HEGEL on RELIGION

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PHENOMENOLOGY OF MIND
PHILOSOPHY OF MIND
LECTURES ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION I
LECTURES ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION II
LECTURES ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION III
PHILOSOPHY OF SPIRIT
- Subjective spirit
- Objective spirit
- Absolute Spirit

From THE PHENOMENOLOGY OF MIND

VII. RELIGION

RELIGION IN GENERAL
In the forms of experience hitherto dealt with--which are distinguished broadly
as Consciousness, Self-consciousness, Reason, and Spirit--Religion also, the con
sciousness of Absolute Being in general, has no doubt made its appearance. But t
hat was from the point of view of consciousness, when it has the Absolute Being
for its object. Absolute Being, however, in its own distinctive nature, the Self
-consciousness of Spirit, has not appeared in those forms.
Even at the plane of Consciousness, viz. when this takes the shape of "Understan
ding", there is a consciousness of the supersenuous, of the inner being of objec
tive existence. But the supersensible, the eternal, or whatever we care to call
it, is devoid of selfhood. It is merely, to begin with, something universal, whi
ch is a long way still from being spirit knowing itself as spirit.
Then there was Self-consciousness, which came to its final shape in the "unhappy
consciousness"; that was merely the pain and sorrow of spirit wrestling to get
itself out into objectivity once more, but not succeeding. The unity of individu
al self-consciousness with its unchangeable Being, which is what this stage arri
ves at, remains, in consequence, a "beyond", something afar off.
The immediate existence of Reason (which we found arising out of that state of s
orrow), and the special shapes which reason assumes, have no form of religion, b
ecause self-consciousness in the case of reason knows itself or looks for itself
in the direct and immediate present.
On the other hand, in the world of the Ethical Order, we met with a type of reli
gion, the religion of the nether world. This is belief in the fearful and unknow
n darkness of Fate, and in the Eumenides of the spirit of the departed: the form
er being pure negation taking the form of universality, the latter the same nega
tion but in the form of individuality. Absolute Being is, then, in the latter sh
ape no doubt the self and is present, as there is no other way for the self to b
e except present. But the individual self is this individual ghostly shade, whic
h keeps the universal element, Fate, separated from itself. It is indeed a shade
, a ghost, a cancelled and superseded particular, and so a universal self. But t
hat negative meaning has not yet turned round into this latter positive signific
ance, and hence the self, so cancelled and transcended, still directly means at
the same time this particular being, this insubstantial reality. Fate, however,
without self remains the darkness of night devoid of consciousness, which never
comes to draw distinctions within itself, and never attains the clearness of sel
f-knowledge.
This belief in a necessity that produces nothingness, this belief in the nether
world, becomes belief in Heaven, because the self which has departed must be uni
ted with its universal nature, must unfold what it contains in terms of this uni
versality, and thus become clear to itself. This kingdom of belief, however, we
saw unfold its content merely in the element of reflective thought (Denken), wit
hout bringing out the true notion (Begriff); and we saw it, on that account, per
ish in its final fate, viz. in the religion of enlightenment. Here in this type
of religion, the supersensible beyond, which we found in "understanding", is rei
nstate, but in such a way that self-consciousness rests and feels satisfied in t
he mundane present, not in the "beyond", and knows the supersensible beyond, voi
d and empty, unknowable, and devoid of all terrors, neither as a self nor as pow
er and might.
In the religion of Morality it is at last reinstated that Absolute Reality is a
positive content; but that content is bound up with the negativity characteristi
c of the enlightenment. The content is an objective being, which . at the same t
ime taken back into the self, and remains is there enclosed, and is a content wi
th internal distinctions, while its parts are just as immediately negated as the
y are posited. The final destiny, however, which absorbs this contradictory proc
ess, is the self conscious of itself as the controlling necessity (Schicksal) of
what is essential and actual.
Spirit knowing its self is in religion primarily and immediately its own pure se
lf-consciousness. Those modes of it above considered--"objective spirit", "spiri
t estranged from itself" and "spirit certain of its self"--together constitute w
hat it is in its condition of consciousness, the state in which, being objective
ly opposed to its own world, it does not therein apprehend and consciously posse
ss itself. But in Conscience it brings itself as well as its objective world as
a whole into subjection, as also its idea(1) and its various specific conception
s;(2)and is now self-consciousness at home with itself. Here spirit, represented
as an object, has the significance for itself of being Universal Spirit, which
contains within itself all that is ultimate and essential and all that is concre
te and actual; yet is not in the form of freely subsisting actuality, or of the
apparent independence of external nature. It has a shape, no doubt, the form of
objective being, in that it is object of its own consciousness; but because this
consciousness is affirmed in religion with the essential character of being sel
f-consciousness, the form or shape assumed is one perfectly transparent to itsel
f; and the reality spirit contains is enclosed in it, or transcended in it, just
in the same way as when we speak of "all reality"; it is "all reality", but uni
versal reality only in the sense of an object of thought.
Since, then, in religion, the peculiar characteristic of what is properly consci
ousness of spirit does not have the form of detached independent otherness, the
existence of spirit is distinct from its self-consciousness, and its actual real
ity proper falls outside religion. There is no doubt one spirit in both, but its
consciousness does not embrace both together; and religion appears as a part of
existence, of acting, and of striving, whose other part is the life lived withi
n spirit's own actual world. As we now know that spirit in its own world and spi
rit conscious of itself as spirit, i.e. spirit in the sphere of religion, are th
e same, the completion of religion consists in the two forms becoming identical
with one another: not merely in its reality being grasped and embraced by religi
on, but conversely--it, as spirit conscious of itself, becomes actual to itself,
and real object of its own consciousness.
So far as spirit in religion presents itself to itself, it is indeed consciousne
ss, and the reality enclosed within it is the shape and garment in which it clot
hes its idea of itself. The reality, however, does not in this presentation get
proper justice done to it, that is to say, it does not get to be an independent
and free objective existence and not merely a garment. And conversely, because t
hat reality lacks within itself its completion, it is a determinate shape or for
m, which does not attain to what it ought to reveal, viz. spirit conscious of it
self. That spirit's shape might express spirit itself, the shape would have to b
e nothing else than spirit, and spirit would have to appear to itself, or to be
actual, as it is in its own essential being. Only thereby, too, would be attaine
d--what may seem to demand the opposite--that the object of its consciousness ha
s, at the same time, the form of free and independent reality. But only spirit w
hich is object to itself in the shape of Absolute Spirit, is as much aware of be
ing a free and independent reality as it remains therein conscious of itself.
Since in the first instance self-consciousness and con- sciousness simply, relig
ion, and spirit as it is externally in its world, or the objective existence of
spirit, are distinct, the latter consists in the totality of spirit, so far as i
ts moments are separated from each other and each is set forth by itself. These
moments, however, are consciousness, self-consciousness, reason, and spirit--spi
rit, that is, qua immediate spirit, which is not yet consciousness of spirit. Th
eir totality, taken all together, constitutes the mundane existence of spirit as
a whole; spirit as such contains the previous separate embodiments in the form
of universal determinations of its own being, in those moments just named. Relig
ion presupposes that these have completely run their course, and is their simple
totality, their absolute Self and soul.
The course which these traverse is, moreover, in relation to religion, not to be
pictured as a temporal sequence. It is only spirit in its entirety that is in t
ime, and the shapes assumed, which are specific embodiments Of the whole of spir
it as such, present themselves in a sequence one after the other. For it is only
the whole which properly has reality, and hence the form of pure freedom relati
vely to anything else, the form which takes expression as time. But the moments
of the whole, consciousness, self-consciousness, reason, and spirit, have, becau
se they are moments, no existence separate from one another.
Just as spirit was distinct from its moments, we have further, in the third plac
e, to distinguish from these moments their specific individuated character. Each
of those moments, in itself, we saw broke up again in a process of development
all its own, and took various shapes and forms: as e.g. in the case of conscious
ness, sensuous certainty and perception were distinct phases. These latter aspec
ts fall apart in time from one another, and belong to a specific particular whol
e. For spirit descends from its universality to assume an individual form throug
h specific determination. This determination, or mediate element, is consciousne
ss, self-consciousness, and so on. But individuality is constituted just bv the
forms assumed by these moments. Hence these exhibit and reveal spirit in its ind
ividuality or concrete reality, and are distinguished in time from one another.
though in such a way that the succeeding retains within it the preceding.
While, therefore, religion is the completion of the life of spirit, its final an
d complete expression, into which, as being their ground, its individual moments
, consciousness, self-consciousness, reason, and spirit, return and have returne
d, they, at the same time, together constitute the objectively existing realizat
ion of spirit in its totality; as such spirit is real only as the moving process
of these aspects which it possesses, a process of distinguishing them and retur
ning back into itself. In the process of these universal moments is contained th
e development of religion generally. Since, however, each of these attributes wa
s set forth and presented, not only in the way it in general determines itself,
but as it is in and for itself, i.e. as, within its own being, running its cours
e as a distinct whole--there has thus arisen not merely the development of relig
ion generally; those independently complete processes pursued by the individual
phases or moments of spirit contain at the same time the determinate forms of re
ligion itself. Spirit in its entirety, spirit in religion, is once more the proc
ess from its immediacy to the attainment of a knowledge of what it implicitly or
immediately, is; and is the process of attaining the state where the shape and
form, in which it appears as an object for its own consciousness, will be perfec
tly adequate to its essential nature, and where it will behold itself as it is.
In this development of religion, then, spirit itself assumes definite shapes, wh
ich constitute the distinc- tions involved in this process: and at the same time
a determinate or specific form of religion has likewise an actual spirit of a s
pecific character. Thus, if consciousness, self-consciousness, reason, and spiri
t belong to self-knowing spirit in general, in a similar way the specific shapes
, which self-knowing spirit assumes, appropriate and adopt the distinctive forms
which were specially developed in the case of each of the stages--consciousness
, self-consciousness, reason, and spirit. The determinate shape, assumed in a gi
ven case by religion, appropriates, from among the forms belonging to each of it
s moments, the one adapted to it, and makes this its actual spirit. Any one dete
rminate attitude of religion pervades and permeates all aspects of its actual ex
istence, and stamps them with this common feature.
In this way the arrangement now assumed by the forms and shapes which have thus
far appeared, is different from the way they appeared in their own order. On thi
s point we may note shortly at the outset what is necessary. In the series we co
nsidered, each moment, exhaustively elaborating its entire content, evolved and
formed itself into a single whole within its own peculiar principle. And knowled
ge was the inner depth, or the spirit, wherein the moments, having no subsistenc
e of their own, possessed their substance. This substance, however, has now at l
ength made its appearance; it is the deep life of spirit certain of itself; it d
oes not allow the principle belonging to each individual form to get isolated, a
nd become a whole within itself: rather it collects all these moments into its o
wn content, keeps them together, and advances within this total wealth of its co
ncrete actual spirit; while all its particular moments take into themselves and
receive together in common the like determinate character of the whole. This spi
rit certain of itself and the process it goes through-this is their true reality
, the independent self-subsistence, which belongs to each individually.
Thus while the previous linear series in its advance marked the retrogressive st
eps in it by knots, but thence went forward again in one linear stretch, it is n
ow, as it were, broken at these knots, these universal moments, and falls asunde
r into many lines, which, being bound together into a single bundle, combine at
the same time symmetrically, so that the similar distinctions, in which each sep
arately took shape within its own sphere, meet together.
For the rest, it is self-evident from the whole argument, how this co-ordination
of universal directions, just mentioned, is to be understood; so that it become
s superfluous to remark that these distinctions are to be taken to mean essentia
lly and only moments of the process of development, not parts. In the case of ac
tual concrete spirit they are attributes of its substance; in religion, on the o
ther hand, they are only predicates of the subject. In the same way, indeed, all
forms in general are, in themselves or for us, contained in spirit and containe
d in every spirit. But the main point of importance, in dealing with its reality
, is solely what determinate character it has in its consciousness, in which spe
cific character it has expressed its self, or in what shape it knows its essenti
al nature.
The distinction made between actual spirit and that same spirit which knows itse
lf as spirit, or between itself qua consciousness and qua self-consciousness, is
transcended and done away with in the case where spirit knows itself in its rea
l truth. Its consciousness and its self-consciousness have come to terms. But, a
s religion is here to begin with and immediately, this distinction has not yet r
everted to spirit. It is merely the conception, the principle, of religion that
is established at first. In this the essential element is self-consciousness, wh
ich is conscious of being all truth, and which contains all reality within that
truth. This self-consciousness, being consciousness [and so aware of an object],
has itself for its object. Spirit, which knows itself in the first instance imm
ediately, is thus to itself spirit in the form of immediacy; and the specific ch
aracter of the shape in which it appears to itself is that of pure simple being.
This being, this bare existence, has indeed a filling drawn neither from sensat
ion or manifold matter, nor from any other one-sided moments, purposes, and dete
rminations; its filling is solely spirit, and is known by itself to be all truth
and reality. Such filling is in this first form not in adequate agreement with
its own shape, spirit qua ultimate essence is not in accord with its consciousne
ss. It is actual only as Absolute Spirit, when it is also for itself in its trut
h as it is in its certainty of itself, or, when the extremes, into which spirit
qua consciousness falls, exist for one another in spiritual shape. The embodimen
t adopted by spirit qua object of its own consciousness, remains filled by the c
ertainty of spirit, and this self-certainty constitutes its substance. Through t
his content, the degrading of the object to bare objectivity, to the form of som
ething that negates self-consciousness, disappears. The immediate unity of spiri
t with itself is the fundamental basis, or pure consciousness, inside which cons
ciousness breaks up into its constituent elements [viz. an object with subject o
ver against it]. In this way, shut up within its pure self-consciousness, spirit
does not exist in religion as the creator of a nature in general; rather what i
t produces in the course of this process are its shapes qua spirits, which toget
her constitute all that it can reveal when it is completely manifested. And this
process itself is the development of its perfect and complete actuality through
the individual aspects thereof, i.e. through its imperfect modes of realization
.
The first realization of spirit is just the principle and notion of religion its
elf-religion as immediate and thus Natural Religion. Here spirit knows itself as
its object in a "natural" or immediate shape. The second realization, is, howev
er, necessarily that of knowing itself in the shape of transcended and supersede
d natural existence, i.e. in the form of self. This therefore is Religion in the
form of Art. For the shape it adopts is raised to the form of self through the
productive activity of consciousness, by which this consciousness beholds in its
object its own action, i.e. sees the self. The third realization, finally, canc
els the one-sidedness of the first two: the self is as much as immediate self as
the immediacy is a self. If spirit in the first is in the form of consciousness
, and in the second in that of self-consciousness, it is in the third in the for
m of the unity of both; it has then the shape of what is completely self-contain
ed (An-und-Fersichseyns); and in being thus presented as it is in and for itself
, this is Revealed Religion. Although spirit, however, here reaches its true sha
pe, the very shape assumed and the conscious presentation are an aspect or phase
still unsurmounted; and from this spirit has to pass over into the life of the
Notion, in order therein completely to resolve the form of objectivity, in the n
otion which embraces within itself this its own opposite.
It is then that spirit has grasped its own principle, the notion of itself, as s
o far only we [who analyse spirit] have grasped it; and its shape, the element o
f its existence, in being the notion, is then spirit itself.
1. Vorstellung.
2. Begriff.

