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depends upon the principles one starts out from, the meaning
one attaches to words and the spiritual tendency by which
one is governed. This subjective character of faith in these
sciences is, therefore, no mistake, nor a defect, but a factor
given of necessity in the nature of their object and their
method. It is the essential condition (conditio sine qua nou)
by which alone these sciences can flourish.

The second cause of this unlike working of faith in the
spiritual domain lies in the fact, that faith here not only
renders the formal service of establishing the relation be-
tween the object and the self-conscious and thinking ego.,
but also becomes the immediate voucher of the content.
This is not the case in the material sciences, but it is in
daily life. Our walking, our climbing of stairs, our eating
and drinking, are not preceded by scientific investigation,
but are effected by faith. You run downstairs without
inquiring whether your feet will reach the steps, or whether
the steps are able to bear your weight. You eat bread
without investigating whether it may contain poison, etc.
But when the material world is the object of scientific
investigation, everything is measured, weighed, counted,
separated and examined, and faith renders the exclusively
formal service of making us believe in our senses, in the

146 §47. KELIGION [Div. n

reality of the phenomena, and in the axioms and laws of
Logic by which we demonstrate. In the spiritual sciences,
on the other hand, this is different. In Psychology it is faith,
and faith alone, which directly guarantees to me the pres-
ence of my soul, of my ego, and of my sense of self. All
the data by which I labor on psychical ground fall away
immediately as soon as I consign faith to non-activity.
And when I go out of myself, in order to communicate
with other persons, in nine cases out of ten faith is the
only means at command by which I can receive the revela-
tion of their personality and attach a value to that reve-
lation. Let it be emphatically repeated here, that only
because my mother revealed to me who my father was,
do I know this as a fact ; and in almost every case this
all-important circumstance that affects my whole existence
cannot be certified except by faith in the content of this
revelation. This presents no difficulty as long as it con-
cerns a content which touches me alone ; as soon, however,
as this content acquires a general character, and tends to
establish the laws of psychic life, in the domains of morals,
politics, economics, pedagogy, jurisprudence and philosophy,
we see all sorts of groups of individuals separate into schools,
and nothing more is said of unity and common certainty.

§ 47. Religion

That which in the given sense is true of all science of the
creaturely, and by which in the end everything depends upon
faith, is from the nature of the case still more eminently
true of all scientific research which concerns itself with the
matter of religion. Taking the conception of "religion " pro-
visionally, without any more precise definition, this much is
certain, that all religion assumes communion with something
that transcends the cosmos, this cosmos being taken objec-
tively as well as subjectively. Even when religion takes
no higher flight than Ethics, it gropes about in that ethical
world-order that it might find there a central ethical power
which governs this whole domain, and before which every
non-ethical phenomenon must vanish. As long as Ethics

CuAP. II] § 47. RELIGION 147

aims only at utility or eudemonism, it misses all religious
character. Even with Kant this is the all-important point
at which religion, however barren and abstract, enters into
his ethical world. The ethical subject feels and recognizes
a higher ethical will, to which his will must be subordi-
nated. From which point of view, it follows of necessity
that the whole world of phenomena is either reasoned out of
existence as a mere semblance, or, as real, is subordinated to
the ethical. But in whatever way it is interpreted, in any
case the central power of the ethical world-order is made
to be supreme, transcending all things else, and to it the
subject not only subordinates himself, but also the object.
With a somewhat higher religious development, however,
this will not only not suffice, but there can be no rest until,
surpassing the thelematic, this subordination of subject and
object to this central power has also been found for one's
consciousness. The object of religion is not only placed
outside of this object-subject, but the subject as well as the
object, and the relation of both, must find their ground and
explanation in this central power. The psyche addresses
itself not merely to the general in the special, and to the
permanent in the transient, but to the cause {alria}, the
beginning (ap^v}, the constitution (o-ycrracrt?), and end
(re'Xo?) of both. This extra-cosmic and hyper-cosmic char-
acter, however, of every central power, which in the higher
sense shall be the object of religion, is the very reason that
neither observation nor demonstration are of the least avail
in establishing the tie between our subject and this central
power, and that your reasoning understanding is as unable
to foster as to exterminate religion.

