to prove itself savingly 
 efficient to the very heart of life, leads to a very different view of 
 sin from that which the judgment of the world produces and 
 cherishes. The world's judgment views sin, generally, only at 
 its momentary appearance at single points in the surface of life, 
 
 28 Matt. iii. 2, iv. 17 ; Lukexiii. 3, xv. 7 ; Acts ii. 38, xvii. 30, etc. 
 
 29 Luke v. 31 ; Matt. ix. 12. 
 
 30 Matt. v. 19, xxv. 31, sq. ; Lukexiii. 3, sq. ; John v. 14 ; Acts ii. 38 ; 
 Rom. vi. 23 ; James i. 15, etc. 
 
 31 Matt. xix. 16; Luke xvii. 10 ; Rom. iii. 23 ; Gal. iii. 22, etc. 
 
 32 Matt. vii. 3 ; 1 John i. 8, 9. 
 
 33 Matt. vi. 21, sq. ; Luke xvii. 27 ; Phil. iii. 18, 19, etc. 
 
 34 Matt. v. 20, xxiii. 2, sq. ; Luke xviii. 9, etc. 
 
 35 Luke vii. 34, 47, xv. 2, sq. Tide supra, p. 57, n. 98. 
 
224 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 and does not regard it as existing where it is not externally 
 visible. But Christianity teaches us to seek and recognise the 
 essence of sin in the whole of the disposition, not in single mani- 
 festations of the same. It calls attention to the deadness of the 
 idea of God in us, and demonstrates this inward alienation from 
 God to be the true essence of sin. 36 But that no single human 
 life is free from this alienation, is sufficiently evident from 
 the effort which it costs every one to accustom himself inwardly 
 to a continual looking up to God. 
 
 The saving agency of Christianity cannot be taken into view, 
 on the one hand, without perceiving on the other the injurious 
 effects of sin. Its working is everywhere manifest in an in- 
 creasing weakness of the felt power of the presence of God in 
 the inner life. Life loses him from the eye and from the 
 heart ; in the place of desire after Him, and communion with 
 Him, come indifference, disinclination, and even positive repug- 
 nance. In the individual man, the Scriptures call this prevail- 
 ing disposition, which is caused by sin, flesh ; in entire human 
 life, the world? 1 Between the flesh and the world, and Chris- 
 tianity, there can be no other relation than that of enduring, 
 inappeasable conflict. 
 
 When man feels in his life the operation and power of sin, 
 and recognises in the life of Jesus the holy sinless power of 
 love, which can and will free him from his sin, there arises a 
 joyful movement and confidence in his soul, or that spiritual 
 susceptibility and strength which appropriates the saving effi- 
 ciency of the Lord, embraces it, and holds it fast with entire 
 heartiness. The Scriptures call this hearty joining one's-self to 
 the Lord, and laying hold of His salvation with all the strength 
 and fidelity of the mind, Faith ; and Jesus and His apostles re- 
 
 36 Matt. xxii. 2. sq. ; Mark x. 22 ; Rom. i. 18, xiv. 23, xvii. 14. sq. ; 
 Ps. xiv. 1 ; Heb. xi. 6, etc. 
 
 37 Gal. v. 17, 19 ; 1 John ii. 16 ; Rom. viii. 4, 12, 13 ; 2 Cor. x. 2 ; 
 John vii. 7, xii. 31, xiv. 17 ; 1 John iii. 1, 13 ; Eph. ii. 2 ; Phil. ii. 15, 
 etc. 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 225 
 
 quire and designate faith as the sole ground of all true recovery 
 and blessedness 38 on the side of man. 
 
 On the side of God, love is represented as the sole ground of 
 His blessing men, and, accordingly, occupies the highest position 
 and dignity in the Christian system, 39 and is viewed as the chief 
 cause which moves God to render His mortal creatures capable 
 of enjoying with Him eternal life. For this mystery of the 
 decree made by God from all eternity of creating a world in 
 order to fill it with the reflection of His glory and the life of His 
 love, has become most plainly manifest to the world in the mis- 
 sion of Jesus. 40 And if, as we before remarked, there proceeds 
 from the conception of saving efficiency, a distinct reference to 
 the conception of faith, in this conception is expressed, not less 
 clearly and eminently, the highest and mightiest thing in Chris- 
 tianity, namely, love ; since all life, even that of brutes, in all 
 acts of salvation, feels immediately this compassionating love. 41 
 But the divine love desires to prove itself of saving efficiency, 
 not merely to single men or nations, but to the whole of life, 
 because, as the divine, it is the all-embracing. It desires that 
 assistance be rendered to all, 42 and that all come to the know- 
 ledge of the truth and to blessedness in God. It wishes to 
 rouse every individual, and the entire human life, from resig- 
 nation to wickedness, and to unite it in the consciousness of 
 adoption with the Father in heaven. 43 
 
 38 Matt. xvii. 20 ; Mark ix. 23, x. 52 ; Luke vii. 50 ; John iii. 16, xx. 
 29 ; 1 John v. 4 ; Rom. iii. 28, iv. 3, 5 ; Gal. iii. 23. sq. ; Heb. xi. 1, etc. 
 
 39 Mark xii. 30 ; John iii. 16 ; 1 John iv. 9, 10 ; Rom. v. 8, viii. 32, 
 xiii. 8 ; 1 Cor. xiii. 13. 
 
 40 Rom. xvi. 23, 26 ; Eph. i. 9, 10, iii. 3, sq. ; Col. i. 16, 26, sq. ; 1 Tim. 
 iii. 16, etc. 
 
 41 It was from this side, as merciful love, that heathenism was first im- 
 pressed by Christianity (Neander's Church History, i. p. 425) ; and the 
 Church fathers and Reformers had this characteristic trait in view, when they 
 represented Christ Himself as the Samaritan in the parable, Luke x. 30, sg 
 
 42 1 Tim. ii. 4 ; 2 Pet. iii. 9. 
 
 43 Matt. v. 45 ; Luke xv. 4 ; Mark xvi. 15 ; Acts i. 8 ; Gal. iii. 26, iv. 
 5-7; 1 John iii. 1. 
 
 15 
 
226 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 And thus then, the work of a love, which has for its object 
 and effect such a salvation, is represented as the work of redemp- 
 tion and propitiation, 44 of liberation from the depressing, cor- 
 rupting power of sin, and of elevation to God's blessed favour 
 and grace. Propitiation, or the bringing back of life into the 
 love of Grod, is the pinnacle of all true religion and piety, and 
 the culmination of the saving work of the Redeemer. 
 
 If here, on the one hand, is disclosed to us the sense of the 
 words freedom and peace, 40 words by which the Redeemer de- 
 signates His gifts, and the intimate relation of theseconceptions 
 to the fundamental conception of the savingly efficient, this, on 
 the other-hand, gives to our mental eye that direction in which 
 we can plainly discern the constant progress from the Creation 
 to the Redemption, and can understand the latter to be the com- 
 pletion and crown of the former. 46 For the power which works 
 in the world of personal beings, in the form of saving love, is 
 nothing at all but a testimony of the same divine power, which 
 makes itself known in the purely physical territory as omnipo- 
 tence, and will not suffer that which it has created to perish. 47 
 
 In no time and place in human life has this will left itself 
 entirely without a witness 48 of the divine goodness, but has 
 everywhere, and in manifold ways, laboured to awaken the de- 
 sire of men, and to guide it to the eternal. These labours 
 could not, from the nature of their origin, be wholly without 
 success ; but since the divine operations on human souls are 
 never compulsory or irresistible, 49 these successes could not be 
 
 44 Matt. xx. 28 ; Markx. 45 ; Eph. i. 14 : Col. i. 14 ; Gal. iii. 13 ; Rom. 
 iii. 24 ; Tit, ii. 14 ; 2 Cor. v. 18-21 ; 1 John ii. 2, etc. 
 
 45 John yiii. 37, xiv. 27 ; 2 Cor. iii. 17 ; Eom. v. 1, viii. 21. Cf. Euseb. 
 Praep. Ev. 1. p. 10, 5. 179 (ed. Tig.). 
 
 46 John i. 2-4 ; Col. i. 16, 17 ; Heb. i. 2, etc. Of modern theologians, 
 Nitzsch especially, has shown the close connection between redemption and 
 creation. — System of Christian Doctrine, Edinburgh 1849. 
 
 47 Ps. cxlv. 15, 16 (Wisdom xi. 22, sq.). 
 
 48 Acts xiv. 15, xvii. 27 ; Rom. i. 19. 
 
 49 John vi. 64, 66 ; viii. 37, sq. ; Luke xiii. 34, etc. 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 227 
 
 universal, but only isolated ones, interrupted by unaffected in- 
 tervals. And so, if those testimonies for God in human life, re- 
 maining confined to this, had lacked the chief property of life, 
 namely, the continual progress of self-development from within 
 outwards ; they would only here and there, shining out, and 
 then disappearing like brilliant meteors, have flashed through 
 the night of godlessness on earth. 
 
 Now, that in Christianity the divine has made itself known 
 in a manner entirely different from this, and that Christianity is 
 thereby essentially different from all other and earlier divine 
 revelations, the expression c savingly efficient,' renders clearly 
 prominent. For, as the first half reminds us of the existence of 
 something evil, which Christianity has to counteract, so the 
 second half intimates the inadequacy of all unchristian and non- 
 christian aimings at salvation, and characterizes the Christian 
 redemption of life as a universal and real one, 50 in contrast to 
 one which is brought about only here and there, or merely in 
 the bloom of life, i.e., in the idea. 
 
 Sin has manifestly a life and a history ; 51 it has taken and 
 is taking place; it has passed from thought into action, from 
 the will into the accomplishment ; it is still ever shaping itself 
 out from the idea into reality, and every one of its realizations 
 goes on producing misdeeds. Accordingly, there would be 
 little or nothing accomplished against sin, if life, instead of its 
 organic connection, had only single tendencies, strong indeed, 
 but unconnected towards the external ; or, if piety stood merely 
 as an idea, like a fixed star, above the movements of sinful life 
 on earth. No ! that which will really take away the power 
 and dominion of sin, must meet it in its own sphere and in a 
 nature not more unsubstantial than its own, therefore in 
 reality and life. Only then is Christianity a match for sin ; 
 when the former, as the latter, has its occurrence in and of 
 
 50 John i. 16, 17, iv. 23, 24, xiv. 6 ; 1 John ii. 21, iii. 19 ; 2 Thess. ii. 
 13 ; 1 Tim. ii. 7 ; Heb. x. 26, etc. 
 
 51 Gen. iii. 6 ; Horn. v. 12, sq. ; James i. 14, 15. 
 
22S THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 itself ; only then can its piety penetrate life, when this itself 
 has penetrated to life/ 2 and has brought itself forth as such 
 into the world. 
 
 ' And the Word became flesh/ says the Evangelist, 53 ' and 
 dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the 
 only begotten Son of the Father, full of grace and truth.' — Yes, 
 this is the most significant and peculiar point in Christianity ; 
 that it is not merely an idea, but throughout life, deed, power, 
 and history ; 54: that its divinely filled life knows nothing of that 
 sighing and running up and down by the gulf, which, to the 
 captive in sin, divides the other side from this side, the think- 
 ing of the good from the doing thereof. 
 
 Now, as human life in the history of sin, shows a continual 
 departure from God, so in the life of Christ it shows a con- 
 tinual attraction towards Him ; 55 as the origin of the history of 
 sin is connected with an act, so in the history of redemption 
 this is not less the case. The active life of the Redeemer 
 becomes, in the richest sense of the word, an accomplished work 
 of redemption by the act of His death ; 56 for now, first in 
 opposition to that constant withdrawing of the life of sin from 
 God, is perfectly manifested the constant nearness to God of 
 the love of Christ ; and the holy inspiring power of this life 
 and death lies especially in this, that in them the love of man 
 to God is as much revealed and illustrated, as the love of the 
 Godhead to men. 57 
 
 52 1 John iii. 14 ; James ii. 20, sq. The practical views of Christianity 
 of James agree much more harmoniously with the speculative views of 
 John and Paul, than many theologians suppose. James does not demand 
 works, in opposition to Paul, who insists on faith ; he only gives directions 
 to distinguish the living faith of the heart from the dead faith of the intellect, 
 Matt. vii. 16 ; 1 Cor. iv. 20 ; 2 Tim. iii. 5. CI Neander Apost. K. G. S. 
 449, ft. 
 
 53 John i. 14 ; 1 John i. 1-3. 
 
 54 Acts ii. 22 ; Kom. i. 16 '; 1 Cor. i. 23, 24 ; 2 Tim. i. 7-10 ; James 
 ii. 26. 
 
 55 John x. 30, xiv. 10, xvii. 21, etc. 
 
 66 John xix. 30 ; Luke xxiii. 46. 57 John xv. 13 ; Eom. v. 8, sq. 
 
DEFINITION OF THE CHRISTIAN ELEMENT. 229 
 
 The power which embodies itself in act, works and goes 
 forth from it again ; the work breathes out the spirit which 
 created it. 58 Inspiration flowed from the divinely .animated 
 life of Christ; the spirit of the Lord pervaded the witnesses of 
 His death and resurrection ; the Spirit of the Lord wafted from 
 them the sleeping germs of the divine in-dwelling into the souls 
 of men, and they bloomed up into a kingdom of heaven on 
 earth, 59 to a common life of love, faith, and hope, 60 which 
 overcomes death, because it is born of God, and is therefore 
 the true eternal life. 61 And as the Spirit of God is designated 
 the Author of the life of Christ, so He proves Himself also the 
 animating power, which effects spiritual regeneration in the 
 carnal life of man, 62 and in the history of the world produces 
 the history of the Church, — the advancing growth of a church 
 of God among men, preserving the saving efficiency within it. 63 
 
 If now the one conception of saving efficiency unfolds in 
 this way, as we have seen, all the principal ideas of the Bible, 
 we can hardly doubt that we have in this conception appre- 
 hended the essential and characteristic element of Christianity. 
 