A. NATURAL RELIGION

SPIRIT knowing spirit is consciousness of itself; and is to itself in the form o

f objectivity. It is; and is at the same time self-existence (Fersichsein). It i
s for itself; it is the aspect of self-consciousness, and is so in contrast to t
he aspect of its consciousness, the aspect by which it relates itself to itself
as object. In its consciousness there is the opposition and in consequence the d
eterminateness of the form in which it appears to itself and knows itself. It is
with this determinateness of shape that we have alone to do in considering reli
gion; for its essential unembodied principle, its pure notion, has already come
to light. The distinction of consciousness and self-consciousness, however, fall
s at the same time within this notion. The form or shape of religion does not co
ntain the existence of spirit in the sense of its being nature detached and free
from thought, nor in the sense of its being thought detached from existence. Th
e shape assumed by religion is existence contained and preserved in thought as w
ell as a something thought which is consciously existent.
It is by the determinate character of this form, in which spirit knows itself, t
hat one religion is distinguished from another. But we have at the same time to
note that the systematic exposition of this knowledge about itself, in terms of
this individual specific character, does not as a fact exhaust the whole nature
of an actual religion. The series of different religions, which will come before
us, just as much sets forth again merely the different aspects of a single reli
gion, and indeed of every single religion, and the imagery, the conscious ideas,
which seem to mark off one concrete religion from another, make their appearanc
e in each. All the same the diversity must also be looked at as a diversity of r
eligion. For while spirit lives in the dis- tinction of its consciousness and it
s self-consciousness, the process it goes through finds its goal in the transcen
dence of this fundamental distinction and in giving the form of self-consciousne
ss to the given shape which is object of consciousness. This distinction, howeve
r, is not eo ipso transcended by the fact that the shapes, which that consciousn
ess contains, have also the moments of self in them, and that God is presented a
s self-consciousness. The consciously presented self is not the actual concrete
self. In order that this, like every other more specific determination of the sh
ape, may in truth belong to this shape, it has partly to be put into this shape
by the action of self-consciousness, and partly the lower determination must sho
w itself to be cancelled and transcended and comprehended by the higher. For wha
t is consciously presented (vorgestellt) only ceases to be something "presented"
and alien to spirit's knowledge, by the self having produced it, and so viewing
the determination of the object as its own determination, and hence seeing itse
lf in that object. By this operation, the lower determination [that of being som
ething "presented"] has at once vanished; for doing anything is a negative proce
ss which is carried through at the expense of something else. So far as that low
er determination still continues to appear, it has withdrawn into the condition
of unessentiality: just as, on the other hand, where the lower still predominate
s, while the higher is also present, the one coexists in a self-less way alongsi
de of the other. While, therefore, the various ideas falling within a single rel
igion no doubt exhibit the whole course taken by the forms of religion, the char
acter of each is determined by the particular unity of consciousness and self-co
nsciousness; that is to say, by the fact that the self-consciousness has taken i
nto itself the determination belonging to the object of consciousness, has, by i
ts own action, made that determination altogether its own, and knows it to be th
e essential one as compared with the others.
The truth of belief in a given determination of the religious spirit shows itsel
f in this, that the actual spirit is constituted after the same manner as the sh
ape in which spirit beholds itself in religion; thus e.g. the incarnation of God
, which is found in Eastern religion, has no truth, because the concrete actual
spirit of this religion is without the reconciliation this principle implies.
It is not in place here to return from the totality of specific determinations b
ack to the individual determination, and show in what shape the plenitude of all
the others is contained within it and within its particular form of religion. T
he higher form, when put back under a lower, is deprived of its significance for
self-conscious spirit, belongs to spirit merely in a superficial way, and is fo
r it at the level of presentation. The higher form has to be considered in its o
wn peculiar significance, and dealt with where it is the principle of a particul
ar religion, and is certified and approved by its actual spirit.
a. GOD AS LIGHT
SPIRIT, as the absolute Being,, which is self-consciousness-or the self-consciou
s absolute Being, which is all truth and knows all reality as itself--is, to beg
in with, merely its notion and principle in contrast to the reality which it giv
es itself in the process of its conscious activity. And this notion is, as contr
asted with the clear daylight of that explicit development, the darkness and nig
ht of its inner life; in contrast to the existence of its various moments as ind
ependent forms or shapes, this notion is the creative secret of its birth. This
secret has its revelation within itself; for existence has its necessary place i
n this notion, because this notion is spirit knowing itself, and thus possesses
in its own nature the moment of being consciousness and of presenting itself obj
ectively. We have here the pure ego, which in its externalization, in itself qua
universal object, has the certainty of self; in other words, this object is, fo
r the ego, the interfusion of all thought and all reality.
When the first and immediate cleavage is made within self-knowing Absolute Spiri
t, its shape assumes that character which belongs to immediate consciousness or
to sense-certainty. It beholds itself in the form of being; but not being in the
sense of what is without spirit, containing only the contingent qualities of se
nsation--the kind of being that belongs to sense-certainty. Its being is filled
with the content of spirit. It also includes within it the form which we. found
in the case of immediate self-consciousness, the form of lord and master,(3) in
regard to the self-consciousness of spirit which retreats from its object.
This being, having as its content the notion of spirit, is, then, the shape of s
pirit in relation simply to itself - the form of having no special shape at all.
In virtue of this characteristic, this shape is the pure all-containing, all-su
ffusing Light of the Sunrise, which preserves itself in its formless indetermina
te substantiality. Its counterpart, its otherness, is the equally simple negativ
e - Darkness. The process of its own externalization, its creations in the unres
isting element of its counterpart, are bursts of Light. At the same time in thei
r ultimate simplicity they are its way of becoming something for itself, and its
return from its objective existence, streams of fire consuming its embodiment.
The distinction, which it gives itself, no doubt thrives abundantly on the subst
ance of existence, and shapes itself as the diverse forms of nature. But the ess
ential simplicity of its thought rambles and roves about inconstant and inconsis
tent, enlarges its bounds to measureless extent, and its beauty heightened to sp
lendour is lost in its sublimity.(4)
The content, which this state of pure being evolves, its perceptive activity, is
, therefore, an unreal by-play on this substance which merely rises, without set
ting into itself to become subject and secure firmly its distinctions through th
e self. Its determinations are merely attributes, which do not succeed in attain
ing independence; they remain merely names of the One, called by many names. Thi
s One is clothed with the manifold powers of existence and with the shapes of re
ality, as with a soulless, selfless ornament; they are merely messengers of its
mighty power,(5) claiming no will of their own, visions of its glory, voices in
its praise.
This revel of heaving life(6) must, however, assume the character of distinctive
self-existence, and give enduring subsistence to its fleeting shapes. Immediate
being, in which it places itself over against its own consciousness, is itself
the negative destructive agency which dissolves its distinctions. It is thus in
truth the Self; and spirit therefore passes on to know itself in the form of sel
f. Pure Light scatters its simplicity as an infinity of separate forms, and pres
ents itself as an offering to self-existence, that the individual may take susta
inment to itself from its substance.
b. PLANTS AND ANIMALS AS OBJECTS OF RELIGION(7)
SELF-CONSCIOUS spirit, passing away from abstract, formless essence and going in
to itself-or, in other words, having raised its immediacy to the level of Self--
makes its simple unity assume the character of a manifold of self-existing entit
ies, and is the religion of spiritual sense-perception. Here spirit breaks up in
to an innumerable plurality of weaker and stronger, richer and poorer spirits. T
his Pantheism, which, to begin with, consists in the quiescent subsistence of th
ese spiritual atoms, passes into a process of active internal hostility. The inn
ocence, which characterizes the flower and plant religions, and which is merely
the selfless idea of Self, gives way to the seriousness of struggling warring li
fe, to the guilt of animal religions; the quiescence and impotence of contemplat
ive individuality pass into the destructive activity of separate self-existence.