This is different, of course, with Theology, which as a
science concerns itself with the matter of religion; but the
nature of this science, its method and its certainty, sustain
the closest relation to the character of this central power,
which is the impelling motive in all higher religion. As
a physiological and physicocratic study can be for years made
of the expressions of human life, without ever touching uj)on
the study of the psyche, a lifetime can be spent in all sorts

148 §47. RELIGION [Div. II

of interesting studies of religious ideas, culture-forms, and
usages, without ever touching upon the study of religion.
Since we now have a psychology without pysche, we also hear
a great deal said of a science of religion Avithout religion.
In which case all study remains phenomenal, but religion
itself is not reached. Hence in this domain also, everything
addresses itself to faith. If the subject were to construe his
religion out of himself, religion itself would be destroyed.
Its characteristic is that the subject places not only the
cosmos outside of him, but primarily himself in absolute
dependence upon the central power whose superiority he
acknowledges. Consequently he can never place himself
above this central power; this, however, is just what he
would do, if he placed this power under himself as object of
his investigation, or construed it out of himself. Much less
can he construe this central power from the cosmos ; for if
the moral sense demands that we subordinate all that is
cosmical to our ethical life, a fortiori this cosmical can never
be adequate to the central power which dominates our ethical
world-order. By the study of phenomena, therefore, many
definite ideas of religion may be derived from the subject
and from the cosmos, but with all this there is nothing
gained unless I have first grasped the heart of religion, of
which the phenomenal is merely the outshining.

Thus, what in the preceding section we found to be the
case with respect to our relation to other subjects, repeats
itself here with still greater emphasis. No sense, no percep-
tion, and no knowledge is here possible for us, unless this
central power reveals itself to us, affects us, and touches us
inwardly in the centrum of our psyche. When we as man
stand over against man, we are always able from our own
subject to form our idea of the other subject, on the ground
of faith in our common nature. But in religion this infer-
ence fails us. Except, therefore, this central power makes
itself felt by us, and with entire independence reveals itself
to us in a way which bends to the form of our sense and of
our consciousness, it has no existence for us, and religion is
inconceivable. For tliis reason all those systems which try

CiiAP. II] § 47. RELIGION 149

to construe this central power ethically from the subject, or
naturalistically from the object, fall short of religion and
virtually deny it. Against all such efforts the words of the
Psalmist are ever in force : " In thy light shall we see light,"
and also the words of Christ: "Neither doth any know the
Father save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son willeth
to reveal Am." Presently j'^our demonstration may have a
place in your theological studies of the knowledge that is
revealed, and in your inferences derived from it for the sub-
ject and the cosmos ; but observation or demonstration can
never produce one single milligramme of religious gold.
The entire gold-mine of religion lies in the self-revelation
of this central power to the subject, and the subject has no
other means than faith by which to appropriate to itself the
gold from this mine. He wdio has no certainty in himself
on the ground of this faith, about some point or other in
religion, can never be made certain by demonstration or
argument. In this way you may produce outward religious-
ness, but never religion in the heart.

It may even be asserted that faith obtains its absolute
significance only in religion. In the cosmos you are sup-
ported by observation, in the knowledge of other persons by
your own human consciousness and in the self-knowledge of
your own person by the self-consciousness of your ego. But
nothing supports you here. Especially not as the cosmos
now is, and as your subject now exists. In that cosmos, as
well as in your subject, all manner of things oppose your
religious sense; and between you and the object of your
worship there is always the fathomless abyss of the "trans-
ference into another genus " (/tieTa/3acri? et? aX\6 7eVo9), the
transmutation of that which is not God into God. This
cannot be explained more fully now, because we must not
anticipate the character of Theology. But enough has been
said to show convincingly that without faith no forward
step can be taken here, and that therefore there can be no
science of religion unless, by faith, the inquiring subject
holds communion with that which is the supreme element
in the nature of all religion.