 And, finally, it contributes not a little to the confirmation 
 of this view, that we thus obtain, without seeking it, an under- 
 standing of the essentials of Judaism and Heathenism. If, 
 namely, the Christian element has been made known to us as 
 that which has saving efficacy, the Jewish is immediately pre- 
 sented as that expecting salvation, the heathen as inventing 
 salvation ; and to whom is it not evident that the characteristic 
 features of the two forms of religious life are thus adequately 
 designated? The expectation of salvation, life in faith and 
 hope, has been, and remains from Abraham to our days, the 
 
 58 John xv. 26, 27, xvi. 7, sq., xx. 22, 23 ; Acts ii. 4. 
 
 59 Matt. xiii. 24, xxii. 2, 9 ; Luke xvii. 20, 21 ; 1 Cor. iv. 20. 
 
 60 Acts ii. 44 ; Gal. iii. 28 ; Eph. iv. 5 ; 1 John iv. 7. 
 ei John i. 13, iii. 6, v. 24, vi. 47 ; 1 John v. 4, 12, etc. 
 
 62 Luke i. 35 ; John iii. 5 ; Tit. iii. 5, 6. 
 
 63 Acts ii. 47, iv. 4, v. 14, xiv. 1 ; 1 Cor. xv. 24 ; Rev. xi. 15, xix. 
 4,6. 
 
230 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 soul and the fundamental direction of Judaism. 64 And the 
 seeking of satisfaction in devising salvation, because the real 
 divinely bestowed salvation was wanting, — this moves as the 
 chief element of heathenism, evidently from gross Fetichism, 
 on through all forms of heathen symbolism, plasticism, and 
 liturgicism, even up into the ethereal regions of intellectual 
 idol-worship, in which, instead of the God who made the 
 heaven and earth, that imaginary deity is adored, which the 
 mind itself weaves out of its own vapoury ideas. 
 
 64 Gen. xv. 5, sq., xvii. 2 ; Luke ii. 25, etc. 
 
THAT WHICH iS CHRISTIAN IN PLATO AND HIS PHILOSOPHY. 231 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THAT WHICH IS CLEARLY CHRISTIAN IN PLATO AND HIS PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 If now we have in this manner recognized the Christian ele- 
 ment in itself, the Christian element in Plato and his philo- 
 sophy cannot long remain concealed from us. We need no 
 longer to seek it here and there, or compose it laboriously from 
 single perceptions ; rather, so soon as we turn from the know- 
 ledge obtained of what is Christian to the Platonic philosophy, 
 is it from the wdiole of this immediately evident to ns. And 
 thus, it is a living insight to wdrich we now attain, since the 
 subject itself produces it and calls it forth in us, and it pro- 
 ceeds not from abstract thinking ivithin us, but from the fresh 
 impression of the subject upon us. 
 
 Salvation, we saw, or redemption and godliness of human 
 life is the sublime work and aim of Christianity, and this sal- 
 vation is also unmistakeably the inspiring thought and object 
 of the Platonic philosophy. 
 
 The Christian element in Plato and in Platonism presents 
 itself therefore in the conception of a saving purpose} 
 
 With the apprehension of this idea we have attained the 
 goal of our inquiry ; and that thus we have arrived at an 
 entirely different stage of knowledge of the Platonic Chris- 
 
 1 The frequent occurrence in Plato of the words Saviour, Salvation, etc., 
 and in an ethical sense, is a kind of testimony for the correctness of the 
 above view. The condition of eternal life, Phaed. 107. c. [i. p. 116]. 
 Cf. Tim. 88. b. [ii. p. 404]. The chief striving of mankind, Gorg. 512. 
 [i. p. 215].— Tim. 86. c. 87. b. [ii. pp. 402, 3]. Ale. 1. 126. a. [iv. p. 
 852]. Rep. 3, 409. d. 4, 426. 10, 608. e. [ii. pp. 92, 109, 299]. Theaet. 
 170. b. [i. p. 404]. Legg. 3, 689. e. 4. 715. d. [v. pp. 99, 139]. 
 
232 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 tianity from that in the first part of our examination, does not 
 need to be discussed or proved. For what was then mere 
 opinion, has now been raised to real knowledge, — what was 
 then a matter of feeling and first impression, rests here on well- 
 founded cognition : the indefinite general acceptance that there 
 is something Christian in Plato has changed into the definite 
 perception of what this is, and wherein it properly consists, and 
 instead of the long series of particulars over which the eye 
 hovered, inquiring which among them would most express the 
 Christian element, we have now a single conception before us, 
 which, in itself, comprises and expresses the whole fulness of 
 that which is Christian in Plato. 
 
 But is this last really the case ? Is the idea expressed 
 really the most striking and most comprehensive ? Is it really 
 that which designates most correctly the Christianity of Plato ? 
 Does it really possess, as is maintained, all the Christian points 
 and tendencies in one general view ? — this needs still a special 
 explanation and corroboration. This, however, will be neither 
 difficult nor prolix. For to place beyond doubt the correctness 
 and exhaustiveness of the conception we have found, we need 
 only take the same course with reference to it, as we observed 
 with regard to the main idea of the previous chapter. If we 
 allow to the conception of saving purpose a development as 
 various as possible of all its contents, it will be clearly seen, 
 both that it contains all that is essential to Platonism in a 
 religious view, and also that this all stands in the closest relation 
 to what is essential in Christianity. At the same time, such a 
 development will also serve perfectly to explain and justify our 
 course of procedure in the second main division of our exami- 
 nation. It will now be recognized as a really genetic one. 
 Por the subsequent discussion can appear to the attentive gaze 
 only as the fruit of previous considerations ; and it is not so 
 much new perceptions and disclosures which it affords, as 
 rather an organically arranged composition of those which 
 were before perceived singly and at intervals. At almost every 
 
THAT WHICH IS CHRISTIAN IN PLATO AND HIS PHILOSOPHY. 233 
 
 step that we have taken forwards, we have seen more or less 
 plainly one of the Christian sides and properties of Platonism, 
 which now stand before ns collected into a single view. So the 
 student of nature finds, in the lower orders of animals, all the 
 organs singly distributed, as it were, and one after another 
 pre-eminently developed, but discovers them all again most 
 beautifully united in the human form. 
 
 The conception of saving purpose intimates, in the first place, 
 the teleological element, which is quite peculiar to Platonism as 
 well as to Christianity. Platonism is, as we have perceived, of 
 a thoroughly teleological character. Plato was most fond of 
 regarding the phenomena of the world from the teleological 
 point of view ; his thoughts, for the most part, take at once 
 a teleological direction, the ideas of object and purpose hovered 
 in all his inquiries continually before his soul ; whence also, as 
 we remarked in the second chapter, he possessed, as an author, 
 that rare and truly Christian quality of purity in his productivity, 
 and that severe deportment of mind which does not allow itself 
 to be turned from the direction once taken by the lively 
 thronging in of new thoughts and interests. This intense teleo- 
 logical character of his philosophizing expresses itself also, as we 
 saw, with sufficient plainness in its external form; we have already 
 above recognized the dialogal form of the Platonic philosophy as 
 a product of its dialectic and teleological spirit (p. 175). 
 
 From the teleological spirit in Platonism, as in the Bible, 2 
 spring its sublimity and nobleness, and, above all, its dignified 
 piety. For noble and sublime must be (and thus make itself 
 known also in his wri tings) his view of the universe, who, look- 
 ing beyond the movements of things in the fore-ground, seeks 
 and finds on the distant horizon the points towards which their 
 inner nature bids them strive^ and who, however widely the 
 various directions of the different forces may seem to diverge 
 from each other, endeavours to keep firmly in view the one goal, 
 at which they all finally meet (see above p. 170). This it is 
 
 2 Ps. civ. ; Job xxxviii. 1, sq. ; Isa. xl. 12, etc. 
 
A 
 
 234 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 which renders the Platonic philosophy especially worthy to be 
 honoured as Christian, that it does not become a barrier to the 
 author, and hide from him that which lies beyond and above it, 
 his knowledge and will go out beyond the world of thoughts, his 
 God is greater than his philosophy. 3 The thought of subordi- 
 nation (which w~e have observed in several relations at different 
 points in this examination), is the fundamental thought of his 
 Ethics and of his ethical consideration of the world, and that 
 which determines the subordinate or co-ordinate relations of 
 things to each other, is their relation to God, their greater or 
 less nearness to Him, their being more or less moved by Him. 
 
 The teleological element in Platonism borders immediately, 
 as is evident, on the theological element, the one even passes 
 over into the other, this is transformed into that, and vice versa, 
 as may be said also of the teleological element in Christianity. 
 The idea of a purpose includes that of a will which has the pur- 
 pose. Now, Plato's inquiring mind being directed to the know- 
 ledge, not merely of single ends in the life of nature and of 
 man, but also of the final object towards which the great whole 
 is striving, he is necessarily led to the perception of the will, 
 which embraces this whole, and which has formed it for, and is 
 conducting it to, that final object. 4 
 
 This will cannot be an unconscious or foolish one; for 
 foolish or unconscious willing consists just in this, that it has no 
 specific object, and does not know what it wills. In the plan of 
 nature and the final object of the whole is accordingly revealed 
 to Plato the wisdom of the will which must be conceived as the 
 originator of these purposes. And, if the cause of the universal 
 plan be first recognized as wisdom, it must also be conceived of 
 as power and goodness, for the absolutely immovable can never 
 be an end in the true sense of the word ; and wisdom, as such, is 
 the consciousness of the alone true and good, and would not be 
 
 3 (1 John iii. 20). Eep. 6, 506. e. 508. b. [ii. pp. 195, 197]. 
 
 4 Tim. 30. b. [ii. p. 334]. Legg. 10, 904 [v. p. 441-2]. 
 
 5 Phil. 28. c. [ir. p. 38]. Legg. 10, 902. e. [v. p. 439]. 
 
THAT WHICH IS CHRISTIAN IN PLATO AND HIS PHILOSOPHY. 235 
 
 wisdom if it willed that which it does will in and with the 
 world, for any other reason than because it has recognized the 
 same to be the very best possible. 
 
 Here then is the point at which the intimate relation of the 
 Platonic doctrine of God to the Christian, which seemed in the 
 first part of our examination, to be a mere apparent resemblance, 
 becomes truly manifest to us ; here is the point, whose existence 
 we could only just touch upon above (p, 32 sq.) where opens 
 almost the same prospect and insight into the world's history to 
 the Platonic view as to the Christian ; to both the world's his- 
 tory presents itself as the totality of movements which aim at 
 one sacred final object determined by God. 6 
 
 By its striving after salvation as an end, the Platonic philo- 
 sophy attaches itself consciously to the striving and struggling 
 of history, and wills to assist the latter, according to its ability, 
 in the attainment of its great end. Looking out on this, the 
 Platonic philosophy makes its highest and first object the salva- 
 tion of human life, the elevation of this to its God-like spiritual 
 dignity, wishing to render life capable of recognizing itself in its 
 true character, of perceiving itself to be a part of the great 
 whole, and of rendering to this whole that which it owes to it.' 
 And apprehended from this side, the Platonic philosophy is seen 
 to be an entirely peculiar, indeed, almost single phenomenon of 
 its kind in history. For it is almost the only one, which, with 
 so genuine a scientific character and bearing, has such a genuine 
 religious conception of its nature and vocation, and has formed 
 itself so worthily in accordance with this conception. After 
 Aristotle philosophy cherished (as we saw above) a wholly 
 different consciousness of what it is and should be, which has 
 remained, on the whole, pretty much the same to our day. 
 Since then it has separated from it more or less, all that does 
 not immediately appertain to abstract thinking, and has obtained 
 a more distinct conception of its 'purely scientific spirit and aim. 
 And since, soon after Christianity appeared in the world with 
 6 Legg. 10, 894. b. [v. p. 421]. 7 Legg. 10, 903. b. [v. p. 440]. 
 
236 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 the vocation to obtain that object for which Plato strove, it has 
 not again been possible for philosophy to attribute that signifi- 
 cance to its permanence, which Plato had given or allowed to it. 
 New Platonism did indeed strive after it with great effort, and 
 not without momentary success. But though it has a striving 
 after an ethico-relio-ious worlcl-siomifieance in common with 
 
 Jo o 
 
 Platonism, it yet stands far behind this, in respect to truly 
 scientific value, as was clearly seen above. And even Pytha- 
 gorism manifestly does not in this equal Platonism, which it 
 preceded in the tendency towards salvation. 
 
 The teleological character of the Platonic way of thinking, 
 having now introduced us into the fundamental thought of his 
 theology, and shown us that his thought of the highest wisdom 
 necessarily comprehends within it the ideas of the highest power 
 and goodness, and why it does so, we have thus seen the whole 
 place of birth and nurture of his theory of salvation, and we can 
 now perfectly understand why he ascribes and confides to philo- 
 sophy the knowledge of the true, or the power and significance 
 of a saviour ; namely, because, as we have just perceived, the 
 divine wisdom appeared to him from his teleological point of 
 view to be inseparably one with the power, which wills and 
 realizes the good in history. And the power which the heavenly 
 original possesses cannot, according to his conviction, be wanting 
 to the copy on earth, for there is only one true wisdom ; and the 
 divine wisdom does not change its intrinsic nature by entering 
 into human life, and thus expressing itself in humanly con- 
 ditioned thought and knowledge. What the heavenly wisdom, 
 which pervades the universe, can do in the great, that the 
 human wisdom, which embraces the whole of human life, can 
 and must accomplish in the little. We can now also, at this 
 point, from one principal conception of a saving purpose, see 
 all the Christian doctrines and views of Plato unfold themselves 
 in natural sequence. 
 