It is of no avail to have removed the lifelessness of abstraction from the thing

s of perception, and to have raised them to the level of realities of spiritual
perception: the animation of this spiritual kingdom has death in the heart of it
, owing to the determinateness and the negativity, which overcome and trench upo
n the innocent indifference [of the various species of plants] to one another. O
wing to this determinateness and negativity, the dispersion of spirit into the m
ultiplicity of the passive plant-forms becomes a hostile process, in which the h
atred stirred up by their independent self-existence rages and consumes.
The actual self-consciousness at work in this dispersed and disintegrated spirit
, takes the form of a multitude of individualized mutually-antipathetic folk- sp
irits, who fight and hate each other to the death, and consciously accept certai
n specific forms of animals as their essential being and nature:(8) for they are
nothing else than spirits of animals, or animal lives separate and cut off from
one another, and with no universality consciously present in them.
The characteristic of purely negative independent self-existence, however, consu
mes itself in this active hatred towards one another; and through this process,
involved in its very principle, spirit enters into another shape. Independent se
lf-existence cancelled and abolished is the form of the object, a form which is
produced by the self, or rather is the self produced, the self-consuming self, i
.e. the self that becomes a "thing". The agent at work, therefore, retains the u
pper hand over these animal spirits merely tearing each other to pieces; and his
action is not merely negative, but composed and positive. The consciousness of
spirit is, thus, now the process which is above and beyond the immediate inheren
t [universal] nature, as well as transcends the abstract self-existence in isola
tion. Since the implicit inherent nature is reduced, through opposition, to the
level of a specific character, it is no longer the proper form of Absolute Spiri
t, but a reality which its consciousness finds lying over against itself as an o
rdinary existing fact and cancels; at the same time this consciousness is not me
rely this negative cancelling self-existent being, but produces its own objectiv
e idea of itself,-self-existence put forth in the form of an object. This proces
s of production is, all the same, not yet perfect production; it is a conditione
d activity, the forming of a given material.
c. THE ARTIFICER
SPIRIT, then, here takes the form of the artificer, and its action, when produci
ng itself as object, but without having as yet grasped the thought of itself, is
an instinctive kind of working, like bees building their cells.
The first form, because immediate, has the abstract character of "understanding"
, and the work accomplished is not yet in itself endued with spirit. The crystal
s of Pyramids and Obelisks, simple combinations of straight lines with even surf
aces and equal relations of parts in which the incommensurability of roundness i
s set aside--these are the works produced by this artificer, the worker of the s
trict form. Owing to the purely abstract intelligible nature of the form, the wo
rk is not in itself its own true significance; it is not the spiritual self. Thu
s, either the works produced only receive spirit into them as an alien, departed
spirit, one that has forsaken its living suffusion and permeation with reality,
and, being itself dead, enters into these lifeless crystals; or they take up an
external relation to spirit as something which is itself there externally and n
ot as spirit--they are related to it as to the Orient Light, which throws its si
gnificance on them.
The separation of elements from which spirit as artificer starts--the separation
of the implicit essential nature, which becomes the material it works upon, and
independent self-existence, which is the aspect of the self-consciousness at wo
rk-this division has become objective to spirit in its work. Its further endeavo
ur has to be directed to cancelling and doing away with this separation of soul
and body; it must strive to clothe and give embodied shape to soul per se, and e
ndow the body with soul. The two aspects, in that they are brought closer to one
another, bear towards each other, in this condition, the character of ideally p
resented spirit and of enveloping shell. Spirit's oneness with itself contains t
his opposition of individuality and universality. As the work comes closer to it
self in the coming together of its aspects, there comes about thereby at the sam
e time the other fact, that the work comes closer to the self-consciousness perf
orming it, and that the latter attains in the work knowledge of itself as it tru
ly is. In this way, however, the work merely constitutes to begin with the abstr
act side of the activity of spirit, which does not yet know the content of this
activity within itself but in its work, which is a "thing". The artificer as suc
h, spirit in its entirety, has not yet appeared; the artificer is still the inne
r, hidden reality, which qua entire is present only as broken up into active sel
f-consciousness and the object it has produced.
The surrounding habitation, then, external reality, which has so far been raised
merely to the abstract form of the understanding, is worked up by the artificer
into a more animated form. The artificer employs plant life for this purpose, w
hich is no longer sacred as in the previous case of inactive impotent pantheism;
rather the artificer, who grasps himself as the self existent reality, takes th
at plant life as something to be used and degrades it to an external aspect, to
the level of an ornament. But it is not turned to use without some alteration: f
or the worker producing the self-conscious form destroys at the same time the tr
ansitoriness, inherently characteristic of the immediate existence of this life,
and brings its organic forms nearer to the more exact and more universal forms
of thought. The organic form, which, left to itself, grows and thrives in partic
ularity, being on its side subjugated by the form of thought, elevates in turn t
hese straight- lined and level shapes into more animated roundness--a blending w
hich becomes the root of free architecture.(10)
This dwelling, (the aspect of the universal element or inorganic nature of spiri
t), also includes within it now a form of individuality, which brings nearer to
actuality the spirit that was formerly separated from existence and external or
internal thereto, and thus makes the work to accord more with active self-consci
ousness. The worker lays hold, first of all, on the form of self-existence in ge
neral, on the forms of animal life. That he is no longer directly aware of himse
lf in animal life, he shows by the fact that in reference to this he constitutes
himself the productive force, and knows himself in it as being his own work, wh
ereby the animal shape at the same time is one which is superseded and becomes t
he hieroglyphic symbol of another meaning, the hieroglyph of a thought. Hence al
so this shape is no longer solely and entirely used by the worker, but becomes b
lended with the shape embodying thought, with the human form.(11) Still, the wor
k lacks the form and existence where self exists as self: it also fails to expre
ss in its very nature that it includes within itself an inner meaning; it lacks
language, the element in which the sense and meaning contained are actually pres
ent. The work done, therefore, even when quite purified of the animal aspect, an
d bearing the form and shape of self-consciousness alone, is still the silent so
undless shape, which needs the rays of the rising sun in order to have a sound w
hich, when produced by light, is even then merely noise and not speech, shows me
rely an outer self, not the inner self.(12)
Contrasted with this outer self of the form and shape, stands the other form, wh
ich indicates that it has in it an inner being. Nature, turning back into its es
sen- tial being, degrades its multiplicity of life, ever individualizing itself
and confounding itself in its own process, to the level of an unessential encasi
ng shell, which is the covering for the inner being. And as yet this inner being
is still simple darkness, the unmoved, the black formless stone.(13)
Both representations contain inwardness and existence--the two moments of spirit
: and both kinds of manifestation contain both moments at once in a relation of
opposition, the self both as inward and as outward. Both have to be united. The
soul of the statue in human form does not yet come out of the inner being, is no
t yet speech, objective existence of self which is inherently internal,--and the
inner being of multiform existence is still without voice or sound, still draws
no distinctions within itself, and is still separated from its outer being, to
which all distinctions belong. The artificer, therefore, combines both by blendi
ng the forms of nature and self-consciousness; and these ambiguous beings, a rid
dle to themselves--the conscious struggling with what has no consciousness, the
simple inner with the multiform outer, the darkness of thought mated with the cl
earness of expression--these break out into the language of a wisdom that is dar
kly deep and difficult to understand.(14)
With the production of this work, the instinctive method of working ceases, whic
h, in contrast to self-consciousness, produced a work devoid of consciousness. F
or here the activity of the artificer, which constitutes self-consciousness, com
es face to face with an inner being equally self-conscious and giving itself exp
ression. He has therein raised himself by his work up to the point where his con
scious life breaks asunder, where spirit greets spirit. In this unity of self-co
nscious spirit with itself, so far as it is aware of being embodiment and object
of its own consciousness, its blending and mingling with the unconscious state
of immediate shapes of nature become purified. These monsters in form and shape,
word and deed, are resolved and dissolved into a shape which is spiritual-an ou
ter which has entered into itself, an inner which expresses itself out of itself
and in itself,-they pass into thought, which brings forth itself, preserves the
shape and form suited to thought, and is transparent existence. Spirit is Artis
t.