§ 48. Two Kinds of People

The certainty and unity of the scientific result, which,
through the strong divergencies which exist in the thinking
subject, and still more through the existence of the lie, al-
most fell victims to Scepticism, recover considerable strength
through the influence of ivisdom and the support of faith.
Since, however, as soon as it performs its function in the
domain of the spiritual sciences, faitli passes again under
the dominion of the subjective divergencies, it can indeed
promote the certainty of the result in the conviction, but
it proves, rather than a help, an obstacle in the way to the
unity of this result. The degree of certainty of one's own
conviction cannot be raised without causing the antithesis
with the scientific result of others to become proportionately
striking. This is true of every spiritual science, in so far
as its object is psychic ; but from the nature of the case this
is most true of the science which has religion for the object
of its investigation; because, here, the subjective-ps3^chic
must make a very important step, in order from one's own
soul to reach the object of its worship.

And yet these darker spots in the orb of science would
prove no obstacle in the way to the unity of its radiance,
if these divergencies in the subject limited themselves to
a relative difference. Since, as was seen at the beginning
of our study, the subject of science is not the individual,
but the general subject of human nature, the potentially
higher might at length of itself draw the potentially lower
up to and along with itself, and in spite of much resistance
and hesitation bring the universal human consciousness to a
clear insight, a firm conviction, and a certain knowledge.


Chap. Ill] § 48. TWO KINDS OF PEOPLE 151

In every domain of the expression of human life the sub-
jective powers are unequal ; not only in that of science, but
also in those of art, religion, the development of social life,
and business. In the spiritual domain, i.e. as soon as the
powers of the consciousness and of the will turn the scale,
equalit}^ is no longer found. Here endless variety is the rule.
But in this multiformity there operates a law, which makes
a rule, and involuntarily causes the radically stronger and
purer expressions to dominate the weaker. That which
takes place in song, takes place in the entire spiritual
domain: the stronger and purer voice strikes the keynote,
and ends by getting the others in tune with it. In the
domain of the sciences, also, experience shows that, after
much resistance and trial, the man of stronger and purer
thought prevails at length over the men of weaker and less
pure thought, convinces them, and compels them to think as he
thinks, or at least to yield to the result of his thinking. Many
convictions are now the common property of the universal
human consciousness, which once were only entertained by
individual thinkers. And when we come into touch with
the thinking consciousness of Buddhists, of the followers
of Confusius, or of Mohammedans, we are in general so
deeply conscious of our superiority, that it never occurs
to us to ingratiate ourselves into their favor, but of itself
and involuntarily, by our very contact with them, we make
our conviction dominate them. When this does not succeed
at once, this is exclusively because of their lesser suscepti-
bility and backwardness ; as soon, however, as they begin to
develop and to approach maturity, they readily conform to
us. According to the rule "(Zm choc des opinio7is jaillit
la verite,''^ i.e. "truth is formed from clashing opinions,"
these provisional and necessary divergencies might be toler-
ated with equanimity, in the firm conviction that from this
multiplicity unity will spring, were only the character of
these divergencies among men exclusively relative and
matters of degree.