 If, namely, we look for the starting-point of the tendency of 
 Platonism to salvation, we find this in its Christian view of the 
 
THAT WHICH IS CHRISTIAN IN PLATO AND HIS PHILOSOPHY. 237 
 
 corrupt condition of the world and of humanity. If we ask after 
 the means by which Plato thinks to attain his sublime object, or 
 the ways in which he proposes to oppose and overcome the de- 
 pravity, we find these to proceed from the thoughts of God, 
 which support and condition his whole philosophy, and which, 
 we cannot deny, display many coincidences with these of 
 Christianity. If, finally, we take more closely into view, the 
 object of that tendency, the purposed salvation itself, then, as in 
 the salvation of Christianity, we find redemption and atonement, 
 or freedom and divine in-dwelling to be its essential parts ; and 
 we behold an enthusiastic confidence in the victorious might of 
 the good and divine in earthly life, which testifies, in the 
 strongest manner, to Plato's faith in the existence of Christ and 
 His agency in the history of the world. 
 
 1. At the foundation of the saving purpose which the 
 Platonic philosophy bears unmistakeably within it, evidently lies 
 the view of the necessity of salvation to life, and of the existence 
 and power of evil in it. Plato's gaze, undeceived by the serene 
 exterior of life, penetrated to its heart ; 8 his mind measured life 
 by other rules than those of the common judgment of the 
 world, for his recognition of the depraved character of life pre- 
 supposes an ethico-religious consideration of life, and a lofty 
 conception of its capacities and destination, since the conception 
 of depravity is of theological origin and contents, and can be de- 
 veloped only from the consciousness of that which God wills in 
 and with life, and which life is and accomplishes in this relation. 
 
 Now, if the perception of depravity and its destructive 
 power and magnitude cannot be other than painful and dis- 
 turbing to him, who is consciously impressed by the thought of 
 the heavenly dignity and destination of life, we can understand 
 in its true ground and bearing, the earnest sadness, spoken of 
 before (p. 77), which is found in the Platonic as in the Chris- 
 tian consideration of the world. This mournful earnestness 
 forms a characteristic trait of Plato's philosophy and view 
 
 8 Ale. 1. 132. a. [iv. p. 364]. 
 
238 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 of the world, by which, however truly it may in other respects 
 be a genuine product of the Hellenic mind, it is distinguished 
 essentially from the predominant worldliness of the Hellenic dis- 
 position. Plato, like Christianity, views depravity as existing 
 not merely sporadically and only superficially; he recognizes 
 rather its universal spread and dominion among men, and that 
 it has penetrated and rooted itself in their deepest heart. He 
 was almost the first of the heathen philosophers who found sin, 
 not merely in the porch, but in the sanctuary of the inner life, 
 and suspected in the passions, more than mere passivity, viz., 
 acts of the soul. To him therefore the presence of wickedness 
 was disclosed in places where, on account of its momentary im- 
 pression, it remained hidden from the ordinary gaze, and for 
 this reason was supposed not to exist. Hence Schleiermacher 
 rightly designates that as one of Plato's most Christian remarks, 
 that the bad, which so often lies unknown and latent in our 
 souls, is not infrequently revealed in dreams. If now, as may 
 be judged from this, the biblical conception of the Flesh is one 
 not foreign and unknown to Plato, 9 his attention to the general 
 deportment of life towards the eternal and divine, conducts him 
 likewise to the scriptural conception of the ivorld. He does in- 
 deed portray exactly the low sensuous character of the great 
 multitude, 10 which asks not after God, 11 and only to appearance, 
 either as directly hypocritical, or as self-deceiving, sometimes 
 takes the part of piety, but immediately contends against it with 
 violent repugnance, whenever, instead of a mere external ap- 
 purtenance to life, it would become a true inward earnestness. 12 
 He portrays severely and strikingly that universal hurry in 
 pressing towards earthly pomp and pleasure, that complete re- 
 signation of the undiscriminating many to the restless stream of 
 
 9 Cf. Legg. 1, 644. e. [v. p. 32-3], with Eom. vii. 15, sq. ; Gal. v. 17, 
 etc. 
 
 io Gorg. 492. a. [i. p. 190]. Cf. Rep. 2, 365. c. 6, 492. b. 8, 560. d. 
 [ii. pp. 44-5, 180, 250]. 
 
 11 Cf. Rep. 8, 555. c. [ii. p. 245], with Matt. v. 24 ; Luke xvi. 13. 
 
 12 Apol. 35. d. 39. c. Theaet. 177. a. [i. pp. 23, 27, 412]. 
 
THAT WHICH IS CHRISTIAN IN PLATO AND HIS PHILOSOPHY. 239 
 
 fleeting appearances, images and feelings, 13 that proud self-satis- 
 faction of the prevalent way of thinking, which does not wish 
 to he disturbed in its sweet composure, nor to he enlightened 
 by significant monitions of the eternal and sacred, 14 — which 
 struggles against the unpleasant truth, like naughty children 
 against bitter medicine, 15 and hangs with passionate love on 
 all, which flatteringly heightens the sensuous feeling of life. 16 
 
 And thus we have clearly evinced from the heart of the 
 Platonic philosophy, what above (p. 57) could only be con- 
 cluded as highly probable from the juxtaposition of single ex- 
 pressions, viz., that this philosophy is more Christian in its 
 doctrine of the nature and operation of sin, than any other of 
 the ancient world. For the evil, at the removal of which it aims, 
 proceeds, according to its view, from nothing else than sin. 
 And by sin it, no more than Christianity, understands that 
 which the world means by it, the single act, or so-called 
 immorality in its grossly hateful form, but here, as everywhere 
 else, it penetrates to the centre, and brings to light as the true 
 nature of sin the false and empty nullity, which knows how to 
 clothe itself in the deceptive appearance of the True and 
 Beautiful, and thus causes that which is really good to be 
 neglected or mistaken. 17 
 
 Christianity also designates this lie, this captivating and 
 corrupting false representation, as one of the most characteris- 
 tic, and at the same time most dangerous parts of sin. It is one 
 of the most important, yet ever ignored truths, which Plato has, 
 in common with Christianity, only otherwise expressed, that the 
 devil can transform himself into an angel of light, and that he 
 is a liar from the beginning, and the father of lies. 2 Cor. xi. 
 
 13 Rep. 8, 560. e. 561. d. [ii. p. 251]. 
 
 14 Apol. 30. e. [i. p. 17]. Cf. Actsxxiv. 25. 
 
 15 Gorg. 521 e. [i. p. 226]. Cf. Rep. iv. 426, a, b. [ii. p. 109], 
 
 16 Gorg. 463. a. sq. 464.C. d. [i. p. 135-7]. 
 
 17 Soph. 228. b, c. [iii. p. 122]. See especially also Rep. 5, 479, c, d. 
 7, 515. b. etc. [ii. pp. 167, 203]. 
 
240 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 14 ; John viii. 44. 18 Only by lying does the evil obtain power 
 over men, by appearing like the true and good. Did the 
 irrational and disgraceful present themselves in their true form, 
 no one would believe in the former, or allow himself to be led 
 astray by the latter. But sin knows how to imitate the lan- 
 guage of reason, and makes so innocent and amiable an 
 appearance, that it is taken for virtue itself. On this rests its 
 extended dominion and imperishable existence in human life, 
 and therefore the bitter striving and contending which pervades 
 Platonism, against i whited sepulchres, and ravenous wolves in 
 sheep's clothing' (Matt. vii. 15, xxiii. 27) may be understood 
 in a Christian sense. Moreover, only the continued observation 
 of life can make this thought completely understood. We 
 must regard life attentively in all its relations, in order with 
 grief to perceive as universal, and making itself known in the 
 greatest as in the least things, the all-corrupting influence of 
 that which, in itself contemptible, can yet gain the general 
 favour more quickly than the solid and worthy. It is not 
 difficult to recognise what it is which procures for this mere 
 nullity everywhere such rapid esteem and favour. It is princi- 
 pally the indolence and grossness of the sensuous nature which 
 exists and is strong in every man; which feels itself most 
 appealed to and satisfied by that which is like it, and hence, in 
 the enjoyment of works of art, for example, prefers the de- 
 lectable to the truly beautiful ; because, to appreciate the for- 
 mer does not require an effort, but to do homage to the latter, 
 it must first go out of itself, and raise itself with earnestness and 
 perseverance to a higher intellectual elevation, which it either 
 may not or cannot do. And to him who understands this, it 
 will not be inexplicable, why, in the territory of religion, the 
 shallowest and narrowest views are commonly the most popular 
 and most widely diffused. 
 
 Platonism further here and there, like Christianity, appre- 
 hends sin from a theological point of view, and represents it as 
 is Cf. Phil. 40. c. [iv. p. 60], and Soph. 260. c. [iii. p. 172]. 
 
THAT WHICH IS CHRISTIAN IN PLATO AXD HIS PHILOSOPHY. 241 
 
 the life of the creature without God, and apart from Him. 19 
 The inclination to this lies, according to Plato's view, already 
 touched upon, in the creaturely life, as such ; 20 and the decided 
 manifestation of this disposition in real life, the actual going 
 astray from God, he regards as the continually, in the gross 
 and the detail, self-repeating theme of history. 21 The good is 
 everywhere to him the original and first, whence also in history 
 he believes in all earnest in an earlier and better condition of 
 life. All deterioration he traces to divergence and departure 
 from the good, and the dissolution of the original connection 
 with the same. And thus to him, as to the Biblical Christian, 
 the history of the world appears, on the one hand, as the history 
 of apostasy. 
 
 2. But, on the other hand, also as the history of return to 
 God, and of reunion with Him. 22 For as in the life of nature 
 and the material life of the world, at the extreme point of its 
 relative departure from God, there comes in a turning and. re- 
 newing of the original relation to Him, so, also, in the spiritual 
 life of man, the innate, and only for a period suppressed, ten- 
 dency must again break through, and obtain the upper hand. 
 In the life of nature, it is the inseparable bond of necessity 
 which effects this turning ; but human life follows the gentler 
 attraction of a lore, which comes from heaven and leads to 
 heaven. Pure holy love is the uniting and everlasting bond 
 of the higher world of spirit. 23 It is the mighty lever force of 
 
 19 Theaet. 176. a, b. [i. p. 411]. Eep. 589. e. 4, 441. b. Cf. Tim. 30. 
 a. [ii. pp. 280, 126, 334]. In these and similar passages is expressed the 
 biblical thought, ' Tour iniquities have separated between you and your 
 God,' Isa. lix. 2. Cf. Ale. 1. 134. c. [iv. p. 369]. 
 
 20 Tim. 86. d. sq. [ii. p. 402]. 
 
 21 Phaedr. 284, c. sq. [?]. Pol. 269. a. 273. b. [iii. pp. 210, 216]. 
 Legg. 10, 896. e. [v. p. 426]. Epin. 988. d. [yi. p. 29]. 
 
 22 Pol. 273. d. [iii. p. 217]. 
 
 23 Phaedr. 246. d. [i. p. 322]. Conv. 202. d. [iii. p. 533]. Cf. Milton, 
 
 Par. Lost. 5, 589— 
 
 Love is the scale 
 By which to heavenly love thou may'st ascend ! 
 
 15 
 
242 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 the fallen race, the blessed way to truth and life, the purifying 
 restorer of the erring and undeified soul to its eternal home. 
 In the form of perfect beauty, it appears everywhere in life as 
 the mediator between God and man, between the visible and 
 the invisible, between spirit and matter ; it wakes by its deeply 
 penetrating ray the .slumbering consciousness of the truly 
 existent and imperishable, and directs the fluctuating longing 
 of the heart that is moved to Him who alone can satisfy and 
 calm it, even to God, the highest good. 24 For this is the 
 motive principle of all love, — the 'desire of the good. 25 It is only 
 a base love which does not obtain a clear conception of the real 
 object after which it strives, and does not distinguish between 
 the higher and lower good. And so, by virtue of this in-born 
 attraction to the good, which allows no lasting peace to the 
 soul, which is penetrated by true love, except in the highest 
 good, love, according to the Platonic as the Christian doctrine, 
 is the most efficient power in the attainment of the salvation 
 aimed at ; for which reason also, in the latter as in the former, 
 it is accounted the greatest and highest among the heavenly 
 powers. 26 
 
 If now love is to become, in fact, the saving power in the 
 life of men, then, since love excludes all compulsion and force^ 
 life must be brought before all things to the consciousness of 
 its need of salvation, and thus to a willingness to be assisted 
 from its wretchedness. All 'which hinders the awakening of this 
 consciousness must be removed, and the way be cleared for 
 the recognition of the truth. So the Platonic philosophy, like 
 Christ, does not first bring peace into the world, but a sword. 27 ■ 
 It, like Christianity, is, on account of its saving purpose, of a 
 thoroughly polemic and uncompromising nature. It, like this, 
 
 24 Cf. Phil. 64. e. [iv.p. 105]. 
 
 25 Conv. 205. e. [iii. p. 540]. Cf. Rep, 6, 505. d, e.486. a. [ii. pp. 194, 
 174], Aristotle also held this view. Met. xii. 7. 
 
 26 Cf. Conv. 202. e. sq. [iii. p. 533-4], and Rep. 3, 403. c. [ii. p. 86]. 
 
 27 Matt, 10, 34. Cf. Legg. 1, 647. c. [v. p. 37]. 
 
THAT WHICH IS CHRISTIAN IN PLATO AND HIS PHILOSOPHY. 243 
 
 rises, as remarked above (p. 64), from inappeasable, irrecon- 
 cileable hatred of the blinding vanity of the world, which has 
 withdrawn from the alone true and sublime, and procured for 
 itself the love and reverence which are their due. It, like this, 
 contends not for its own, but for God's honour, and for His 
 kingdom on earth ; 28 and it does not conceal any more than this, 
 the long duration and difficulty of this contest, since it well 
 knows that it may fight only with spiritual weapons, and that 
 it can never obtain the victory merely from without, but only 
 where it succeeds in exciting in the heart a co-operation with 
 it, and for its ends, 29 which, from the glowing violence with 
 which the lusts of the flesh encompass the life of the soul, 30 
 results but rarely and after long labours. 
 