B. RELIGION IN THE FORM OF ART(1)

SPIRIT has raised the shape in which it is object for its own consciousness into
the form of consciousness itself; and spirit produces such a shape for itself.
The artificer has given up the synthesizing activity, that blending of the heter
ogeneous forms of thought and nature. When the shape has gained the form of self
-conscious activity, the artificer has become a spiritual workman.
If we next ask, what the actual spirit is, which finds in the religion of art th
e consciousness of its Absolute, it turns out that this is the ethical or object
ive spirit. This spirit is not merely the universal substance of all individuals
; but when this substance is said to have, as an objective fact for actual consc
iousness, the form of consciousness, this amounts to saying that the substance,
which is individualized, is known by the individuals within it as their proper e
ssence and their own achievement. It is for them neither the Light of the World,
in whose, unity the self-existence of self-consciousness is contained only nega
tively, only transitorily, and beholds the lord and master of its reality; nor i
s it the restless waste and destruction of hostile nations; nor their subjection
to "castes", which together constitute the semblance of organization of a compl
eted whole, where, however, the universal freedom of the individuals concerned i
s wanting. Rather this spirit is a free nation, in which custom and order consti
tute the common substance of all, whose reality and existence each and every one
knows to be his own will and his own deed.
The religion of the ethical spirit, however, raises it above its actual realizat
ion, and is the return from its objectivity into pure knowledge of itself. Since
an ethically constituted nation lives in direct unity with its own substance, a
nd does not contain the principle of pure individualism of self-consciousness, t
he religion characteristic of its sphere first appears in complete form in its p
arting from its stable security. For the reality of the ethical substance rests
partly on its quiet unchangeableness as contrasted with the absolute process of
self-consciousness; and consequently on the fact that this self-consciousness ha
s not yet left its serene life of customary convention and its confident securit
y therein, and gone into itself. Partly, again, that reality rests on its organi
zation into a plurality of rights and duties, as also on its organized distribut
ion into the spheres of the various classes, each with its particular way of act
ing which co-operates to form the whole; and hence rests on the fact that the in
dividual is contented with the limitation of his existence, and has not yet gras
ped the unrestricted thought of his free self. But that serene immediate confide
nce in the substance of this ethical life turns back into trust in self and cert
ainty of self; and the plurality of rights and duties, as well as the restricted
particular action this involves, is the same dialectic process in the sphere of
the ethical life as the plurality of "things" and their various "qualities"--a
process which only comes to rest and stability in the simplicity of spirit certa
in of self
The complete fulfilment of the ethical life in free self-consciousness, and the
destined consummation (Schicksal) of the ethical world, are therefore that indiv
iduality which has entered into itself; the condition is one of absolute levity
on the part of the ethical spirit; it has dissipated and resolved into itself al
l the firmly established distinctions constituting its own stability, and the se
parate spheres of its own articulated organization and, being perfectly sure of
itself, has attained to boundless cheerfulness of heart and the freest enjoyment
of itself. This simple certainly of spirit within itself has a double meaning;
it is quiet stability and solid truth, as well as absolute unrest, and the disap
pearance of the ethical order. It turns round, however, into the latter; for the
truth of the ethical spirit lies primarily just in this substantial objectivity
and trust, in which the self does not know itself as free individual, and which
, therefore, in this inner subjectivity, in the self becoming free, falls into r
uins. Since then its trust is broken, and the substance of the nation cracked, s
pirit, which was the connecting medium of unstable extremes, has now come forwar
d as an extreme--that of self-consciousness grasping itself as essential and ult
imate. This is spirit certain within itself, which mourns over the loss of its w
orld, and now out of the purity of self produces its own essential being, raised
above actual reality.
At such an epoch art in absolute form(2) comes on the scene. At the earlier stag
e it is instinctive in its operation; its operation is steeped in existence, wor
ks its way out of existence and works right into the existent; it does not find
its substance in the free life of an ethical order, and hence, too, as regards t
he self operating does not exercise free spiritual activity.
Later on, spirit goes beyond art in order to gain its higher manifestation, viz.
that of being not merely the substance born and produced out of the self, but o
f being. in its manifestation as object, this very self; it seeks at that higher
level not merely to bring forth itself out of its own notion, but to have its v
ery notion as its shape, so that the notion and the work of art produced may kno
w each other reciprocally as one and the same.(3)
Since, then, the ethical substance has withdrawn from its objective existence in
to its pure self-conscious- ness, this is the aspect of the notion, or the activ
ity with which spirit brings itself forth as object. It is pure form, because th
e individual in ethical obedience and service has so worked off every unconsciou
s existence and every fixed determination, as the substance has itself become th
is fluid and undifferentiated essence. This form is the night in which the subst
ance was betrayed, and made itself subject. It is out of this night of pure cert
ainty of self that the ethical spirit rises again in a shape freed from nature a
nd its own immediate existence.
The existence of the pure notion into which spirit has fled from its bodily shap
e, is an individual, which spirit selects as the vessel for its sorrow. Spirit a
cts in this individual as his universal and his power, from which he suffers vio
lence, as his element of "Pathos", by having given himself over to which his sel
f-consciousness loses freedom. But that positive power belonging to the universa
l is overcome by the pure self of the individual, the negative power. This pure
activity, conscious of its inalienable force, wrestles with the unembodied essen
tial being. Becoming its master, this negative activity has turned the element o
f pathos into its own material, and given itself its content; and this unity com
es out as a work, universal spirit individualized and consciously presented.