But this naturally all falls away when you encounter a
difference of princijyle, and when you come to deal with

152 § 48. TWO KINDS OF PEOPLE [Div. II

two kinds of people, i.e. with those who part company
because of a difference which does not find its origin
within the circle of our human consciousness, but outside
of it. And the Christian religion places before us just this
supremely important fact. For it speaks of a regeneration
(^TraXtyyevea-ca'), of a "being begotten anew" (avayevv-qcn'^^^
followed by an enlightening (^turicr/xo?), which changes man
in his very being; and that indeed by a change or transfor-
mation which is effected by a supernatural cause. The ex-
planation of this fact belongs properly to Dogmatics. But
since this fact exerts an absolutely dominating influence upon
our view of science, it Avould be a culpable blindfolding of
self if we passed it by in silence. This " regeneration " breaks
humanity in two, and repeals the unity of the human con-
sciousness. If this fact of "being begotten anew," coming
in from without, establishes a radical change in the being of
man, be it only potentially, and if this change exercises at
the same time an influence upon his consciousness, then as far
as it has or has not undergone this transformation, there is an
abyss in the universal human consciousness across which no
bridge can be laid. It is with this as with wild fruit trees,
part of which you graft, while the rest you leave alone.
From the moment of that grafting, if successful and the
trees are properly pruned, the growth of the two kinds of trees
is entirely different, and this difference is not merely relative
and a matter of degree, but specific. It is not a better and
tenderer growth in one tree producing a richer fruit, while the
other tree thrives less prosperously, and consequently bears
poorer fruit; but it is a difference in kind. However luxu-
riantly and abundantl}^ the ungrafted tree may leaf and
blossom, it will neve?' bear the fruit which grows on the
grafted tree. But however backward the grafted tree may
be at first in its growth, the blossom which unfolds on its
branches is fruit blossom. No tree grafts itself. The wild
tree cannot change from its own kind into the kind of the
grafted tree, unless a power which resides outside of the
sphere of botany enters in and effects the renewal of the wild
tree. This is no relative transition. A tree is not one-

Chap. Ill] §48. TWO KINDS OF PEOPLE 153

tentli cultivated and nine-tenths wild, so that by degrees it
may become entirely cultivated; it is simply grafted or not
grafted, and the entire result of its future growth depends
on this fundamental difference. And though from the nature
of the case this figure does not escape the weak side which
every metaphor has, it will nevertheless serve its purpose.
It illustrates the idea, that if in the orchard of humanity a
similar operation or grafting takes place, by which the char-
acter of the life-process of our human nature is potentially
changed, a differentiation between man and man takes place
which divides us into two kinds. And if the sublimate,
which from our being arrays itself in our consciousness,
may be compared to the blossom in which the tree develops
its hidden beauty, then it follows that the consciousness of
the grafted and the consciousness of the wow-grafted human-
ity must be as unlike as to kind, as the blossom of the wild,
and that of the true, vine.

But the difficulty which we here encounter is, that every
one grants this fact of grafting of trees, while in the world
of men the parallel fact is de^iied by all who have not experi-
enced it. This would be the case also with the trees, if
they could think and speak. Without a doubt the wild
vine would maintain itself to be the true vine, and look
down upon that which announces itself as the true vine
as the victim of imagination and presumption. The supe-
riority of the cultivated branch would never be recognized
by the wild branch; or, to quote the beautiful German
words, the Wildling (weed) would ever claim to be Edelreis
(noble plant). No, it is not strange that so far as they have
not come into contact with this fact of palingenesis, thought-
ful men should consider the assertion of it an illusion and a
piece of fanaticism ; and that rather than deal with it as fact,
they should apply their powers to prove its inconceivable-
ness. This would not be so, if by some tension of human
power the palingenesis proceeded from the sphere of our
human life ; for then it would seem a thing to be desired,
and all nobler efforts would be directed to it. But since
palingenesis is effected by a power, the origin of which lies