 On this account, however, it proceeds directly, like Chris- 
 tianity, to cast a firebrand into the soul, to terrify the inner 
 man from his security and repose, and to cause him to feel 
 deeply at some point with shame and confusion the nothingness 
 of that which he holds to be something. 31 This inward dis- 
 turbance and terror is a pleasing sign of the salvability of him 
 whom it fills ; yea, it is the first movement of the new life, thus 
 rendered capable of the new birth. 32 % Hence, like the Gospel, 
 it humbles the proud, and raises the lowly (Luke i. 51, sq., etc.) ; 
 fills the hungry with good things, and sends the rich empty 
 away; it meets with cutting severity the despisers of the 
 eternal, 33 but with a tender spirit points aright those who are 
 longing for salvation. 34 It knows that, for the recognition 
 
 28 Rep. 7, 519. c. [ii. p. 207]. Legg. 1, 631. d. 4, 713. e. sq. 9, 863. e. 
 sq. [v. pp. 12, 135, 370-1]. 
 
 29 Eep. 9, 589. b. Cf. 4, 442. a. [ii. pp. 280, 127]. Legg. 10, 906. a. 
 [v. p. 445]. 30 Cf. Theaet. 153. c. [i. p. 383]. See above, p. 161. 
 
 31 Apol. 21. c. 23. d, e. [i. pp. 7, 9, 10], etc. 
 
 32 Cf. supra, p. 131, n. 1, p. 162, and Soph. 230 [iii. p. 125]. Theaet. 
 168. a. [i. p. 401]. Cf. Conv. 209. b. [iii. p. 547]. 
 
 33 Theaet. 179. e. Prot. 316. d. Apol. 19. e. [i. pp. 415, 245, 5]. 
 Soph. 219. d. [iii. p. 107], etc. 
 
 34 Rep. 9, 589. c. [ii. p. 280]. Cf. Matt, xi. 21, sq., xxiii. 13, with xii. 
 19, 20. 
 
244 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 of the one thing needful, there is no greater hindrance than 
 the proud delusion : I am rich, and full, and need nothing. 35 
 Therefore it aims zealously to show to life its poverty, naked- 
 ness, and need, for which it is repaid, like Christianity, not 
 with thanks, but with hatred, bitterness, ridicule, and scorn. 36 
 It makes dependent on the deep- sorrow of true self-knowledge 
 the blessed perception of Divine truth, and the attainment of 
 the peace which the world cannot give. 37 It desires to open the 
 closed eyes of the mind, and to turn them from darkness to the 
 wonderful light which comes from above. 38 Like the Ke- 
 deemer, it would begin the saving work with the enlightenment 
 of the soul. But insight and knowledge is for the latter, as 
 for the former, not the absolutely highest and last object, but, 
 as we have already remarked, in a certain sense only a means 
 to the end, 39 and a guide to God ; for which reason also, in a 
 genuine Christian spirit, it sets little value on written, but great 
 value on oral instruction and immediate living influence (p. 117 
 n. 7). The light of knowledge must serve and glorify itself in 
 love alone. 
 
 But having received from above 40 the vocation and the 
 pow T er to spiritualize life, it must extend its influence to the 
 whole life, and strive to operate savingly on all its relations. 
 Its principal gaze must be directed to the state and the family, 
 or in general to the common life of men. For as the common 
 life is favourable to the impulse of good towards universal com- 
 munication and diffusion, so it promotes and facilitates also the 
 
 35 Rev. iii. 17 ; Luke v. 31, 32, etc. 
 
 36 Apol. 22. e. Gorg. 486. a. sq. [i. pp. 9, 183-4]. Rep. 6, 495. c. [ii. 
 p. 183]. 
 
 v Cf. supra, p. 172. Legg. 3, 689. d. [v. p. 99]. Of. Rep. 4, 431. e. 
 [ii. p. 115], and what is Christian peace, but the feeling of the harmony of 
 the inner lif e with God ? John xiv. 27, xvii. 23 ; Eph. ii. 14, etc. 
 
 38 Here we meet in Plato with the biblical" idea of conversion. Rep. 7, 
 532. b. 521. c. [ii. pp. 222, 211]. Cf. 2 Cor. iii. 16 ; 1 Thess. i. 9 ; Acts 
 xviii. 18. 
 
 39 See above, p. 101. Legg. 3, 689. c. [v. p. 99]. 
 
 40 Apol. 30. a. [i. p. 17]. 
 
THAT WHICH IS CHRISTIAN IN TLATO AND HIS THILOSOPHY. 245 
 
 rapid spread of evil, and secures to it a certain tenacious and 
 hardly conquerable existence and power. Only by a common 
 life filled with the spirit of the good, can the evil in life be 
 successfully attacked and combated ; only at the sources of its 
 growth and diffusion can the power of wickedness be funda- 
 mentally broken. 41 These sources are in Plato's view, 
 especially bad education, and bad political management. In 
 opposition to the latter, he proposes in his Republic the model 
 of a State founded in justice and guided by wisdom, and in 
 this makes care for the culture and education of youth a chief 
 concern of the rulers. 42 All that disturbs and weakens the 
 eternal vital spark in the unfolding life of youth, he would 
 keep far from it ; 43 all that tames and softens the brutish violence 
 of men, and subjects it to a higher will, he calls to aid in the 
 business of education ; and the fear of the Lord is for him the 
 beginning of wisdom, and the summit of all culture 44 (Prov. 
 ix. 10). ' 
 
 The Platonic philosophy, like the Gospel, strives also to 
 take evil at its roots ; like the Gospel, it places a large part of 
 its hope of the coming kingdom of heaven, in the children, 
 who are still susceptible to every influence (Mark x. 1 4) ; like 
 the Gospel, it will contend with and overcome carnal selfish- 
 ness, the mother of all unrighteousness, not merely by words 
 and thoughts, but in deed and reality, 45 even by the common 
 
 41 Rep. 6, 487. c. 492 d. [ii. p. 175-180]. Gorg. 518. a. 519. b. [I. 
 p. 222-3]. 
 
 42 Rep. 4, 423. e. [ii. p. 107]. Legg. 6, 7G6. a. [v. p. 215]. 
 
 43 Hence, also, he will not allow frequency of new games, new melodies, 
 charms, etc., that unsteadiness and love of novelty may not be implanted 
 in children ; for the true is in its nature simple and unchangeable, and a 
 vacillating temper is therefore incapable of apprehending it. Legg. 7, 797. 
 a. 798. b. [v. pp. 264, 266]. Rep. 4, 424. 6. b. 484. 6. [ii. pp. 107, 172]. 
 
 • 44 Rep. 2, 379. b. sq. [ii. p. 60]. Theaet. 176, 6. Gorg. 507. b. [i. 
 pp. 411, 210]. 
 
 45 Hence a certain community of goods in the State. Rep. 5, 462. c. 
 464. a. sq. [ii. pp. 147, 148-9]. Cf. Acts ii. 44 ; 1 Cor. x. 24, xii. 14, sq. ; 
 Rom. xii. 5, andCic. Leg. 1, 12. 
 
246 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 life in a righteous state ; and the opinion expressed above 
 (p. 65), of the resemblance between the Platonic Republic 
 and the biblical idea of the kingdom of God, is now shown to 
 be perfectly correct and well-founded. By the expression, 
 kingdom of God, the Bible designates, as we saw, a condition 
 of social life really elevated to its true welfare, and therewith 
 also to joyful willingness in all its relations to God ; and for 
 this manifestly strives also, as was shown to us above, the Pla- 
 tonic Republic. With the state, as a state, Plato has less to 
 do than with the formation of a human life, corresponding in 
 fact to the Divine idea, and by it moved and determined. 
 
 3. And that Platonism, with all its teachings and labours 
 for salvation, aimed at nothing less than a redemption of life — 
 of this the beautiful parable of the man in a cavern, which we 
 considered above (p. 41 sq.), affords the most unambiguous testi- 
 mony. As fettered and imprisoned, leading in profound dark- 
 ness a life devoted to delusion and deceptive appearance, Plato 
 by him represents mankind, and thus pronounces with sufficient 
 clearness the necessity of an unfettering, an elevation to the 
 light, and to life in freedom and truth. Not merely in poetic 
 style, as in this parable, but also in many other passages of his 
 writings, he designates directly and with precise words the re- 
 demption of men, the deliverance of their souls from error and 
 sin, their introduction into the world of the alone true and 
 good, as the final object and chief business of genuine philo- 
 sophy. 46 In view of this sublime end, death appears to him to 
 be the greatest benefactor of the spiritual life. For the re- 
 demption of the soul, according to his, as according to the 
 Christian view, can be, so long as we wander here below in 
 the body, only an inceptive and germinant, not a thoroughly 
 perfect one. But in death, all the carnal and sensuous bonds, 
 which ever draw the soul back into the pleasures and pains of 
 temporal existence, 47 fall entirely off ; now it follows undivid 
 
 46 Phaed. 83. a. 84. a, [i. pp. 86-7]. 
 
 47 Phaed. 66. b. sq. [i. p. 64]. 
 
THAT WHICH IS CHRISTIAN IN PLATO AND HIS PHILOSOPHY. 247 
 
 edly and unrestrictedly the impulse of its inmost being towards 
 the eternal and divine, presupposing (of course) that its long- 
 ing was thus directed during the bodily life. Consequently, 
 by death it attains to perfect and glorious freedom ; and thus the 
 biblical thought of a desire to die and to attain to the true life, is 
 seen to be also a principal thought of the Platonic philosophy. 48 
 
 The same severe moral earnestness, which in Christianity 
 makes redemption appear as man's most pressing need, is seen 
 also in the Platonic indication of its necessity. Without re- 
 demption, no happiness ! without inward union with God, no 
 time salvation, no eternal life ! 49 This stands fast in the Gospel, 
 and in Platonism ; to be carnally minded is death, is the de- 
 claration of the one no less than the other. 50 He in whom 
 the existent has never raised itself above the dissolving undula- 
 tions of carnal excitements to a permanent free substantiality, 
 has also no capability for an ascent into the eternal world of 
 the existent : his innermost being remains also after death in- 
 corporated in the restless cycle of the becoming, with which it 
 was indissolubly implicated in life. 51 
 
 From this it is evident what Plato means by redemption, or 
 rather, how he conceives this event in the life of the soul. He 
 thinks of it as a coming to ones-self, an apprehending of one's- 
 self as existent, as a severing of the inmost being from the 
 surrounding element, 02 as a separation of one's-self from the 
 changing mass of the world and life, as a concretization of the 
 original spiritual element in man to a divinely illuminated germ 
 of light and life, 
 
 4S 2 Cor. v. 8; Phil. i. 23. Phaed. 64, 6. [i. p. QZ]. Of. Crat,403. 
 d, e. [iii. p. 319]. Cic. Tusc. 1, 30, etc. 
 
 49 Jolin iii. 36 ; 1 John v. 12, etc. 
 
 50 Rom. viii. 5 ; Gal. vi. 8, etc. Phaed. 69. c. 81, c, d. [i. pp. 68, 84]. 
 Here belongs also the beautiful paraphrastic parallel to 1 John ii. 15-17. 
 Rep. 10, 608 [ii. p. 298]. 
 
 51 Tim. 92. c. [ii. p. 409]. Legg. 10, 904 [v. p. 442] . 
 
 52 Rep. 10, 611. e. [ii. p. 302]. Theaet. 168. a. [i. p. 401]. Cf. Legg. 
 5, 726. [v. p. 153]. Ale. 1. 130. a. [iv. p. 360]. 
 
248 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 It is included in the idea of Christian redemption, that it 
 cannot be accomplished in man by himself. Plato also was far 
 from believing that man is his own redeemer. He certainly 
 does not derive redemption from a divine person and love, but 
 yet from heavenly powers, which operate in and upon earthly 
 life ; and he also, like Christianity, teaches man to raise his 
 believing eye to a divinely instituted office of purification and 
 atonement. This office of spiritualization and atonement, of 
 uniting two worlds with each other, of elevating the earthly 
 life to heaven, of glorifying the temporal by the eternal, and 
 of connecting the human consciousness with the divine — is 
 conferred upon the eternal Ideas. They are the living sources 
 of salvation and happiness for men ; they are, according to 
 Plato's pious confidence, really the saviours of the world and 
 of life; 53 and here w r e stand at the point where we can first 
 truly recognise the high religious significance of the already 
 considered doctrine of Ideas. Almost the same effects which 
 Jesus exercises, as we saw above, by the pure ideality of his 
 being on that which is really essential in the inner life of man, 
 Plato expects from the Ideas. Their shining into the conscious- 
 ness is the dawning of day to the soul, and the seizing and ap- 
 prehending them is at the same time a raising one's-self to an 
 individual existence. Ever more vigorously do they release the 
 once awakened self in man ; ever more beautiful do they form 
 the mind which has intercourse with them, and do not allow it 
 to sink again into the depths of coarseness and of the unthink- 
 ing life of sensuousness. They form, by their inseparable com- 
 munion with each other, by their inner, living connection, so 
 to speak, that heavenly ladder, 54 on which one in a significant 
 dream saw the angels of God ascend and descend. Seized by 
 the Ideas, the clarified spirit mounts upwards from stage to 
 stage, till the highest and last conducts him to the perception 
 of the living Godhead. 55 For no pause is possible in the flight 
 
 ss Eep. 6, 500. c. [ii. p. 188]. 54 Eep. 6, 510, b. sq. [ii. p. 200]. 
 