a. THE ABSTRACT WORK OF ART

THE first work of art is, because immediate, abstract and particular. As regards
itself, it has to move away from this immediate and objective phase towards sel
f-consciousness, while, on the other side, the latter for itself endeavours in t
he "cult" to do away with the distinction, which it at first gives itself in con
trast to its own spirit, and by so doing to produce a work of art inherently end
owed with life.
The first way in which the artistic spirit keeps as far as possible removed from
each other its shape and its active consciousness, is immediate in character--t
he shape assumed is there as a "thing" in general. It breaks up into the distinc
tion of individualness which has the shape of the self, and universality, which
presents the inorganic nature in reference to the shape adopted, and is its envi
ronment and habitation. This shape assumed obtains its pure form, the form belon
ging to spirit, by the whole being raised into the sphere of the pure notion. It
is not the crystal, belonging as we saw to the level of understanding, a form w
hich housed and covered a lifeless element, or is shone upon externally by a sou
l. Nor, again, is it that commingling of
the forms of nature and thought, which first arose in connexion with plants, tho
ught's activity here being still an imitation. Rather the notion strips off the
remnant of root, branches, and leaves, still clinging to the forms, purifies the
forms, and makes them into figures in which the crystal's straight lines and su
rfaces are raised into incommensurable relations, so that the animation of the o
rganic is taken up into the abstract form of understanding, and, at the same tim
e, its essential nature-incommensurability-is preserved for understanding.
The indwelling god, however, is the black stone extracted from the animal encase
ment,(1) and suffused with the light of consciousness. The human form strips off
the animal character with which it was mixed up. The animal form is for the god
merely an accidental vestment; the animal appears alongside its true form,(2) a
nd has no longer a value on its own account, but has sunk into being a significa
nt sign of something else, has become a mere symbol. By that very fact, the form
assumed by the god in itself casts off even the restrictions of the natural con
ditions of animal existence, and hints at the internal arrangements of organic l
ife melted down into the surface of the form, and pertaining only to this surfac
e.
The essential being of the god, however, is the unity of the universal existence
of nature and of self-conscious spirit which in its actuality appears confronti
ng the former. At the same time, being in the first instance an individual shape
, its existence is one of the elements of nature, just as its self-conscious act
uality is a particular national spirit.(3) But the former is, in this unity, tha
t element reflected back into spirit, nature made transparent by thought and uni
ted with self-conscious life. The form of the gods retains, therefore, within it
its nature element as something transcended, as a shadowy, obscure memory. The
utter chaos and confused struggle amongst the elements existing free and detache
d from each other, the non-ethical disordered realm of the Titans, is vanquished
and banished to the outskirts of self-transparent reality, to the cloudy bounda
ries of the world which finds itself in the sphere of spirit and is there at pea
ce. These ancient gods, first-born children of the union of Light with Darkness,
Heaven, Earth, Ocean, Sun, earth's blind typhonic Fire, and so on, are supplant
ed by shapes, which do but darkly recall those earlier titans, and which are no
longer things of nature, but clear ethical spirits of self-conscious nations.
This simple shape has thus destroyed within itself the dispeace of endless indiv
iduation, the individuation both in the life of nature, which operates with nece
ssity only qua universal essence, but is contingent in its actual existence and
process; and also in the life of a nation, which is scattered and broken into pa
rticular spheres of action and into individual centres of self-consciousness, an
d has an existence manifold in action and meaning. All this individuation the si
mplicity of this form has abolished, and brought together into an individuality
at peace with itself. Hence the condition of unrest stands contrasted with this
form; confronting quiescent individuality, the essential reality, stands self-co
nsciousness, which, being its source and origin, has nothing left over for itsel
f except to be pure activity. What belongs to the substance, the artist imparted
entirely to his work; to himself, however, as a specific individuality he gave
in his work no reality. He could only confer completeness on it by relinquishing
his particular nature, divesting himself of his own being, and rising to the ab
straction of pure action.
In this first and immediate act of production, the separation of the work and hi
s self-conscious activity is not yet healed again. The work is, therefore, not b
y itself really an animated thing; it is a whole only when its process of coming
to be is taken along with it. The obvious and common element in the case of a w
ork of art, that it is produced in consciousness and is made by the hand of man,
is the moment of the notion existing qua notion, and standing in contrast to th
e work produced. And if this notion, qua the artist or spectator, is unselfish e
nough to declare the work of art to be per se absolutely animated, and to forget
 himself qua agent or onlooker, then, as against this, the notion of spirit has
to be insisted on; spirit cannot dispense with the moment of being conscious of
itself. This moment, however, stands in contrast to the work, because spirit, in
this its primary disruption, gives the two sides their abstract and specificall
y contrasted characteristics of "doing" something and of being a "thing"; and th
eir return to the unity they started from has not yet come about.
The artist finds out, then, in his work, that he did not produce a reality like
himself. No doubt there comes back to him from his work a consciousness in the s
ense that an admiring multitude honours it as the spirit, which is their own tru
e nature. But this way of animating his work, since it renders him his self-cons
ciousness merely in the way of admiration, is rather a confession to the artist
that the animated work is not on the same level as himself. Since his self comes
back to him in the form of gladness in general, he does not find therein the pa
in of his self-discipline and the pain of production, nor the exertion and strai
n of his own toil. People may, moreover, judge the work, or bring it offerings a
nd gifts, or endue it with their consciousness in whatever way they like--if the
y with their knowledge set themselves over it, he knows how much more his act is
than what they understand and say; if they put themselves beneath it, and recog
nize in it their own dominating essential reality, he knows himself as the maste
r of this.
The work of art hence requires another element for its existence; God requires a
nother way of going forth than this, in which, out of the depths of his creative
night, he drops into the opposite, into externality, to the character of a "thi
ng" with no self-consciousness. This higher element is that of Language-a way of
existing which is directly self-conscious existence. When individual self-consc
iousness exists in that way, it is at the same time directly a form of universal
contagion; complete isolation of independent self-existent selves is at once fl
uent continuity and universally communicated unity of the many selves; it is the
soul existing as soul. The god, then, which takes language as its medium of emb
odiment, is the work of art inherently animated, endowed with a soul, a work whi
ch directly in its existence contains the pure activity which was apart from and
in contrast to the god when existing as a "thing" In other words, self -conscio
usness, when its essential being becomes objective, remains in direct unison wit
h itself. It is, when thus at home with itself in its essential nature, pure tho
ught or devotion, whose inwardness gets at the same time express existence in th
e Hymn. The hymn keeps within it the individuality of self-consciousness, and th
is individual character is at the same time perceived to be there universal. Dev
otion, kindled in every one, is a spiritual stream which in all the manifold sel
f-conscious units is conscious of itself as one and the same function in all ali
ke and a simple state of being. Spirit, being this universal self-consciousness
of every one, holds in a single unity its pure inwardness as well as its objecti
ve existence for others and the independent self-existence of the individual uni
ts.
This kind of language is distinct from another way God speaks, which is not that
of universal self-consciousness. The Oracle, both in the case of the god of the
religions of art as well as of the preceding religions, is the necessary and th
e first form of divine utterance. For God's very principle implies that God is a
t once the essence of nature and of spirit, and hence has not merely natural but
spiritual existence as well. In so far as this moment is merely implied as yet
in God's principle and is not realized in religion, the language used is, for th
e religious self-consciousness, the speech of an alien and external self-conscio
usness. The self-consciousness which remains alien and foreign to its religious
communion, is not yet there in the way its essential principle requires it shoul
d be. The self is simple self-existence, and thereby is altogether universal sel
f-existence; that self, however, which is cut off from the self-consciousness of
the communion, is primarily a mere individual self.
The content of this its own peculiar and individual form of speech results from
the general determinate character which the Absolute Spirit is affirmed to have
in its religion as such. Thus the universal spirit of the Sunrise, which has not
yet particularized its existence, utters about the Absolute equally simple and
universal statements, whose substantial content is sublime in the simplicity of
its truth, but at the same time appears, because of this universality, trivial t
o the self-consciousness developing further.
The further developed self, which advances to being distinctively for itself, ri
ses above the pure "pathos" of [unconscious] substance, gets the mastery over th
e objectivity of the Light of the rising Sun, and knows that simplicity of truth
to be the inherent reality (das Ansichseyende) which does not possess the form
of contingent existence through an utterance of an alien self, but is the sure a
nd unwritten law of the gods, a law that "lives for ever, and no man knows what
time it came".
As the universal truth, revealed by the "Light" of the world, has here returned
into what is within or what is beneath, and has thus got rid of the form of cont
ingent appearance; so too, on the other hand, in the religion of art, because Go
d's shape has taken on consciousness and hence individuality in general, the pec
uliar utterance of God, who is the spirit of an ethically constituted nation, is
the Oracle, which knows its special circumstances and situation, and announces
what is serviceable to its interests. Reflective thought, however, claims for it
self the universal truths enun- ciated, because these are known as the essential
inherent reality of the nation's life; and the utterance of them is thus for su
ch reflexion no longer a strange and alien speech, but is its very own. Just as
that wise man of old(4) searched in his own thought for what was worthy and good
, but left it to his "Daimon" to find out and decide the petty contingent conten
t of what he wanted to know--whether it was good for him to keep company with th
is or that person, or good for one of his friends to go on a journey, and such l
ike unimportant things; in the same way the universal consciousness draws the kn
owledge about the contingent from birds, or trees, or fermenting earth, the stea
m from which deprives the self-conscious mind of its sanity of judgment. For wha
t is accidental is not the object of sober reflexion, and is extraneous; and hen
ce the ethical consciousness lets itself, as if by a throw of the dice, settle t
he matter in a manner that is similarly unreflective and extraneous. If the indi
vidual, by his understanding, determines on a certain course, and selects, after
consideration, what is useful for him, it is the specific nature of his particu
lar character which is the ground of this self-determination. This basis is just
what is contingent; and that, knowledge which his understanding supplies as to
what is useful for the individual, is hence just such a knowledge as that of "or
acles" or of the "lot"; only that he who questions the oracle or lot, thereby sh
ows the ethical sentiment of indifference to what is accidental, while the forme
r, on the contrary, treats the inherently contingent as an essential concern of
his thought and knowledge. Higher than both, however, is to make careful reflexi
on the oracle for contingent action, but yet to recognize that this very act ref
lected on is something contingent, because it refers to what is opportune and ha
s a relation to what is particular.
The true self-conscious existence, which spirit receives in the form of speech,
which is not the utterance of an alien and so accidental, i.e. not universal, se
lf-consciousness, is the work of art which we met with before. It stands in cont
rast to the statue, which has the character of a "thing". As the statue is exist
ence in a state of rest, the other is existence in a state of transience. In the
case of the former, objectivity is set free and is without the immediate presen
ce of a self of its own; in the latter, on the other hand, objectivity is too mu
ch confined within the self, attains insufficiently to definite embodiment, and
is, like time, no longer- there just as soon as it is there.
The religious Cult constitutes the process of the two sides--a process in which
the divine embodiment in motion within the pure feeling-element of self-consciou
sness, and its embodiment at rest in the element of thinghood, reciprocally aban
don the different character each possesses, and the unity, which is the underlyi
ng principle of their being, becomes an existing fact. Here in the Cult, the sel
f gives itself a consciousness of the Divine Being descending from its remotenes
s into it, and this Divine Being, which was formerly the unreal and merely objec
tive, thereby receives the proper actuality of self-consciousness.
This principle of the Cult is essentially contained and present already in the f
low of the melody of the Hymn. These hymns of devotion are the way the self obta
ins immediate pure satisfaction through and within itself. It is the soul purifi
ed, which, in the purity it thus attains, is immediately and only absolute Being
, and is one with absolute Being. The soul, because of its abstract character, i
s not consciousness distinguishing its object from itself, and is thus merely th
e night of the object's existence and the place prepared for its shape. The abst
ract Cult, therefore, raises the self into being this pure divine element. The s
oul fulfils the attainment of this purity in a conscious way. Still the soul is
not yet the self, which has descended to the depths of its being, and knows itse
lf as evil. It is something that merely is, a soul, which cleanses its exterior
with the washing of water, and robes it in white, while its innermost traverses
the imaginatively presented path of labour, punishment, and reward, the way of s
piritual discipline in general, of relinquishing its particularity--the road by
which it reaches the mansions and the fellowship of the blest.
This ceremonial cult is, in its first form, merely in secret, i.e. is a fulfilme
nt accomplished merely in idea, and unreal in fact. It has to become a real act,
for an unreal act is a contradiction in terms. Consciousness proper thereby rai
ses itself to the level of its pure self-consciousness. The essential Being has
in it the significance of a free object; through the actual cult this object tur
ns back into the self; and in so far as, in pure consciousness, it has the signi
ficance of absolute Being dwelling in its purity beyond actual reality, this Bei
ng descends, through this mediating process of the cult, from its universality i
nto individual form, and thus combines and unites with actual reality.
The way the two sides make their appearance in the act is of such a character th
at the self-conscious aspect, so far as it is actual consciousness, finds the ab
solute Being manifesting itself as actual nature. On the one hand, nature belong
s to self-consciousness as its possession and property, and stands for what has
no existence per se. On the other hand, nature is its proper immediate reality a
nd particularity, which is equally regarded as not essential, and is superseded.
At the same time, that external nature has the opposite significance for its pu
re consciousness--viz. the significance of being the inherently real, for which
the self sacrifices its own [relative] unreality, just as, conversely, the self
sacrifices the unessential aspect of nature to itself. The act is thereby a spir
itual movement, because it is this double-sided process of cancelling the abstra
ction of absolute Being (which is the way devotion determines the object), and m
aking it something concrete and actual, and, on the other hand, of cancelling th
e actual (which is the way the agent determines the object and the self acting),
and raising it into universality.
The practice of the religious Cult begins, therefore, with the pure and simple "
offering up" or "surrender" of a possession, which the owner, apparently without
any profit whatsoever to himself, pours away or lets rise up in smoke. By so do
ing he renounces before the absolute Being of his pure consciousness all possess
ion and right of property and enjoyment thereof; renounces personality and the r
eversion of his action to his self; and instead, reflects the act into the unive
rsal, into the absolute Being rather than into himself. Conversely, however, the
objective ultimate Being too is annihilated in that very process. The animal of
fered up is the symbol of a god; the fruits consumed are the actual living Ceres
and Bacchus. In the former die the powers of the upper law the [Olympians] whic
h has blood and actual life, in the latter the powers of the lower law [the Furi
es] which possesses in bloodless form secret and crafty power.
The sacrifice of the divine substance, so far as it is active, belongs to the si
de of self-consciousness. That this concrete act may be possible, the absolute B
eing must have from the start implicitly sacrificed itself. This it has done in
the fact that it has given itself definite existence, and made itself an individ
ual animal and fruit of the earth. The self actively sacrificing demonstrates in
actual existence, and sets before its own consciousness, this already implicitl
y completed self-renunciation on the part of absolute Being; and replaces that i
mmediate reality, which absolute Being has, by the higher, viz. that of the self
making the sacrifice. For the unity which has arisen, and which is the outcome
of transcending the singleness and separation of the two sides, is not merely ne
gative destructive fate, but has a positive significance. It is merely for the a
bstract Being of the nether world that the sacrifice offered to it is wholly sur
rendered and devoted; and, in consequence, it is only for that Being that the re
flexion of personal possession and individual self-existence back into the Unive
rsal is marked distinct from the self as such. At the same time, however, this i
s only a trifling part; and the other act of sacrifice is merely the destruction
of what cannot be used, and is really the preparation of the offered substance
for a meal, the feast that cheats the act out of its negative significance. The
person making the offering at that first sacrifice reserves the greatest share f
or his own enjoyment; and reserves from the latter sacrifice what is useful for
the same purpose. This enjoyment is the negative power which cancels the absolut
e Being as well as the singleness; and this enjoyment is, at the same time, the
positive actual reality in which the objective existence of absolute Being is tr
ansmuted into self-conscious existence, and the self has consciousness of its un
ity with its Absolute.
This cult, for the rest, is indeed an actual act, although its meaning lies for
the most part only in devotion. What pertains to devotion is not objectively pro
duced, just as the result when confined to the feeling of enjoyment(5) is robbed
of its external existence. The Cult, therefore, goes further, and replaces this
defect, in the first instance by giving its devotion an objective subsistence,
since the cult is the common task-or the individual takes for each and all to do
-which produces for the honour and glory of God a House for Him to dwell in and
adornment for His presence. By so doing, partly the external objectivity of stat
uary is cancelled; for by thus dedicating his gifts and his labours the worker m
akes God well disposed towards him and looks on his self as detached and apperta
ining to God. Partly, too, this action is not the individual labour of the artis
t; this particularity is dissolved in the universality. But it is not only the h
onour of God which is brought about, and the blessing of His countenance and fav
our is not only shed in idea and imagination on the worker; the work also has a
meaning the reverse of the first which was that of self-renunciation and of hono
ur done to what is alien and external. The Halls and Dwellings of God are for th
e use of man, the treasures preserved there are in time of need his own; the hon
our which God enjoys in his decorative adornment, is the honour and glory of the
artistic and magnanimous nation. At the festival season, the people adorn their
own dwellings, their own garments, as well as God's establishments with furnish
ings of elegance and grace. In this manner they receive a return for their gifts
from a responsive and grateful God; and receive the proofs of His favour-wherei
n the nation became bound to the God because of the work done for Him-not as a h
ope and a deferred realization, but rather, in testifying to His honour and in p
resenting gifts, the nation finds directly and at once the enjoyment of its own
wealth and adornment.