154 § 48. TWO KINDS OF PEOPLE [Div. II

outside of our human reach, so that man is passive under it
as a tree under grafting, the human mind is not quickened
by it to action, and consequently must array itself in opposi-
tion to it. The dilemma is the more perplexing, since he
who has been wrought upon by palingenesis can never con-
vince of it him who has not been similarly wrought upon,
because an action wrought upon us from without the human
sphere, does not lend itself to analysis by our human con-
sciousness; at least not so far as it concerns the common
ground on which men with and without palingenesis can
understand each other. They who are wrought upon by
palingenesis can in no wise avoid, therefore, conveying the
impression of being proud and of exalting themselves. The
Edelreis everywhere offends the Wildling^ not merely in that
measure and sense in which a finely cultured, aesthetically
developed person offends the uncouth parvenu; for with
these the difference is a matter of degree, so that as a rule
the parvenu envies the aristocrat, and so secretly recognizes
his higher worth; but, and this is the fatality, the differ-
ence in hand is and always Avill be one of principle. The
Wildling also grows and blooms, and as a rule its foliage is
more luxuriant, while in its specific development the Edelreis
is not seldom backward.

We speak none too emphatically, therefore, when we
speak of two kinds of people. Both are human, but one is
inwardly different from the other, and consequently feels a
different content rising from his consciousness ; thus they
face the cosmos from different points of view, and are
impelled by different impulses. And the fact that there are
two kinds of people occasions of necessity the fact of two
kinds of human life and consciousness of life, and of two
kinds of science ; for which reason the idea of the unity of
science^ taken in its absolute sense, implies the denial of the
fact of palingenesis, and therefore from principle leads to the
rejection of the Christian religion.

Chap. Ill] § 49. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE 155

§ 49. Two Kinds of Science

By two kinds of science we do not mean that two radi-
cally different representations of the cosmos can be simul-
taneously entertained side by side, with equal right. Truth
is one, and so far as you understand it to be the object re-
flected in our human consciousness, science also can only be
one. Thus if you understand science to be the systematized
result of your perception, observation and thought, the dif-
ference in the result of your investigation may be a matter
of degree but cannot be radical. If the result of A is con-
trary to the result of B, one or both have strayed from the path
of science, but in no case can the two results, simultaneously
and with equal right, be true. But our speaking of two kinds
of science does not mean this. What we mean is, that both
parts of humanit}^ that which has been wrought upon by
palingenesis and that which lacks it, feel the impulse to in-
vestigate the object, and, by doing this in a scientific way, to
obtain a scientific systemization of that which exists. The
effort and activity of both bear the same character; they
are both impelled by the same purpose ; both devote their
strength to the same kind of labor ; and this kind of labor is
in each case called the prosecution of science. But however
much they may be doing the same thing formally, their activ-
ities run in opposite directions, because they have different
starting-points ; and because of the difference in their nature
they apply themselves differently to this work, and view
things in a different way. Because they themselves are dif-
erently constituted, they see a corresponding difference in the
constitution of all things. They are not at work, therefore,
on different parts of the same house, but each builds a house
of his own. Not as if an existing plan, convention or de-
liberation here assigned the rule. This happens as little
in one circle as in the other. Generation upon generation
in all ages, in different lands, and among all classes of
people, is at work on this house of science, without concert
and without an architectural plan, and it is a mysterious
power by which, from all this sporadic labor, a whole is per-

156 § 411. TWO KINDS OF SCIENCE [Div. II

fected. Each one places his brick in the walls of this build-
ing, and always where it belongs, without himself knowing
or planning it. But despite the absence of all architectural
insight the building goes on, and the house is in process of
erection, even though it may never be entirely completed.
And both are doing it, they who have been wrought upon
by palingenesis, as well as those who have remained un-
changed. All this study, in the circle of the one as well as
in that of the other, founds, builds and assists in the con-
struction of a whole. But we emiihatically assert that these
two kinds of people devote their time and their strength to
the erection of two different structures, each of which pur-
poses to be a complete building of science. If, however,
one of these two is asked, whether the building, on which he
labors, will truly provide us what we need in the scientific
realm, he will of course claim for himself the high and noble
name of science, and withhold it from the other.

This cannot be otherwise, for if one acknowledged the
other to be truly scientific, he would be obliged to adopt the
other man's views. You cannot declare a thing to be scien-
tific gold, and then reject it. You derive your right to
reject a thing only from your conviction that that something
is not true, while a conviction that it is true would compel you

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