 55 Eep. 6, 511. b. 490. b. [ii. pp. 201, 177]. 
 
THAT WHICH IS CHRISTIAN IN PLATO AND HIS PHILOSOPHY. 249 
 
 from idea to idea, until the One is arrived at, of whom and to 
 whom all is and lives. In the apprehension of the first idea, 
 nearest to the earthly life of the soul, is contained already the 
 calm necessity of continued movement to the second higher, a 
 dark element remaining in the recognition of the first, which 
 points to a higher sphere, in which it will be unfolded to per- 
 fect clearness ; just as, in the sphere of the sensuous, the earthly 
 mass is raised from stage to stage of development, until it has, 
 in an aesthetic light, attained the highest glorification of which 
 its dark weight is capable. 56 
 
 With the attainments of the percipient mind to the all- 
 disposing Godhead is reached the summit of redemption ; and 
 the consciousness of redemption passes over into that of atone- 
 ment, which beholds the world, in God, and therefore sees God 
 glorified in the world. 57 Atonement is the summit of the Pla- 
 tonic as of the Christian wisdom and knowledge. Reconcilia- 
 tion of antitheses, and their removal in a higher unity, com- 
 prehending both, is throughout the concern of the whole of 
 Platonism, both in its theoretical and practical parts ; and we 
 have already seen in Plato's serene irony a sure mark of a re- 
 conciling endeavour and a reconciled consciousness. At the 
 summit of the Platonic knowledge the mind is beyond the 
 dialectic movement in the circle of antitheses, and the wondrous 
 unity in the great whole of the world and life is becoming con- 
 tinually more clear to it. The war of antitheses is here reduced 
 to a beneficial interaction, and this balancing is not an extirpa- 
 tion or disabling of the contending forces (see above, p. 158), 
 but a comprehension and subordination of them to the highest 
 Might, and to its sacred objects. The highest power is that of 
 the good, which, as remarked already, eternally desires and 
 manifests its existence and nature only in the world of pheno- 
 mena. 58 The whole world, being its work, is a system of forces 
 
 56 Rep. 10, 616. b, c. Cf. Tim. 31. b. sq. [ii. pp. 307, 335]. 
 
 57 Rep. 7. 517. b, c. [ii. p. 205]. 
 
 58 Gorg. 467. a. [i. p. 159]. Tim. 29. e. 41. a, b. [ii. p. 333, 345]. 
 
250 THE SUBJECT DEVELCTED GENETICALLY. 
 
 and ends, which all require and aid each other, 59 and realize in 
 their collected activity no other than the Divine purpose. And 
 all sin, with all evil, is not in a condition to frustrate the attain- 
 ment of this purpose, or to disturb God's joy in His work. 00 
 For it is just the divine principle of his nature that he can 
 take up contradiction into his life, and can suffer and subdue 
 it. Hence every discord in the great whole of life has no 
 further effect than to produce a fuller sounding out of the 
 reconciling ground-tone, an increased vibration of the momen- 
 tarily restricted force. The world and life have been engaged 
 in conflict, but so also in victory ; and this the growing victory 
 of the good, the glorification of God in the kingdom of 
 creatures. 61 And thus the entire history of the world, as seen 
 from the throne of the Eternal, is nothing else than the 
 answered prayer for glorification by his light and love. 62 
 
 Plato would not have developed such a view of the world in 
 his philosophy, if it had not lived and ruled in his heart. If 
 we have, indeed, in the above presentation, rendered prominent 
 the Christian side of his teaching, we have at the same time 
 obtained also an insight into the Christian attitude of his mind. 
 The most Christian element, not in his philosophy, but in him- 
 self, in his heart, is faith in the coming of salvation, for which 
 he wished to prepare the way by his philosophy. He would not 
 have desired and purposed the salvation of life, if he had not 
 believed in the possibility of its attainment, if he had not 
 strongly and freshly anticipated its actual realization. He felt 
 in his soul the presence of Christ in history ; he saw in the 
 spirit, like Abraham, the day of the Lord; he felt himself 
 
 59 See above, p. 168. Cf. Tim. 30. c. sq. [ii. p. 334]. Phil. 54 .a. 
 [iv. p. 84]. So it must be in the microcosm, the State, as in the human 
 soul. See Rep. 4, 434. b. sq. [ii. p. 118], and the beautiful passage in 
 Legg. 12, 962. b. sq. [v. p. 535]. 
 
 60 Tim. 37. c. 92. c. [ii. pp. 340, 409]. Gen. i. 31 ; Ps. xvi. 11; 1 Tim. 
 vi. 15. 
 
 61 Legg. 10, 904. b. [v. p. 444]. Epin. 988. e. [vi. p. 29]. 
 
 62 Johnxvii. 5. 
 
THAT WHICH IS CHRISTIAN IN PLATO AND HIS PHILOSOPHY. 251 
 
 grounded and rooted with his whole mind in a divine power of 
 salvation existing invisibly in the world ; and this confidence in 
 the powerful interposition of the Eternal in the fulness of times, 
 was his star in the night, the source of his joyful enthusiasm, 
 and strength of soul. 63 And not merely without, in history, 
 but also in himself, in his own spiritual life, was he aware of 
 this presence and activity of the divine. It was because he felt 
 the redemptive power in himself, and a certain elevation to 
 God, that he undertook to raise and redeem the life without 
 him ; and firmly and heartily convinced of the practicability of 
 its redemption, he might almost, in this inward spiritual joyous- 
 ness, have said with John : -'This is the victory which over 
 cometh the world, even our faith !' (1 John v. 4.) Certain it 
 is, faith and love are not less the central forces of the Platonic 
 than of the Christian spiritual life. 64 
 
 63 The lofty, pure enthusiasm in Plato — forming an important point of 
 approximation of Platonism to Christianity — gives at the same time a suffi- 
 ficient proof of the correctness of the view above presented of the practical 
 religious side of his whole philosophy ; it shows that Plato did not propose 
 by his philosophy a mere theoretic perception of abstract truth, but to 
 penetrate and elevate life was its highest aim and endeavour. And so he 
 illustrates the saying of Pascal, that in Divine things one must love, in 
 order to know. — Pensees, p. 186, etc. 
 
 04 Love, in its noblest or truly Christian form, will hardly be refused to 
 Plato ; but objections may be raised to the strength and high estimate of 
 faith here attributed to him. He seems sometimes to esteem faith but 
 lightly. Eep. 5, 478. a. 7, 534. a. Tim. 51. c. [ii. pp. 165, 224, 357]. But 
 his faith is to be found not in word but in deed — in the character and ten- 
 dency of his mind — his confidence in and love for the divine. 
 
252 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 NON-CHRISTIAN AND UNCHRISTIAN ELEMENTS IN PLATO ; 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Plato could indeed aim at the salvation of life, but lie could 
 not effect it. A purer light, proceeding from the perception of 
 the Eternal and Beautiful, than that of the Platonic philosophy, 
 has not shone on the heathen world. But it was not granted 
 to it, to be itself the life. (John i. 4.) And the cross on 
 Golgotha ? though covered with ignominy, is yet a more glorious 
 and triumphant Theodicy, than the noble picture of the world 
 glorified by God which existed in the mind of the Grecian 
 sage. If we have clearly recognised the near relationship of 
 his philosophy to Christianity, we must, if our judgment of this 
 subject is to be a complete and final one, now bring into clear 
 consciousness that also which essentially separates the two, and 
 keeps them asunder. 
 
 Truly Christian, as we have seen, is the Platonic philosophy, 
 in its view of the world and in its endeavour ; truly pious and 
 Christian the believing disposition of its author, his joyful hope 
 in the coming of the Lord, and the future victory of the good 
 in the history of the world. But this does not prevent the ex- 
 istence also, together with this predominant Christian character 
 of the whole, of single non-Christian and even unchristian ele- 
 ments in Platonism. A circumstantial presentation of these 
 non-Christian and unchristian points does not lie within our 
 scope ; we shall content ourselves with a brief intimation of the 
 most important of them. 
 
NON-CHRISTIAK AND UNCHRISTIAN ELEMENTS IN TLATO. 2 Do 
 
 There have not been wanting, as already remarked, those 
 who dispute the Christianity of Plato. They have made it 
 their concern to set in a clear light, often in considerable detail, 
 whatever appeared to them to be unchristian in him and his 
 works, in doing which they have certainly very frequently been 
 led by then* prejudices and passions to wrong views and repre- 
 sentations. Among these opponents of Plato's Christianity 
 may be named as chief, besides the church-fathers mentioned 
 above, B. Crispus, Parker, Colberg, Bucher, "Wucherer, 
 Sonntag, and Winkler. These all commit the error in their 
 polemic writings on this subject, of regarding too exclusively 
 the points of difference between Platonism and Christianity, 
 and balancing these against the points of approximation and 
 accordance not only not impartially — for then they must have 
 found that the former are balanced by the latter — but also 
 leaving entirely out of account the intrinsic difference in their 
 respective values. For while the Christian element, as the 
 superscription of our whole examination also expresses it, exists 
 as a whole, and something which pervades Platonism, that 
 which must be called non-Christian and unchristian appears 
 always only in particulars, — as, in a fresh green tree, a dry 
 twig may be found here and there. He, also, who would judge 
 rightly in this case, should not overlook the distinction between 
 non-Christian and unchristian, nor straightway declare that 
 which does not accord with Christianity to be unchristian, since, 
 indeed, it is only not Christian. 
 
 Only a single passage in Plato's works could perhaps be 
 called unchristian, viz., that in which he nakedly and without 
 qualification recommends the magistracy to use improper means 
 — viz., falsehood — for a salutary purpose, 1 and where he conse- 
 quently in a truly Jesuitical arid unevangelical manner counsels 
 to do evil that good may come. 
 
 In another passage also, he seems to manifest an unchristian 
 temper, when he says, that one must withdraw entirely from 
 1 Rep. 3, 389. b. [ii. p. 69]. 
 
254 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 public life when he can accomplish nothing, and, leaving the 
 irremediable to destruction, seek to save himself. 2 For this 
 declaration, which sounds so strongly egotistical, Plato has been 
 not a little censured by Niebuhr ; and it cannot be denied, that 
 it must have been severely blamed and condemned as thoroughly 
 unchristian, if it had been more than the momentary ebullition 
 of bitter indignation, which caused him to speak in a less 
 Christian manner than he thought and acted. 
 
 Directly opposed to the spirit of the Gospel, is certainly 
 also the already mentioned law of his Republic respecting the 
 exposure of weakly children ; and the ordinance, so revolting to 
 our tender feelings, of community of wives in the warrior caste. 
 But this sternness is to be charged rather to his times, and the 
 customs of his country, than to himself. We do not condemn 
 Moses on account of some severe laws, to which he was neces- 
 sitated by the rudeness of his people, and which wounded the 
 feelings of the sturdy ancients much less than ours. 3 And the 
 offensiveness, in itself, of a community of wives in a whole 
 class of citizens, is mitigated subjectively, with respect to the 
 author of the proposal, by the Christian truth, that to the pure 
 all things are pure (Tit. i. 15). This thought, which, as we 
 saw, is not exclusively Plato's, did not proceed from the flesh 
 and its concupiscence, but from a severely moral spirit. Far 
 from wishing, by this institution, to encourage the base violent 
 impulses of the sensuous nature, he purposed rather to effect by 
 it a procreation of children conditioned by reason and virtue ; 
 and, in this, the reproach may certainly be not unjustly 
 brought upon him, that he made a mistake in imagining that 
 the sensuous life would leave so pure and uncorrupted, what 
 he, with a pure mind and intention, was desiring to introduce 
 into it. 4 
 
 2 Eep. 6, 496. d, e. [ii. p. 184]. 
 
 3 Deut. xx. 13, xxiv. 1, etc. Cf. Matt. xix. 8. 
 
 4 What a moral view Plato had of marriage in other respects is shown 
 by his maxims in reference to this subject. Legg. 6, 773. a. sq. [v. 
 p. 226-7]. 
 
NON-CHRISTIAN AND UNCHRISTIAN ELEMENTS IN PLATO. 255 
 
 As Plato, by this ordinance, deviates from the views of 
 Christianity on the dignity and destiny of woman, so by 
 another he approaches them, and, indeed, rises apparently to a 
 Christian way of thinking concerning women, — when, namely, 
 in his state he wishes no less care to be expended on their 
 education than on that of men, and especially requires that 
 the same degree of culture should be given to the women as 
 to the men. 5 
 
 His Greek pride and depreciation of barbarians 6 can no 
 more be reckoned to him as something purely unchristian, 
 than his allowing the continuance of slavery in his Republic. 
 For although, as touching this point, he was, on the one hand, 
 very much held by the views of his time, yet, on the other 
 hand, there appears in him much that is alleviating and 
 kindred to the spirit of Christian humanity in this relation. 7 
 
 But much more dangerous to Plato's reputation for Chris- 
 tianity than such offensive passages and expressions in his 
 writings, is the charge of the unchristian way of thinking 
 which is said to lie at the foundation of his theology. It has 
 been long and generally maintained that his doctrine of God 
 is Pantheism. It cannot be denied that the true Christian 
 theology is the declared and irreconcileable opponent of Pan- 
 theism ; and the prevalence in the Platonic philosophy of 
 Pantheistic representations and elements also cannot be dis- 
 puted. But should we immediately, on this confession, cry out 
 like the High Priest, c What further need have we of wit- 
 nesses?' (Matt. xxvi. 65), and so reject and condemn the 
 Platonic belief in God, without entering into a closer ex- 
 amination of it, this would unquestionably be a hasty and 
 premature judgment of a matter which ought to be maturely 
 weighed.* 
 
 5 Rep. 5, 451. d. sq. [ii. p. 136]. 
 
 6 Rep. 5, 469. b. sq. 470. c. sq. [ii. pp. 155, 160]. 
 
 7 Legg. 6, 776. c, d. [v. p. 233]. 
 
 * [ 4 The causal energy of God as exerted in the formation and support 
 of a world dependent on, but separate from Him, is not more congenial to 
 

 256 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 This is not the place to enter more narrowly on the diffi- 
 cult question with regard to Pantheism in general, and that 
 of Plato in particular. We will only take briefly into view 
 several points which must be duly considered and weighed, if 
 a correct and just view of the matter is to be formed. 
 
 1. Those who are zealous to condemn absolutely and with- 
 out further consideration whatever sounds only remotely like 
 Pantheism, should not forget that with what measure they 
 mete, it shall be measured to them again, and that the sen- 
 tence of rejection which they, by the Gospel truth, bring 
 against others, will probably, also, at the same time apply to 
 themselves. For the most frequent and violent oppositions 
 to Pantheistic modes of thinking, proceed from those who 
 are deistically inclined ; and, unquestionably, pure Christianity 
 thrusts Deism from it with the same repugnance as it does 
 Pantheism. 
 