b. THE LIVING WORK OF ART

THAT nation which approaches its god in the cult of the religion of art is an et
hically constituted nation, knowing its State and the acts of the State to be th
e will and the achievement of its own self. This universal spirit, confronting t
he self-conscious nation, is consequently not the "Light-God", which, being self
less does not contain the certainty of the individual selves, but is only their
universal ultimate Being and the dominating imperious power, wherein they disapp
ear. The religious cult of this simple unembodied ultimate Being gives back, the
refore, to its votaries in the main merely this: that they are the nation of the
ir god. It secures for them merely their stable subsistence, and their simple su
bstance as a whole; it does not secure for them their actual self; this is indee
d rejected. For they revere their god as the empty profound, not as spirit. The
cult, however, of the religion of art, on the other hand, is without that abstra
ct simplicity of the absolute Being, and therefore without its "profundity". But
that Being, which is directly at one with the self, is inherently spirit and co
mprehending truth, although not yet truth known explicitly, in other words not k
nowing the "depths" of its nature. Because this Absolute, then, implies self, co
nsciousness finds itself at home with it when it appears; and, in the cult, this
consciousness receives not merely the general title to its own subsistence, but
also its self-conscious existence within it: just as, conversely, the Absolute
has no being in a despised and outcast nation whose mere substance is acknowledg
ed, whose reality is selfless, but in the nation whose self is acknowledged as l
iving in its substance.
From the ceremonial cult, then, self-consciousness that is at peace and satisfie
d in its ultimate Being turns away, as also does the god that has entered into s
elf-consciousness as into its place of habitation. This place is, by itself, the
night of mere "substance", or its pure individuality; but no longer the straine
d and striving individuality of the artist, which has not yet reconciled itself
with its essential Being that is striving to become objective; it is the night [
substance] satisfied, having its "pathos" within it and in want of nothing, beca
use it comes back from intuition, from objectivity which is overcome and superse
ded.
This "pathos" is, by itself, the Being of the Rising Sun,(1) a Being, however, w
hich has now "set" and disappeared within itself, and has its own "setting", sel
f-consciousness, within it, and so contains existence and reality.
It has here traversed the process of its actualization. Descending from its pure
essentiality and becoming an objective force of nature and the expressions of t
his force, it is an existence relative to an other, an objective existence for t
he self by which it is consumed. The silent inner being of selfless nature attai
ns in its fruits the stage where nature, duly self-prepared and digested, offers
itself as material for the life which has a self. In its being useful for food
and drink it reaches its highest perfection. For therein it is the possibility o
f a higher existence, and comes in touch with spiritual existence. In its metamo
rphosis the spirit of the earth has developed and become partly a silently energ
izing substance, partly spiritual ferment; in the first case it is the feminine
principle, the nursing mother, in the other the masculine principle, the self-dr
iving force of self-conscious existence.
In this enjoyment, then, that orient "Light" of the world is discovered for what
it really is: Enjoyment is the Mystery of its being. For mysticism is not conce
alment of a secret, or ignorance; it consists in the self knowing itself to be o
ne with absolute Being, and in this latter, therefore, becoming revealed. Only t
he self is revealed to itself ; or what is manifest is so merely in the immediat
e certainty of itself. But it is just in such certainty that simple absolute Bei
ng has been placed by the cult. As a thing that can be used, it has not only exi
stence which is seen, felt, smelt, tasted; it is also object of desire, and, by
actually being enjoyed, it becomes one with the self, and thereby disclosed comp
letely to this self, and made manifest.
When we say of anything, "it is manifest to reason, to the heart", it is in poin
t of fact still secret, for it still lacks the actual certainty of immediate exi
stence, both the certainty regarding what is objective, and the certainty of enj
oyment, a certainty which in religion, however, is not only immediate and unrefl
ecting, but at the same time purely cognitive certainty of self.
What has thus been, through the cult, revealed to self-conscious spirit within i
tself, is simple absolute Being; and this has been revealed partly as the proces
s of passing out of its dark night of concealment up to the level of consciousne
ss, to be there its silently nurturing substance; partly, however, as the proces
s of losing itself again in nether darkness, in the self, and of waiting above m
erely with the silent yearning of motherhood. The more conspicuous moving impuls
e, however, is the variously named "Light" of the Rising Sun and its tumult of h
eaving life, which, having likewise desisted from its abstract state of being, h
as first embodied itself in objective existence in the fruits of the earth,(2) a
nd then, surrendering itself to self-consciousness,(3) attained there to its pro
per realization; and now it curvets and careers about in the guise of a crowd of
excited, fervid women, the unrestrained revel of nature in self-conscious form.
(4)
Still, however, it is only Absolute Spirit in the sense of this simple abstract
Being, not as spirit per se, that is discovered to consciousness: i.e. it is mer
ely immediate spirit, the spirit of nature. Its self-conscious life is therefore
merely the mystery of the Bread and the Wine, of Ceres and Bacchus, not of the
other, the strictly higher, gods [of Olympus], whose individuality includes, as
an essential moment, self-consciousness as such. Spirit has not yet qua self-con
scious spirit offered itself up to it, and the mystery of bread and wine is not
yet the mystery of flesh and blood.
This unstable divine revel must come to rest as an object, and the enthusiasm, w
hich did not reach consciousness, must produce a work which confronts it as the
statue stands over against the enthusiasm of the artist in the previous case,--a
work indeed that is equally complete and finished, yet not as an inherently lif
eless but as a living self. Such a cult is the Festival which man makes in his o
wn honour, though not yet imparting to a cult of that kind the significance of t
he Absolute Being; for it is the ultimate Being that is first revealed to him, n
ot yet Spirit--not such a Being as essentially takes on human form. But this cul
t provides the basis for this revelation, and lays out its moments individually
and separately. Thus we here get the abstract moment of the living embodiment of
ultimate Being, just as formerly we had the unity of both in the state of uncon
strained emotional fervency. In the place of the statue man thus puts himself as
the figure elaborated and moulded for perfectly free movement, just as the stat
ue is the perfectly free state of quiescence. If every individual knows how to p
lay the part at least of a torchbearer, one of them comes prominently forward wh
o is the very embodiment of the movement, the smooth elaboration, the fluent ene
rgy and force of all the members. He is a lively and living work of art, which m
atches strength with its beauty; and to him is given, as a reward for his force
and energy, the adornment, with which the statue was honoured [in the former typ
e of religion], and the honour of being, amongst his own nation,, instead of a g
od in stone, the highest bodily representation of what the essential Being of th
e nation is.
In both the representations, which have just come before us, there is present th
e unity of self-consciousness and spiritual Being; but they still lack their due
balance and equilibrium. In the case of the bacchic(5) revelling enthusiasm the
self is beside itself; in bodily beauty of form it is spiritual Being that is o
utside itself. The dim obscurity of consciousness in the one case and its wild s
tammering utterance, must be taken up into the transparent existence of the latt
er; and the clear but spiritless form of the latter, into the emotional inwardne
ss of the former. The perfect element in which the inwardness is as external as
the externality is inward, is once again Language. But it is neither the languag
e of the oracle, entirely contingent in its content and altogether individual in
character; nor is it the emotional hymn sung in praise of a merely individual g
od; nor is it the meaningless stammer of delirious bacchantic revelry. It has at
tained to its clear and universal content and meaning. Its content is clear, for
the artificer has passed out of the previous state of entirely substantial enth
usiasm, and worked himself into a definite shape, which is his own proper existe
nce, permeated through all its movements by self-conscious soul, and is that of
his contemporaries. Its content is universal, for in this festival, which is to
the honour of man, there vanishes the onesidedness peculiar to figures represent
ed in statues, which merely contain a national spirit, a determinate character o
f the godhead. The finely built warrior is indeed the honour and glory of his pa
rticular nation; but he is a physical or corporeal individuality in which are su
nk out of sight the expanse and the seriousness of meaning, and the inner charac
ter of the spirit which underlies the particular mode of life, the peculiar peti
tions, the needs and the customs of his nation. In relinquishing all this for co
mplete corporeal embodiment, spirit has laid aside the particular impressions, t
he special tones and chords of that nature which it, as the actual spirit of the
nation, includes. Its nation, therefore, is no longer conscious in this spirit
of its special particular character, but rather of having laid this aside, and o
f the universality of its human existence.