 2. But though Christianity so earnestly seeks to separate 
 and keep itself in its inner being and life from these two 
 
 religion, than it is acceptable to philosophy ; but as a lesson of toleration is 
 never superfluous, I may, before leaving this part of the subject, seasonably 
 remind you that the maintenance of even the latest of these forms of the 
 theory that identifies the Absolute Being with the world of sensible mani- 
 festation, is not felt by many of its upholders to be inconsistent with a 
 practical acceptance of the Christian faith. Whether the world be the 
 attribute of which God is the substance, or the eifect of which God is the 
 cause, they regard as a transcendental question, upon which Eevelation was 
 not meant to enlighten us, and though assuredly no small exercise of in- 
 genuity would be necessary to reconcile this principle with the express de- 
 claration of the Scripture record, or to prove that Scripture did not, pop- 
 ularly indeed, but positively, decide the transcendental question itself ; or 
 again, to evince that the Deity of the Bible is only a manifestation of the 
 Absolute Nature in a shape cognizable by the understanding — yet, while 
 we firmly resist error in every shape, we ought to rejoice in being able to 
 extend indulgence to those maintainers of it, whose happy inconsistency 
 allows them to join with wayward speculative opinions in the regions of 
 abstract thought, a reverential reception of the whole law of life, and a coin- 
 cidence in all the requisitions of practical morality.' — Lectures on the History 
 of Ancient Philosophy, by W. Archer Butler, A.M. — TV.] 
 
NON-CHRISTIAN AND UNCHRISTIAN ELEMENTS IN PLATO. 257 
 
 oppositcs, yet it is difficult, yea, almost impossible, for it in 
 the form of science to be wholly free from them. History 
 shows that Christian Theology has not, from its origin to the 
 present day, succeeded in establishing a doctrine of God which 
 is throughout pure and free from all Deistical and Pantheistic 
 mixture. Every system of Dogmatics which has hitherto 
 appeared, inclines more or less to one of these two extremes, 
 and so to a certain non-Christianity. 
 
 3. But, if now even Christian science and thought have 
 rarely or never succeeded in steering safely past these two 
 rocks, it should not be rated too highly against heathen theo- 
 logy, if it has more frequently made shipwreck upon them. 
 If Christian teachers concerning God, and those not seldom 
 the most distinguished, have fallen into the error of Pantheism, 
 the heathens certainly deserve some indulgence when they 
 render themselves chargeable with the same fault. 
 
 4. And so much the more as Pantheism does not neces- 
 sarily altogether exclude piety, but generally includes it and 
 promotes it. 8 For, without doubt, a being powerfully impressed 
 and. pervaded by a sense of the Godhead, is essentially peculiar 
 to piety in general, whether it be called a feeling or conscious- 
 
 8 The most striking examples of this are Spinoza and Schleiermacher. 
 There have been few more pious men than Spinoza ; and his feeling and 
 consciousness of God, his religiousness, was unquestionably livelier, stronger, 
 and truer, than that of most who have accused and condemned him. One 
 inay think, speak, and write more correctly concerning God than did Spinoza, 
 without, however, believing in Him so earnestly. For the belief in God of 
 many men is such as they persuade themselves and others that they have, 
 without really possessing it ; and consists in nothing but a conception on 
 which they have settled, and to which they set up no direct contradiction. 
 How often and violently has Schleiermacher been accused of Pantheism ! 
 But who questions his piety? And his piety was not merely general,- but of 
 a truly Christian character, of which his sermons, his life, and his death, 
 afford a speaking testimony. Modern theology and philosophy, recognising 
 this connection of some pantheistic modes of representation with true piety, 
 have too boldly asserted that Pantheism is a necessary process by which to 
 attain the most lively form of piety. 
 
 17 
 
258 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 ness. Now, it is undeniably in the nature of Pantheism, being 
 throughout full of the intuition and feeling of life, to beget 
 a lively impression of the presence of God ; while Deism, 
 on account of its prevailing tendency to the abstract, proves 
 almost always injurious to the proper life of piety. To a 
 Deist, certainly, the important distinction between the God 
 abstractly conceived and deeply and truly felt, can as little be 
 rendered evident, as the inspiring glory of a symphony or a 
 fugue to the man who is wholly deficient in a sense for music. 
 
 5. The principal thing, however, in order to decide cor- 
 rectly in this matter, is to distinguish between intentional or 
 conscious and unconscious or involuntary Pantheism ; and not, 
 for mere convenience of thought, to regard Pantheism as a 
 general hat which is always ready and fits every pantheistic 
 head without alteration, but to distinguish from each other the 
 numerous and various stages by which, in its course of develop- 
 ment, it rises from the first slight beginnings to its systematic 
 perfection. Pantheism, in the proper sense of the word, does 
 not exist everywhere, where pantheistic elements may be 
 found ; the latter occur frequently, the first rarely occurs. 
 
 6. The Platonic philosophy does not properly contain Pan- 
 theism systematically developed, but rather only pantheistic 
 tendencies and ideas ; and these, indeed, of the best and noblest 
 kind, —that is, those which are least directly opposed to Chris- 
 tianity, and may be united with a deep and genuine piety. 
 For a philosophy which, like that of Plato, has for its fulcrum 
 and starting-point the recognition of the true and immortal 
 Self in man, and makes the redemption and energizing of this 
 the main object of its endeavour (p. 247), is infinitely removed 
 from that absolutely unchristian Pantheism, whose highest and 
 most religious thought is the total dissolution and sinking of 
 the individual Ego in the ocean of the universe ! 
 
 With the Pantheistic element of the Platonic philosophy is 
 closely connected the absence in it of any proper doctrine of 
 creation. Its doctrine of creation is not, indeed, unchristian, 
 
NON-CHRISTIAN AND UNCHRISTIAN ELEMENTS IN PLATO. 259 
 
 but only not Christian. And have ive, in our present Christian 
 Theology, a true, complete, and scientifically elaborated doctrine 
 of creation ? I must confess that I know of none such. But 
 until we do possess such an one, the ?2o?i-Christian character of 
 the Platonic teaching with respect to the formation of the 
 world cannot be very exactly determined or adequately con- 
 ceived of. A sufficient proof that Plato's dogma of the mun- 
 dane soul was only rccm-Christian, and not directly unchristian, 
 has been already furnished above from the history of Chris- 
 tian dogmas (p. 52, n. 75). 
 
 But we do not, with these scattered perceptions of points 
 and doctrines which do not agree in Platonism and Christi- 
 anity, attain the proper object of our present examination. It 
 must be our earnest endeavour to seize that point which con- 
 tains the most essential element of inner diversity between 
 the Gospel and the Platonic philosophy, and which renders 
 perfectly clear the principal difference between the two. And 
 to find this point is not at all difficult. We have already 
 hinted it at the opening of this chapter, and it proceeds im- 
 mediately from the juxtaposition of our two main conceptions. 
 The essence of Christianity consists, as we have seen, in saving 
 power, that of Platonism in saving purpose. In Christianity, 
 therefore, salvation is present in deed and reality ; in Platonism 
 only in thought, and as the end of its striving. Christian 
 redemption takes place immediately in life, and belongs first 
 to life, as from this also it proceeded ; that of Platonism is 
 a product of speculation, and is accordingly contained more 
 within science, and is not particularly capacitated to work 
 beyond this immediately into life. It is the abstract, still un- 
 real, not the concrete truth, which Plato's mind had grasped. 
 However nearly his theology and view of the world may ap- 
 proximate to the Christian, it is still lacking the really germi- 
 nant and animating principle, the living heart-beat of Christi- 
 anity, — namely, the Person and Work, or the Life and Sufferings 
 of the Eedeemer. For this is the principal thing which dis- 
 
260 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 tinguislies the Christian from every other form of religion and 
 faith. 
 
 We cannot regard the heathen doctrines of religion and 
 ethics without inward admiration of their often surprising 
 similarity to the Christian. The deeper we penetrate into the 
 writings of the ancients, the less can we ward off the conviction 
 that on the side of doctrine they truly stand but little behind 
 Christianity ; they contain not only almost all the moral doc- 
 trines and sublime sayings which the Gospel has given us, but 
 many of these are even more sharply conceived and more 
 beautifully presented in the former than in the latter ; and 
 those persons who have nothing better to extol in Christianity 
 than its t incomparable doctrines,' its sayings and moral sen- 
 tences, do not know what they are doing or saying. It is truly 
 not doctrine which raises Christianity high above all that history 
 has formed or diffused as religion. Noble and divine truths 
 have been taught by non-Christian sages in almost the same 
 purity and elevation as by the Founder of Christianity, whom 
 it is intended very greatly to honour when he is called the Sage 
 of Nazareth. But the superiority in idea and feeling, the real 
 life and love of the Holy One on earth, the incarnation of the 
 Divine Word' — this no philosophy or speculation in the world 
 can effect like Christianity, since, indeed, the proper creation of 
 life is placed in no man's power or might, and least of all in 
 that of abstraction. 
 
 Now, from this, the mere ideal character of Platonism, is 
 most clearly perceived its most important point of distinction 
 from Christianity ; and the reason is also seen for the exagge- 
 rated esteem which it has enjoyed in ancient and modern times. 
 The occurrence of some rationalistic views and expressions in 
 Plato's works is now no longer found to be so incomprehensible 
 as it might at first appear in one, who is, on the whole, so 
 supernaturalistic and mystical a thinker. It is perceived that 
 the entire Greek culture, and especially Greek philosophy, 
 must have been pervaded by rationalistic elements, because 
 
NON-CHRISTIAN AND UNCHRISTIAN ELEMENTS IN PLATO. 261 
 
 here, in opposition to the prevalent thinking, cultivated up to 
 this point, no actual entrance of the heavenly into the life of 
 earth took place. It is further understood from this, why also 
 the divine Plato, as little as any other heathen, bore in his 
 soul a powerful impression of the holiness of God ; and hence 
 why in his, as in the whole heathen theology, so little is even 
 said of this divine attribute, which in Christian Theology forms 
 the basis of the doctrine of atonement. Because it does not 
 bring the idea of God to penetrate into the living reality and 
 personality, the human and finite ever remains predominant 
 and highest in the heathen philosophy, while in Christianity, on 
 the contrary, the eternal and infinite is preponderant. In the 
 former the deification of man, in the latter the incarnation of 
 God, is the summit of pious faith. In the former, therefore, 
 a pure worship in spirit and truth is impossible, because, as 
 Eschenmayer justly remarks, it is an unalterable relation, that 
 the knowing subject is above his idea, the conceiving above 
 his conception, the thinking above his thought. In the former, 
 pride, in the latter, humility, is the foundation and mother of 
 all virtue ; for the idea is proud by its nature and birth, be- 
 cause it feels its transcendental power and tendency, and sits 
 enthroned so clearly, safely, and fearlessly in its abstract 
 dignity. In the former, human nature appears in the con- 
 sciousness of its possessions ; in the latter, in the feeling of its 
 necessities. In the former, it perfects itself of itself and for 
 itself; in the latter, by the influence of the Redeemer, and for the 
 Holy One in heaven. In the former, accordingly, virtue may 
 indeed imagine herself perfect, since she looks only in and 
 around or below herself ; but in the latter, the man must per- 
 ceive that he is saved by faith, and not of works (Eph. ii. 8), 
 because he does not confine his regard to his own conception, 
 nor to the world, but raises it to that conception which God 
 has of the nature of true virtue, and to which his, as a human 
 work, can never entirely correspond. 
 
 The heathen doctrine of virtue, "which heightens the feeling 
 
262 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 of self, is of course more comfortable and agreeable to human 
 egotism than the heart-humbling evangelical doctrine of free 
 grace ; and since, according to Goethe's saying, 9 there are plenty 
 of thorough, born heathens within the Church, it is indeed not 
 to be wondered at, that the heathen dogma of the self-sufficiency 
 of human nature for morality and salvation continues to have 
 a large number of professors and admirers even among Chris- 
 tians ; but it is indeed strange, that this otherwise very honour- 
 able heathen church should possess naivete or boldness enough 
 to announce their moral principle as the only truly Christian 
 one. It may abuse and revile the evangelical doctrine of saving 
 faith in Christ Jesus as much as it pleases, — this can do no in- 
 jury to the dignity of Him who took upon Himself the shame 
 of the cross, and patiently bore the sins of the world ; but it 
 ought to honour the truth, and not to deny, what no honest 
 man with two eyes can deny, namely, that this doctrine, which 
 is so irksome to many, is the clear and unambiguous doctrine of 
 the Bible. It does not enhance the reputation of the embittered 
 opponents of this doctrine, that, in order that they may express 
 their repugnance to it strongly, coarsely, and regardlessly, they 
 first rob it of its honourable name, and give it out to be the 
 mental offspring of nobody knows whom, that thus they may 
 shield themselves from the reproach of speaking disrespectfully 
 of a matter deserving reverence. If they believe that they 
 must come forward in the interest of a conviction which is 
 sacred to them, and oppose the evangelical doctrine of grace, 
 they should also have the courage to confess freely and openly, 
 that, according to their conviction, the Gospel does not teach 
 correctly on this point, and that, with respect to the moral rela- 
 tion of man to God, they place higher, and consider more true, 
 the view of Plato and Aristotle, than that of our Lord and His 
 disciples. 
 
 O, it certainly is much sweeter and less troublesome to rise 
 by a Platonic bound of the intellect to the Divine in idea, than 
 9 Werke, 37. S. 29. 
 
NON-CHRISTIAN AND UNCHRISTIAN ELEMENTS IN PLATO. 263 
 
 to follow Christ in calm fidelity, and to bear after Him the 
 cross of self-denial ! For which reason, the crafty world, even 
 at the present day, when it has arrived at the conviction that a 
 certain striving towards God is an indispensable constituent of 
 human dignity, strikes much rather into the easier and more 
 brilliant way of thinking the Divine, than the way of the cross, 
 so full of fighting and wounds ; and, accordingly, much prefers 
 an assthetico-platonic or philosophico-moral doctrine of religion, 
 to the Christian. 
 
 "But, be it with this as it may, thus much is clear in respect 
 of the heathen Platonic and the Christian anthropology, that 
 the gain in human dignity is, in the former, only an apparent 
 one, the loss a real one ; in the latter, on the other hand, the loss 
 is apparent, and the gain is real. How indeed did it happen, 
 that classic heathendom, with all its high estimation, yea, almost 
 deification of human nature, was yet unable to form or appre- 
 hend any proper conception of freedom and personality, while 
 Christianity, which seems to degrade man almost entirely, 
 denying throughout to his virtue any merit before God, is the 
 only religion on earth from which the docrine of human dignity, 
 personality, and freedom has been most gloriously developed? 
 How is it, that heathen philosophy, even in the excellent Plato, 
 in spite of all its struggling and soaring, could never get en- 
 tirely free from a miserable fatalism, and consequently took 
 back again with the religious left hand what of bearing and 
 dignity it gave to man with the moral right hand % Plato pre- 
 sents to us the picture of man suffused with the splendour of the 
 Godhead ; but, alas ! he bears the sullen chains of absolute 
 irrational Necessity! 10 
 
 Gloriously indeed does this enthusiast speak of redemption ; 
 
 % 
 
 10 Tim. 68. d, e. Rep. 10, 616. c. 617. b. 620. e. [ii. pp. 379, 307-8, 
 311]. The necessity appears certainly very much mitigated by its minister- 
 ing relation to the idea and power of the good. (Theaet. 176. a. [i. p. 411]. 
 Cf. Matt. 18. 7). Still, even in Plato it is always sufficiently blank and 
 oppressive. 
 
264 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 bat disregarding the fact, that even this is only a beautiful dis- 
 course, not a fact and history, the Platonic salvation, in conse- 
 quence of its ideal nature, does not penetrate into the whole 
 of human being and life, but only into its upper regions. And 
 that which the second world-principle, Necessity, has contri- 
 buted to the education of man, can in no manner be gained and 
 won for the Deity; 11 it belongs eternally, by property and 
 inheritance, to its mother. Yet it is a truly Christian mitigation 
 of this in itself harsh thought, that Plato allows at least some 
 broken rays of divine light to reach these gloomy depths, and 
 that these participate from afar in the atoning grace and power 
 of the spiritual and eternal; 12 and precisely in such pre-intima- 
 tions of an all- overcoming, penetrating, and sanctifying love, is 
 the Christian element, in his way of thinking, ever most beauti 
 fully manifested. 
 
 If we regard the redemption, which Plato, like Christianity, 
 aims at, we cannot deny that its resemblance to the Christian is 
 in great part more external than internal. ■ Christianity would 
 redeem men from the power of that which is evil and opposed 
 to God ; Platonism really only from errors and deceptive ap- 
 pearance.^'For, since to Plato, as a logical thinker, and in 
 accordance with his principles, the being good coincides with 
 true knowing, and the highest wisdom is also for him the 
 highest morality ; so also, on the other hand, as was intimated 
 above (p. 57, n. 99), he can perceive the bad in nothing but 
 the fault and error of the thinking reason, and he, like so many 
 theologians and philosophers even of our times, understands 
 by the bad nothing real (existent in and of itself), but only 
 
 11 In this especially, as the Church fathers well understood, lies the deep 
 significance of the Christian doctrine of Resurrection, that corporeality and 
 matter are not by it excluded from the operations of the loving omnipo- 
 tence of God, and that therefore there is nothing in the world which hin- 
 ders or breaks the power of the Godhead, as the heathens imagined. Athen. 
 de Res. pp. 315, 333. Iren. adv. Haer. 5, 3. 13. 15. Tert. Ap. 48. Cyr. 
 Cat. 4, 29, etc. 
 
 12 Tim. 71. b. sq. [ii. p. 383]. 
 
NON-CHRISTIAN AND UNCHRISTIAN ELEMENTS IN PLATO. 265 
 
 the empty perishable appearance, the in itself untrue and vain. 
 And the relation of man to sin, his resignation to its power and 
 dominion, is with him not so much, as according to the Chris- 
 tian view, one made by man himself, proceeding from the free 
 act of his will, as rather one founded in the constitution of 
 nature and the world, and into which man has fallen merely 
 from ignorance. But even in this in fact not properly Christian 
 conception of sin and salvation, we can at least commend the 
 strict logical sequence and Christian honesty with which he 
 clearly discerns and acknowledges, what those of the same faith 
 in modern times will neither confess to themselves nor to others, 
 that his redemption is an aristocratic one, and can be of service 
 only to the intellectually and philosophically cultivated. 13 
 
 But if now we have adequately discerned that there are 
 indeed genuine Christian elements in Plato and his philosophy, 
 but not so pure and rich as in the great historic phenomenon 
 which we call Christianity — even as the character of metal is 
 not wanting in any silver ore, yet appears most expressly in 
 solid gold — our discussion has thus brought us back to the first 
 chapter, and the views of the Church fathers concerning Pla- 
 tonism. We feel ourselves urged to accord cheerfully in the high 
 praise which they lavish on his pious and Christian thoughts ; 
 but also, like them, to declare that his philosophy can never, as 
 a whole, be set on the same level with the Gospel, or take its 
 place. When we say there has never been a more Christian 
 philosophy outside the Church of Christ than the Platonic — 
 when we say that Christianity, which from the beginning lay in 
 the womb of history, before its living appearance in the person 
 and life of Jesus, came almost to the light, and to a manifesta- 
 tion, in a mind thinking, and inquiring after, Divine truth, and 
 that this ideal gospel is Platonism — we have expressed the high- 
 
 13 Phil. 33. b. [iv. p. 47]. There has been great opposition to the 
 Catholic Church, because it maintains that out of it there is no salvation. 
 But it may be asked, which assertion is harder or more intolerable, — this, 
 or that of the old Greek philosophers, that happiness can be enjoyed only 
 by those who philosophize ? Arist. Eth. 10, 10. 
 
266 THE SUBJECT DEVELOPED GENETICALLY. 
 
 est and best which we can with well-founded conviction say of 
 it. More than an ideal power and magnitude Platonism can 
 and will never be. 
 
 But if now Platonism, as it has been variously seen by us, 
 is, on account of its ideal nature and religious elevation, and on 
 account of the finished beauty of its dialectic form, so exceed- 
 ingly adapted to excite the admiration and enthusiasm of all 
 true thinkers, and to win all who are yearning towards the 
 Divine, — how great, how infinitely great, must be the hidden 
 inner might of the homely word from Jesus' life of poverty, 
 since it, although dispensing with that which is so fascinating 
 in Platonism, notwithstanding this, not only soon built a greater 
 church than Plato ever saw about him, but also victoriously out- 
 lasted in Platonism its most respectable and intellectually most 
 powerful rival ! And if there is, confessedly, in the whole phi- 
 losophical literature of ancient and modern times, no production 
 which, in respect of the combination of aesthetic perfection of 
 form with depth and wealth of ideas, and the energy of a mind 
 divinely animated, could be placed by the side of Platonism, — 
 then how incomparably high stands the often mistaken and 
 scorned Christianity, since we ever perceive far beneath it 
 the most sublime system which human art and wisdom ever 
 created ! 
 
APPENDIX 
 
TRANSLATION OF SOME PASSAGES REFERRED TO IN 
 THE SIXTH CHAPTER. 
 
 From the so-called Apology of Socrates, 30. a. sq. 
 [i. p. 17-18.] 
 
 ' And I think that no greater good has ever befallen you in 
 the city, than my zeal for the service of the god. For I go 
 about doing nothing else than persuading you, both young and 
 old, to take no care for the body, or for riches, prior to or so 
 much as for the soul, how it may be made most perfect, telling 
 you that virtue does not spring from riches, but riches and all 
 other human blessings, both private and public, from virtue. If, 
 then, by saying these things, I corrupt the youth, these things 
 must be mischievous ; but if any one says that I speak other 
 things than these, he misleads you. Therefore, I must say, O 
 Athenians, either yield to Anytus, or do not ; either dismiss me 
 or not, since I shall not act otherwise, even though I must die 
 many deaths. 
 
 6 Murmur not, O Athenians, but continue to attend to my 
 request, not to murmur at what I say, but to listen, for, as I 
 think, you will derive benefit from listening. For I am going 
 to say other things to you, at which perhaps you will raise a 
 clamour, but on no account do so. Be well assured, then, if 
 you put me to death, being such a man as I say I am, you will 
 
270 APPENDIX. 
 
 not injure me more than yourselves. For neither will Melitus 
 nor Anytus harm me ; nor have they the power : for I do not 
 think it is possible for a better man to be injured by a worse. 
 He may perhaps have me condemned to death, or banished, or 
 deprived of civil rights ; and he or others may perhaps consider 
 these as mighty evils, I, however, do not consider them so ; 
 but that it is much more so to do what he is now doing, to en- 
 deavour to put a man to death unjustly. Now, therefore, O 
 Athenians, I am far from making a defence on my own behalf, 
 as any one might think ; but I do so on your behalf, lest by 
 condemning me you should offend at all with respect to the gift 
 of the deity to you. For if you should put me to death, you 
 will not easily find such another, though it may be ridiculous to 
 say so, altogether attached by the deity to this city as to a 
 powerful and generous horse, somewhat sluggish from his size, 
 and requiring to be roused by a gad-fly ; so the deity appears 
 to have united me, being such a person as I am, to the city, that 
 I may rouse you, and persuade and reprove every one of you, 
 nor ever cease besetting you throughout the whole day. Such 
 another man, O Athenians, will not easily be found ; therefore, 
 if you will take my advice, you will spare me. But yon, per- 
 haps, being irritated, like drowsy persons who are roused from 
 sleep, will strike me, and, yielding to Anytus, will unthinkingly 
 condemn me to death ; and then you will pass the rest of your 
 life in sleep, unless the deity, caring for you, should send some 
 one else to vou.' 
 
 Eepublic, 8, 559, d. sq. [ii. p. 249-251]. 
 
 ' When a young man, brought up, as we now mentioned, 
 without proper instruction, and in niggard fashion, conies to 
 taste the drones' honey, and associates with those fiery terrible 
 creatures, who can procure all sorts and varieties of pleasure, 
 and from every quarter ; then you may conceive, he somehow 
 
APPENDIX. 271 
 
 beo-ins to chancre the olio-archie for the democratic character. 
 It must be so, he observes. Well, then, just as the state was 
 changed by the aid of another party from without, to which it 
 was related, is not the youth so changed likewise, through the 
 aid of one species of desires from without, to others within 
 him, which resemble them, and are allied thereto ? By all 
 means. And, methinks, if any alliance should come to coun- 
 teract the oligarchic principle within him, either through 
 his father or other relatives, admonishing and upbraiding 
 him, then truly will arise sedition, opposition, and an in- 
 ternal struggle against himself. Undoubtedly. And some- 
 times, indeed, I think the democratic yields to the oligarchic 
 principle, and some of the desires are destroyed, while others 
 retire, because a certain modesty is engendered in the youth's 
 soul, and he is again restored to order. This is sometimes the 
 case, said he. And again, I suppose, when some desires retire, 
 others allied to them secretly grow up, which, through neglect 
 of parental instruction, become both many and powerful. This 
 is usually the case, said he. They draw them then towards 
 the same intimacies as before, and through their connections 
 secretly generate a multitude? What else ? And in the end, 
 I think, they seize the citadel of the youth's soul, because they 
 find it empty, as regards virtuous pursuits and true reasoning, 
 — the best guardians and preservers of the rational part of 
 men dear to the gods. Just so, said he. And then, indeed, 
 false and arrogant reasonings and opinions rush up in their 
 stead, and take their place in such people. Assuredly, said he. 
 And does he not then come once more, and dwell openly 
 among those Lotophagi % And if any aid come from intimate 
 friends to strengthen the parsimonious principle within him, 
 these said arrogant reasonings, by shutting against it the gates 
 of the royal wall, neither permit the alliance itself, nor allow 
 the ambassadorial admonitions of individual old men, but 
 struggle against them, and maintain themselves in power ; — 
 and as for modesty, they call it stupidity, and thrust it out into 
 
 1/ 
 
272 APPENDIX. 
 
 disgraceful exile, while temperance they call unmanliness, load 
 it with abuse, and then expel it ; — and as for moderation and 
 decent exj^ense, they persuade themselves that they are nothing 
 else but rusticity and illiberality, and banish them from their 
 territories, with many other unprofitable desires. Assuredly, 
 they do. Having emptied and purified from all these desires 
 the soul thus held by them, and initiated in the great mys- 
 teries, they next introduce, with encomiums and false eulo- 
 gies, indolence and anarchy, extravagance and shamelessness, 
 shining with a great retinue and wearing crowns, — calling 
 insolence, good breeding, — anarchy, liberty, — luxury, magnifi- 
 cence, — and impudence, manliness. . . . And yet such an 
 one, said I, will not listen to true reasoning, nor admit it into 
 his stronghold, — should he be told that some pleasures are 
 attached to honourable and virtuous desires, others to those 
 that are depraved, and that he should pursue and honour the 
 former, but chastise and hold captive the latter, — but in all 
 these cases will dissent, and say that they are all alike, and to 
 be held in equal honour. Assuredly, said he, one thus affected 
 does this. Well then, said I, thus does he daily live, gratify- 
 ing every incidental desire, sometimes getting drunk to the 
 sound of the flute ; at others, temperately drinking water ; at 
 others, again, exercising gymnastics ; sometimes indolent and 
 wholly careless ; then again applying, as it were, to philosophy, 
 — : often, too, acting the politician, saying and doing by skips 
 and jumps whatever comes first : — and, if he would imitate 
 any of the military tribe, thither he is carried ; if the mercan- 
 tile, then again thither. Nor is his life regulated by any plan 
 or law ; but deeming this particular life pleasant, and free, and 
 blessed, he follows it throughout.' 
 
 lb. 562, a. sq. [ii. p. 251-3]. 
 