c. THE SPIRITUAL WORK OF ART

THE national spirits, which become conscious of their being in the shape of some
particular animal, coalesce into one single spirit.(1) Thus it is that the sepa
rate artistically beautiful national spirits combine to form a Pantheon, the ele
ment and habitation of which is Language. Pure intuition of self in the sense of
universal human nature takes, when the national spirit is actualized, this form
: the national spirit combines with the others (which with it constitute, throug
h nature and natural conditions, one people), in a common undertaking, and for t
his task builds up a collective nation, and, with that, a collective heaven. Thi
s universality, to which spirit attains in its existence, is, nevertheless, mere
ly this first universality, which, to begin with, starts from the individuality
of ethical life, has not yet overcome its immediacy, has not yet built up a sing
le state out of these separate national elements. The ethical life of an actual
national spirit rests partly on the immediate confiding trust of the individuals
in the whole of their nation, partly in the direct share which all, in spite of
differences of class, take in the decisions and acts of its government. In the
union, not in the first instance to secure a permanent order but merely for a co
mmon act, that freedom of participation on the part of each and all is for the n
once set aside. This first community of life is, therefore, an assemblage of ind
ividualities rather than the dominion and control of abstract thought, which wou
ld rob the individuals of their self-conscious share in the will and act of the
whole.
The assembly of national spirits constitutes a circle of forms and shapes, which
now embraces the whole of nature, as well as the whole ethical world. They too
are under the supreme command rather than the supreme dominion of the One. By th
emselves, they are the universal substances embodying what the self-conscious es
sential reality inherently is and does. This, however, constitutes the moving fo
rce, and, in the first instance, at least the centre, with which those universal
entities are concerned, and which, to begin with, seems to unite in a merely ac
cidental way all that they variously accomplish. But it is the return of the div
ine Being to self-consciousness which already contains the reason that self-cons
ciousness forms the centre for those divine forces, and conceals their essential
unity in the first instance under the guise of a friendly external relation bet
ween both worlds.
The same universality, which belongs to this content, attaches necessarily also
to that form of consciousness in which the content appears. It is no longer the
concrete acts of the cult; it is an action which is not indeed raised as yet to
the level of the notion, but only to that of ideas, the synthetic connexion of s
elf-conscious and external existence. The element in which these presented ideas
exist, language, is the earliest language, the Epic as such., which contains th
e universal content, at any rate universal in the sense of completeness of the w
orld presented, though not in the sense of universality of thought. The Minstrel
is the individual and actual spirit from whom, as a subject of this world, it i
s produced, and by whom it is borne. His "pathos" is not the deafening power of
nature, but Mnemosyne, Recollection, a gradually evolved inwardness, the memory
of an essential mode of being once directly present. He is the organ and instrum
ent whose content is passing away; it is not his own self which is of any accoun
t, but his muse, his universal song. What, however, is present in fact, has the
form of an inferential process, where the one extreme of universality, the world
of gods, is connected with individuality, the minstrel, through the middle term
of particularity. The middle term is the nation in its heroes, who are individu
al men like the minstrel, but only ideally presented, and thereby at the same ti
me universal like the free extreme of universality, the gods.
In this Epic, then, what is inherently established in the cult, the relation of
the divine to the human, is set forth and displayed as a whole to consciousness.
The content is an "act"(2) of the essential Being conscious of itself. Acting d
isturbs the peace of the substance, and awakens the essential Being; and by so d
oing its simple unity is divided into parts, and opened up into the manifold wor
ld of natural powers and ethical forces. The act is the violation of the peacefu
l earth; it is the trench which, vivified by the blood of the living, calls fort
h the spirits of the departed, who are thirsting for life, and who receive it in
the action of self-consciousness.(3) There are two sides to the business the un
iversal activity is concerned to accomplish: the side of the self-in virtue of w
hich it is brought about by a collection of actual nations with the prominent in
dividualities at the head of them; and the side of the universal--in virtue of w
hich it is brought about by their substantial forces. The relation of the two, h
owever, took, as we saw just now, the character of being the synthetic connexion
of universal and individual, i.e. of being a process of ideal presentation. On
this specific character depends the judgment regarding this world.
The relation of the two is, by this means, a commingling of both, which illogica
lly divides the unity of the action, and in a needless fashion throws the act fr
om one side over to the other. The universal powers have the form of individual
beings, and thus have in them the principle from which action comes; when they e
ffect anything, therefore, this seems to proceed as entirely from them and to be
as free as in the case of men. Hence both gods and men have done one and the sa
me thing. The seriousness with which those divine powers go to work is ridiculou
sly unnecessary, since they are in point of fact the moving force of the individ
ualities engaged in the acts; while the strain and toil of the latter again is a
n equally useless effort, since the former direct and manage everything. Overzea
lous mortal creatures, who are as nothing, are at the same time the mighty self
that brings into subjection the universal beings, offends the gods, and procures
for them actual reality and an interest in acting. Just as, conversely, these p
owerless gods, these impotent universal beings, who procure their sustenance fro
m the gifts of men and through men first get something to do, are the natural in
ner principle and the substance of all events, as also the ethical material, and
the "pathos" of action. If their cosmic natures first get reality and a sphere
of effectual operation through the free self of individuality, it is also the ca
se that they are the universal, which withdraws from and avoids this connexion,
remains unrestricted and unconstrained in its own character, and, by the unconqu
erable elasticity of its unity, extinguishes the atomic singleness of the indivi
dual acting and his various features, preserves itself in its purity, and dissol
ves all that is individual in the current of its own continuity.
Just as the gods fall into this contradictory relation with the antithetic natur
e having the form of self, in the same way their universality comes into conflic
t with their own specific character and the relation in which it stands to other
s. They are the eternal and resplendent individuals, who exist in their own calm
, and are removed from the changes of time and the influence of alien forces. Bu
t they are at the same time determinate elements, particular gods, and thus stan
d in relation to others. But that relation to others, which, in virtue of the op
position it involves, is one of strife, is a comic self-forgetfulness of their e
ternal nature. The determinateness they possess is rooted in the divine subsiste
nce, and in its specific limitation has the independence of the whole individual
ity; owing to this whole, their characters at once lose the sharpness of their d
istinctive peculiarity, and in their ambiguity blend together.
One purpose of their activity and their activity itself, being directed against
an "other" and so against an invincible divine force, are a contingent and futil
e piece of bravado, which passes away at once, and transforms the pretence of se
riousness in the act into a harmless, self-confident piece of sport with no resu
lt and no issue. If, however, in the nature of their divinity, the negative elem
ent, the specific determinateness of that nature, appears merely as the inconsis
tency of their activity, and as the contradiction between the purpose and result
, and if that independent self-confidence outweighs and overbalances the element
of determinateness, then, by that very fact, the pure force of negativity confr
onts and opposes their nature, and moreover with a power to which it must finall
y submit, and over which it can in no way prevail. They are the universal, and t
he positive, as against the individual self of mortals, which cannot hold out ag
ainst their power and might. But the universal self, for that reason, hovers ove
r them [the gods in Homer] and over this whole world of imagination to which the
entire content belongs; and is for them the unintelligible void of Necessity,--
a mere happening to which they stand related selfless and sorrowing, for these d
eterminate natures do not find themselves in this purely formal necessity.
This necessity, however, is the unity of the notion, a unity dominating and cont
rolling the contradictory independent subsistence of the individual moments a un
ity in which the inconsistency and fortuitousness of their action is coherently
regulated, and the sportive character of their acts receives its serious value i
n those acts themselves. The content of the world of imagination carries on its
process in the middle element [term] detached by itself, gathering round the ind
ividuality of some hero, who, however feels the strength and splendour of his li
fe broken, and mourns the early death he sees ahead of him. For individuality, f
irmly established and real in itself, is isolated and excluded to the utmost ext
reme, and severed into its moments, which have not yet found each other and unit
ed. The one individual element, the abstract unreal moment, is necessity which s
hares in the life of the mediating term just as little as does the other, the co
ncrete real individual element, the minstrel, who keeps himself outside it, and
disappears in what he imaginatively presents. Both extremes must get nearer the
content; the one, necessity, has to get filled with it, the other, the language
of the minstrel, must have a share in it. And the content formerly left to itsel
f must acquire in itself the certainty and the fixed character of the negative.
This higher language, that of Tragedy, gathers and keeps more closely together t
he dispersed and scattered moments of the inner essential world and the world of
action. The substance of the divine falls apart, in accordance with the nature
of the notion, into its shapes and forms, and their movement is likewise in conf
ormity with that notion. In regard to form, the language here ceases to be narra
tive, in virtue of the fact that it enters into the content, just as the content
ceases to be merely one that is ideally imagined. The hero is himself the spoke
sman, and the representation given brings before the audience - who are also spe
ctators - self-conscious human beings, who know their own rights and purposes, t
he power and the will belonging to their specific nature, and who know how to st
ate them. They are artists who do not express with unconscious naivete and natur
alness the merely external aspect of what they begin and what they decide upon,
as is the case in the language accompanying ordinary action in actual life; they
make the very inner being external, they prove the righteousness of their actio
n, and the "pathos" controlling them is soberly asserted and definitely expresse
d in its universal individuality, free from all accident of circumstance and the
particular peculiarities of personalities. Lastly, it is in actual human beings
that these characters get existence, human beings who impersonate the heroes, a
nd represent them in actual speech, not in the form of a narrative, but speaking
in their own person. Just as it is essential for a statue to be made by human h
ands, so is the actor essential to his mask--not as an external condition, from
which, artistically considered, we have to abstract; or so far as abstraction mu
st certainly be made, we thereby state just that art does not yet contain in it
the true and proper self.
The general ground, on which the movement of these shapes produced from the noti
on takes place, is the consciousness expressed in the imaginative language of th
e Epic, where the detail of the content is loosely spread out with no unifying s
elf. It is the commonalty in general, whose wisdom finds utterance in the Chorus
of the Elders; in the powerlessness of this chorus the generality finds its rep
resentative, because the common people itself compose merely the positive and pa
ssive material for the individuality of the government confronting it. Lacking t
he power to negate and oppose, it is unable to hold together and keep within bou
nds the riches and varied fullness of divine life; it allows each individual mom
ent to go off its own way, and in its hymns of honour and reverence praises each
individual moment as an independent god, now this god and now again another. Wh
ere, however, it detects the seriousness of the notion, and perceives how the no
tion marches onward shattering these forms as it goes along; and where it comes
to see how badly its praised and honoured gods come off when they venture on the
ground where the notion holds sway;--there it is not itself the negative power
interfering by action, but keeps itself within the abstract selfless thought of
such power, confines itself to the consciousness of alien and external destiny,
and produces the empty wish to tranquillize, and feeble ineffective talk intende
d to appease. In its terror before the higher powers, which are the immediate ar
ms of the substance; in its terror before their struggle with one another, and b
efore the simple self of that necessity, which crushes them as well as the livin
g beings bound up with them; in its compassion for these living beings, whom it
knows at once to be the same with itself--it is conscious of nothing but ineffec
tive horror of this whole process, conscious of equally helpless pity, and, as t
he end of all, the mere empty peace of resignation to necessity, whose work is a
pprehended neither as the necessary act of the character, nor as the action of t
he absolute Being within itself.
Spirit does not appear in its dissociated multiplicity on the plane of this onlo
oking consciousness [the chorus], the indifferent ground, as it were, on which t