 6 It still remains, however, that we discuss, said I, that most 
 excellent form of government and that most excellent man, — 
 
APPENDIX. 273 
 
 tyranny and the tyrant. . . . Plain. Does not tyranny 
 arise in the same manner from democracy, as democracy does 
 from oligarchy? How — as respects the good, then, which 
 oligarchy proposed to itself, and according to which it was 
 constituted ; was it not with a view of becoming extremely 
 rich ? Yes. An insatiable desire, then, for riches, and a neglect 
 of all besides, through attention to the acquisition of wealth, 
 destroys it. True, said he. And with reference to what de- 
 mocracy denominates good, an insatiable thirst for it destroys 
 it likewise? But what say you, it denominates as good? 
 Liberty, said I ; — for this, you are told, is best found in a state 
 under democratic rule, and hence any one naturally free would 
 choose to dwell in this alone. This word liberty, said he, is 
 vastly much talked about. Yv r ell then, observed I, as I was 
 just going to say, does not the insatiable desire for this, and 
 the neglect of other things, change even the form of govern- 
 ment, and prepare it to need a tyrant ? How ? said he. When 
 a state, said I, is under democratic rule, thirsts after liberty, 
 and happens to have bad cup-bearers appointed it, and gets im- 
 moderately drunk with an unmixed draught thereof, it punishes 
 even the governors, unless they be quite tame-spirited, and 
 allow them excessive liberty, by accusing them of being corrupt 
 and oligarchical. They do so, said he. But such as obey the 
 magistrates, said I, it abuses as willing and good-for-nothing 
 slaves ; both publicly and in private they commending and 
 honouring magistrates who resemble subjects, and subjects who 
 resemble magistrates : must it not happen in such a state, that 
 we must necessarily arrive at the acme of liberty ? Of course. 
 And must it not descend, too, my friend, said I, into private 
 families, and at last reach even the brutes ? How, said he, can 
 we assert aught like this ? For instance, said I, when a father 
 gets used to become like his child, and fears his son, and the 
 son [m like manner] his father, and has neither respect nor fear 
 of his parents, in order, forsooth, that he may be free. . . . 
 And other similar little things also : — and in such cases a 
 
 18 
 
274 APPENDIX. 
 
 teacher fears and flatters his scholars, and the scholars despise 
 their teachers, and so also their tutors ; and, on the whole, the 
 youths resemble those more advanced in years, and rival them 
 both in speech and action ; while the old men sit down with the 
 young, and imitate them in their love of merriment and plea- 
 santry, for fear of appearing morose and despotic. . . . But 
 do you observe, said I, when all these things are collected to- 
 gether in a whole, that they make the soul of the citizens so 
 sensitive, that if they were anyhow to be brought into slavery, 
 they would be indignant, and not endure it; — for in the end, 
 you know, they regard laws neither written nor unwritten, and 
 hence no one will by any means become their master ! I know 
 it well, said he. This then, said I, my friend, I suppose, is 
 that government so beautiful and youthful, whence tyranny 
 springs. . . . Excessive liberty seems only to degenerate 
 into excessive slavery, either in private individuals or states. 
 It is probable, indeed. Probably then, said I, tyranny is esta- 
 blished out of no other form than democracy/ 
 
 Eepublic, 10, 608, a. sq. [ii. p. 298]. 
 
 6 But we shall take along with us this discourse which we 
 have held, as a counter-charm and incantation, being afraid 
 to fall back again into a childish and vulgar love. We may 
 perceive, then, that we are not to be much in earnest about such 
 poetry as this, as if it were a serious affair, and approached to 
 the truth ; but the hearer is to be aware of it, and to be afraid 
 for the republic within himself, and to entertain those opinions 
 of poetry which we mentioned. I entirely agree, said he. For 
 great is the contest, friend Glaucon, said T, great not such as 
 it appears, to become a good or a bad man ; wherefore it is 
 not right to be moved, either by honour, or riches, or any magis- 
 tracy whatever, or poetry, so to neglect justice and the other 
 virtues. I agree with you from what we have argued, and so, 
 
APPENDIX. 275 
 
 I think, will any one else. However, we have not yet, said I, 
 discussed the greatest prize of virtue, and the rewards laid up 
 for her. You speak of some prodigious greatness, said he, if 
 there be other greater than those mentioned. But what is there, 
 said I, can be great in a little time % for all this period from 
 infancy to old age is but little in respect of the whole. Nothing 
 at all indeed, said he. What then % Do you think an im- 
 mortal being ought to be much concerned about such a period, 
 and not about the whole of time ? . . . Have you not per- 
 ceived that our soul is immortal, and never perishes ? ' 
 
 The Laws, 731. e. seq. [v. p. 160]. 
 
 i And this is what people say ; that every man is naturally 
 a friend to himself, and that it is well for a thing of this kind 
 to be necessarily so. But, in truth, the cause of all his mistakes 
 arises to each man, upon each occasion, through the violent 
 love of self. For tlie lover is blinded with respect to the object 
 loved. So that he judges improperly of things just, and good, 
 and beautiful, through thinking that he ought always to honour 
 what belongs to himself, in preference to truth. For it is 
 necessary that he who is to be a great man, should love neither 
 himself, nor the things belonging to himself, but what is just, 
 whether it happens to be done by himself, or by another person 
 rather. From this very same mistake, it has come to pass in all 
 cases, that his ignorance appears to a person to be a wisdom 
 peculiarly his own. Hence, although we know, so to say, 
 nothing, we fancy we know everything ; but, by not permitting 
 others to do that of which we ourselves are ignorant, we are 
 compelled to make mistakes through doing it ourselves. On 
 this account, every man ought to avoid the vehement love of 
 himself, and ever to follow one better than himself, without 
 placing, in a matter of this kind, a feeling of shame in the 
 foreground. But what are of less importance than these, and 
 
276 APPENDIX. 
 
 mentioned frequently, and not less useful than these, it is 
 proper- for a person to remind himself of and to state. For, 
 as something is always flowing away from us, it is necessary 
 for something, on the contrary, to be flowing (to us). Now, 
 recollection is the influx of thoughts which had left us. On 
 which account it is meet to abstain from ill-timed laughter, and 
 tears ; and for every man to announce to every man that he 
 must endeavour, by concealing all excessive joy and all excessive 
 sorrow, to preserve a decent bearing, each person, while his 
 daemon is standing steadily, going on successfully or unsuccess- 
 fully to places on high and steep, while Daemons are opposing 
 with certain disturbances ; and that it is meet ever to hope that 
 delay will, when troubles fall on the great state, which he has 
 given, make them less instead of greater, and (cause) to change 
 from the present state to a better one ; and with respect to the 
 contraries of these, that they will always be present to them 
 with good fortune. In these hopes it is meet for every one to 
 live, and in the recollection of all these things to be sparing on 
 no point, but ever, amidst serious and sportive occupations, to 
 remind another and himself clearly.' 
 
 The Banquet, 211. d. seqq. [iii. p. 553, sq.]. 
 
 ' In this state should a person live, contemplating beauty in 
 the abstract ; which, should he behold it, will appear to be not 
 in a bit of gold, nor in dress, nor in beautiful boys or youths ; 
 with the sight of which you are struck, and are ready, both 
 yourself and many others, if it were possible, to look upon your 
 beloved and live with them for ever, and to neither eat nor 
 drink, but to feast yourself with the view, and to be together. 
 What think you then, said she, would take place, if it were in 
 the power of any person to behold beauty itself, clear as the 
 light, pure and unmixed, but not polluted with human flesh and 
 colour, and much of other kinds of mortal trash ; but be able to 
 
APPENDIX. ^ 277 
 
 view the god-like, beautiful in its singleness of form 1 Think 
 you, said she, that the life of a man would be of little account 
 who looks thither, and beholds it with what he ought, and is in 
 its company ? Perceive you not that then alone will it be in 
 the power of him, who looks upon the beautiful with the eye 
 by which it can be seen, to beget not the shadowy show of 
 virtue, — as not coming in contact with shadowy shows, — but 
 virtue in reality, as coming in contact with a reality ; and that 
 to a person, begetting virtue in a reality and bringing her up, 
 it will happen for him to become god-beloved, and, if ever man 
 was, immortal.' 
 
 The Statesman, 309, b. s<p [iii. p. 276, sq.]. 
 
 i With respect to the rest, however, whose natures meeting 
 with instruction are sufficient to reach to what is high-minded, 
 and to receive through art a commingling with each other, of 
 these it considers such, as incline more to manliness, to have a 
 firmness of conduct, like the strong thread of the web ; but 
 such (as incline) more to a well-ordered conduct, (it considers) 
 as making use (of a thread) supple and soft, and, according to 
 the simile (from weaving), suited to a thinner stuff ; and it en- 
 deavours to bind and weave together the natures inclining in 
 a contrary direction from each other in some such manner. 
 In what manner? In the first place, according to the alliance 
 having fitted together the eternal part of their soul with a 
 divine bond ; and after that the divine (portion) that produces 
 life with human. Why again have you said this 1 When an 
 opinion really true exists with firmness in the soul, respecting 
 the beautiful, and just, and good, and the contraries to these, 
 I say that a god-like (opinion) is produced in a divine genius. 
 It is proper it should. Do we not know that it befits the 
 statesman and a good legislator alone to be able, with the 
 discipline of the kingly science, to effect this very thing in 
 
278 APPENDIX. 
 
 those who take properly a share in instruction, and whom we 
 have just now mentioned % This is reasonable. What then % 
 Is not a manly soul, when it lays hold of a truth of this kind, 
 rendered mild? and would it not be willing in the highest 
 degree to partake of things just 1 How not ? But what, does 
 not that, which is a part of a well-ordered nature, after re- 
 ceiving these opinions, become truly moderate and prudent, at 
 least in a polity ? Entirely so. But that in those alone, who 
 have been born with noble manners from the first, and educated 
 according to nature, this (bond) is naturally implanted through 
 the laws ? and for these too there is a remedy through art ; 
 and, as we said before, that this is the more divine bond of the 
 parts of virtue which are naturally dissimilar, and tending to 
 contraries ? Most true. Since, then, this divine bond exists, 
 there is scarcely any difficulty in either understanding the other 
 bonds which are human, or for a person understanding to 
 bring them to a completion. How so ? And what are these 
 bonds? Those of intermarriages and of a communion of 
 children, and those relating to private betrothals and espousals. 
 Let us say, then, that this is the end of the web of the states- 
 man's doing, (so as for him) to weave with straight-weaving the 
 manners of manly and temperate men, when the kingly science 
 shall, by bringing together their common life, through a simi- 
 larity in sentiment and friendship, complete the most magni- 
 ficent and excellent of all webs, and enveloping all the rest in 
 the state, both slaves and free-men, shall hold them together 
 by this texture, and, as far as it is fitting for a state to become 
 prosperous, shall rule and preside over it, deficient in that point 
 not one jot.' 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 279 
 
 II. 
 
 It has been thought unnecessary to load the present trans- 
 lation with the original references to German works, which are 
 not generally accessible to the English reader. A list, how- 
 ever, is subjoined of the principal of such works as will aid the 
 reader in the investigation of the subject. 
 
 Ast. (G. A. Frid.) Platon's Leben u. Schriften, etc. 8vo. 
 
 Leipzic, 1816. 
 Bonterwek, Philosophorum Alex, et Neoplaton. origine. Got- 
 
 tingen, 1821. 
 Combes-Dounous, Ess. hist, sur Plat, et coup d'oeil rap. sur 
 l'historie de Platonisme depuis Plat, jusqu' a nous. Paris, 
 1809. 
 Degerando, Histoire comparee des Systemes cle Philosophic 
 
 Paris, 1822. 4 vols. 
 Fichte, De Philosphise ISTeoplaton. origine. Berlin, 1818. 
 Grotefend, Comm. in qua doctrina Plat. Ethica cum Christ. 
 
 comparatur. Gottingen, 1820. 
 Heusde (P. G. van), Initia philosoph. Platonica?. 8vo. Lugd. 
 
 Bat., 1842. 
 Hoerstel De Platonis doctrina de Deo. Leipzic, 1814. 
 Kapp, Platon's Erziehungslehre. Mind., 1833. 
 Loeffler, Yersuch iiber d. Platonismus der K. W. Ziill. 1792. 
 Luxdorphiana e Platone, 2 a. Ed. Worm. Kop., 1801. 
 Mussmann, Grundriss d. Gesch. d. Christlichen Philosophic 
 
 Halle, 1830. 
 Morgenstern, De Plat. Eep. Comm. Halle, 1794. 
 Neander, Church History, vol. i. Eelation of Grecian to 
 Christian Ethics. Bibliotheca Sacra, vol. x. Andover, 1853. 
 Ogilvie, The Theology of Plato. London, 1793. 
 Oelrichs, Comm. de doctrina Platonis de Deo, etc. Marburg, 
 1788. 
 
280 APPENDIX. 
 
 Richter, De Ideis Plat. Comm. Leipzic, 1827. 
 
 Kitter, Gesch. d. Pliilosophie. Hamburg, 1836-50. English 
 Translation by A. J. W. Morrison, A.M. Oxford. 
 
 Rixner, Gescli. d. Pliilosophie. 
 
 Schleiermacher, Platon's Werke iibersetzt. Berlin, 1817-28. 
 Especially the Einleitung, vol. i. 
 
 Socher, uber Plato's Schriften. Munich, 1820. 
 
 Staeudlin, De philosophiae Platonicae cum doctrina religionis 
 Jud. et Christ, comparatione. Gottingen, 1819. 
 
 Tennemann, System der Platon. Philos. 
 
 Tiedemann, iiber Plato's Begriff von der Gottheit (Mem. de la 
 Soc. d'Antiq. de Cassel, i,), and de Deo Platonis. Amster- 
 dam, 1830. 
 
 Trendelenburg, Platonis de ideis et numeris doctr. ex. Arist. 
 illustrata. Leipzic, 1820. 
 
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