he presentation takes place; it comes on the scene in the simple diremption of t
he notion. Its substance manifests itself, therefore, merely torn asunder into i
ts two extreme powers. These elementary universal beings are, at the same time,
self-conscious individualities--heroes who put their conscious life into one of
these powers, find therein determinateness of character, and constitute the effe
ctive activity and reality of these powers. This universal individualization des
cends again, as will be remembered, to the immediate reality of existence proper
, and is presented before a crowd of spectators, who find in the chorus their im
age and counterpart, or rather their own thought giving itself expression.
The content and movement of the spirit, which is, object to itself here, have be
en already considered as the nature and realization of the substance of ethical
life. In its form of religion spirit attains to consciousness about itself, or r
eveals itself to its consciousness in its purer form and its simpler mode of emb
odiment. If, then, the ethical substance by its very principle broke up, as rega
rds its content, into two powers--which were defined as divine and human law, la
w of the nether world and law of the upper world, the one the family, the other
state sovereignty, the first bearing the impress and character of woman, the oth
er that of man--in the same way, the previously multiform circle of gods, with i
ts wavering and unsteady characteristics, confines itself to these powers, which
owing to this feature are brought closer to individuality proper. For the previ
ous dispersion of the whole into manifold abstract forces, which appear hypostat
ized, is the dissolution of the subject which comprehends them merely as moments
in its self; and individuality is therefore only the superficial form of these
entities. Conversely, a further distinction of characters than that just named i
s to be reckoned as contingent and inherently external personality.
At the same time, the essential nature [in the case of ethical substance] gets d
ivided in its form, i.e. with respect to knowledge. Spirit when acting, appears,
qua consciousness, over against the object on which its activity is directed, a
nd which, in consequence, is determined as the negative of the knowing agent. Th
e agent finds himself thereby in the opposition of knowing and not knowing. He t
akes his purpose from his own character, and knows it to be essential ethical fa
ct; but owing to the determinateness of his character, he knows merely the one p
ower of substance; the other remains for him concealed and out of sight. The pre
sent reality, therefore, is one thing in itself, and another for consciousness.
The higher and lower right come to signify in this connexion the power that know
s and reveals itself to consciousness, and the power concealing itself and lurki
ng in the background. The one is the aspect of light, the god of the Oracle, who
as regards its natural aspect [Light] has sprung from the all-illuminating Sun,
knows all and reveals all, PhÏbus and Zeus, who is his Father. But the commands o
f this truth-speaking god, and his proclamations of what is, are really deceptiv
e and fallacious. For this knowledge is, in its very principle, directly not kno
wledge, because consciousness in acting is inherently this opposition. He,(4) wh
o had the power to unlock the riddle of the sphinx, and he too who trusted with
childlike confidence,(5) are, therefore, both sent to destruction through what t
he god reveals to them. The priestess, through whose mouth the beautiful god spe
aks,(6) is in nothing different from the equivocal sisters of fate,(7) who drive
their victim to crime by their promises, and who, by the double-tongued, equivo
cal character of what they gave out as a certainty, deceive the King when he rel
ies upon the manifest and obvious meaning of what they say. There is a type of c
onsciousness that is purer than the latter(8) which believes in witches, and mor
e sober, more thorough, and more solid than the former which puts its trust in t
he priestess and the beautiful god. This type of consciousness,(9) therefore, le
ts his revenge tarry for the revelation which the spirit of his father makes reg
arding the crime that did him to death, and institutes other proofs in addition-
-for the reason that the spirit giving the revelation might possibly be the devi
l.
This mistrust has good grounds, because the knowing consciousness takes its stan
d on the opposition between certainty of itself on the one hand, and the objecti
ve essential reality on the other. Ethical rightness, which insists that actuali
ty is nothing per se in opposition to absolute law, finds out that its knowledge
is onesided, its law merely a law of its own character, and that it has laid ho
ld of merely one of the powers of the substance. The act itself is this inversio
n of what is known into its opposite, into objective existence, turns round what
is right from the point of view of character and knowledge into the right of th
e very opposite with which the former is bound up in the essential nature of the
substance--turns it into the "Furies" who embody the right of the other power a
nd character awakened into hostility. The lower right sits with Zeus enthroned,
and enjoys equal respect and homage with the god revealed and knowing.
To these three supernatural Beings the world of the gods of the chorus is limite
d and restricted by the acting individuality. The one is the substance, the powe
r presiding over the hearth and home and the spirit worshipped by the family, as
well as the universal power pervading state and government. Since this distinct
ion belongs to the substance as such, it is, when dramatically presented, not in
dividualized in two distinct shapes [of the substance], but has in actual realit
y the two persons of its characters. On the other hand, the distinction between
knowing and not knowing falls within each of the actual self-consciousnesses; an
d only in abstraction, in the element of universality, does it get divided into
two individual shapes. For the self of the hero only exists as a whole conscious
ness, and hence includes essentially the whole of the distinction belonging to t
he form; but its substance is determinate, and only one side of the content dist
inguished belongs to him. Hence the two sides of consciousness, which have m con
crete reality no separate individuality peculiarly their own, receive, when idea
lly represented, each its own particular form: the one that of the god revealed,
the other that of the Furies keeping themselves concealed. In part both enjoy e
qual honour, while again, the form assumed by the substance, Zeus, is the necess
ity of the relation of the two to one another. The substance is the relation tha
t knowledge is for itself, but finds its truth in what is simple; that the disti
nction, through and in which actual consciousness exists, has its basis in that
inner being which destroys it; that the clear conscious assurance of certainty h
as its confirmation in forgetfulness.
Consciousness disclosed this opposition by action, through doing something. Acti
ng in accordance with the knowledge revealed, it, finds out the deceptiveness of
that knowledge, and being committed, as regards its inner nature., to one of th
e attributes of substance, it did violence to the other and thereby gave the lat
ter right as against itself. When following that god who knows and reveals himse
lf, it really seized hold of what is not revealed, and pays the penalty for havi
ng trusted the knowledge, whose equivocal character (since this is its very natu
re) it also had to discover, and an admonition thereanent to be given. The frenz
y of the priestess, the inhuman shape of the witches, the voices of trees and bi
rds, dreams, and so on, are not ways in which truth appears; they are admonitory
signs of deception, of want of judgment, of the individual and accidental chara
cter of knowledge. Or, what comes to the same thing, the opposite power, which c
onsciousness has violated, is present as express law and authentic right, whethe
r law of the family or law of the state; while consciousness, on the other hand,
pursued its own proper knowledge, and hid from itself what was revealed. The tr
uth, however, of the opposing powers of content and consciousness is the final r
esult, that both are equally right, and, hence, in their opposition (which comes
about through action) are equally wrong. The process of action proves their uni
ty in the mutual overthrow of both powers and both self-conscious characters. Th
e reconciliation of the opposition with itself is the Lethe of the nether world
in the form of Death-or the Lethe of the upper world in the form of absolution,
not from guilt (for consciousness cannot deny its guilt, because the act was don
e), but from the crime, and in the form of the peace of soul which atones for th
e crime. Both are forgetfulness, the disappearance of the reality and action of
the powers of the substance, of their component individualities, and of the powe
rs of the abstract thought of good and evil. For none of them by itself is the r
eal essence: this consists in the undisturbed calm of the whole within itself, t
he immovable unity of Fate, the quiescent existence (and hence want of activity
and vitality) of the family and government, and the equal honour and consequent
indifferent unreality of Apollo and the Furies, and the return of their spiritua
l life and activity into Zeus solely and simply.
This destiny completes the depopulation of Heaven-of that unthinking blending of
individuality and. ultimate Being--a blending whereby the action of this absolu
te Being appears as something incoherent, contingent, unworthy of itself; for in
dividuality, when attaching in a merely superficial way to absolute Being, is un
essential. The expulsion of such unreal insubstantial ideas, which was demanded
by the philosophers of antiquity, thus already has its beginning in tragedy in g
eneral, through the fact that the division of the substance is controlled by the
 notion, and hence individuality is the essential individuality, and the specifi
c determinations are absolute characters. The self-consciousness represented in
tragedy knows and acknow- ledges on that account only one highest power, Zeus. T
his Zeus is known and acknowledged only as the power of the state or of the hear
th and home, and, in the opposition belonging to knowledge, merely as the Father
of the knowledge of the particular,--a knowledge assuming a figure in the drama
:--and again as the Zeus of the oath and of the Furies, the Zeus of what is univ
ersal, of the inner being dwelling in concealment. The further moments taken fro
m the notion (Begriff) and dispersed in the form of ideal presentation (Vorstell
ung), moments which the chorus permits to hold good one after the other, are, on
the other hand, not the "pathos" of the hero; they sink to the level of passion
s in the hero--to the level of accidental, insubstantial moments, which the impe
rsonal chorus no doubt praises, but which are not capable of constituting the ch
aracter of heroes, nor of being expressed and revered by them as their real natu
re.
But, further, the persons of the divine Being itself, as well as the characters
of its substance, coalesce into the simplicity of what is devoid of consciousnes
s. This necessity has, in contrast to self-consciousness, the characteristic of
being the negative power of all the shapes that appear, a power in which they do
not recognize themselves, but perish therein. The self appears as merely allott
ed amongst the different characters, and not as the mediating factor of the proc
ess. But self-consciousness, the simple certainty of self, is in point of fact t
he negative power, the unity of Zeus, the unity of the substantial essence and a
bstract necessity; it is the spiritual unity into which everything returns. Beca
use actual self-consciousness is still distinguished from the substance and fate
, it is partly the chorus, or rather the crowd looking on, whom this movement of
the divine life fills with fear as being something alien and strange, or in who
m this movement, as something closely touching themselves, produces merely the e
mo- tion of passive pity. Partly again, so far as consciousness co-operates and
belongs to the various characters, this alliance is of an external kind, is a hy
pocrisy--because the true union, that of self, fate, and substance, is not yet p
resent. The hero, who appears before the onlookers, breaks up into his mask and
the actor, into the person of the play and the actual self.
The self-consciousness of the heroes must step forth from its mask and be repres
ented as knowing itself to be the fate both of the gods of the chorus and of the
absolute powers themselves, and as being no longer separated from the chorus, t
he universal consciousness.
Comedy has, then, first of all, the aspect that actual self-consciousness repres
ents itself as the fate of the gods. These elemental Beings are, qua universal m
oments, no definite self, and are not actual. They are, indeed, endowed with the
form of individuality, but this is in their case merely put on, and does not re
ally and truly belong to them. The actual self has no such abstract moment as it
s substance and content. The subject, therefore, is raised above such a moment,
as it would be above a particular quality, and when clothed with this mask gives
utterance to the irony of such a property trying to be something on its own acc
ount. The pretentious claims of the universal abstract nature are shown up and d
iscovered in the actual self; it is seen to be caught and held in a concrete rea
lity, and lets the mask drop, just when it wants to be something genuine. The se
lf, appearing here in its significance as something actual, plays with the mask
which it once puts on, in order to be its own person; but it breaks away from th
is seeming and pretence just as quickly again, and comes out in its own nakednes
s and commonness, which it shows not to be distinct from the proper self, the ac
tor, nor again from the onlooker.
This general dissolution, which the formally embodied essential nature as a whol
e undergoes when it assumes individuality, becomes in its content more serious,
and hence more petulant and bitter, in so far as the content possesses its more
serious and necessary meaning. The divine substance combines the meaning of natu
ral and ethical essentiality.
As regards the natural element, actual self-consciousness shows in the very fact
of applying elements of nature for its adornment, for its abode and so on, and
again in feasting on its own offering, that itself is the Fate to which the secr
et is betrayed, no matter what may be the truth as regards the independent subst
antialitv of nature. In the mystery of the bread and wine it makes its very owm
this self-subsistence of nature together with the significance of the inner real
ity; and in Comedy it is conscious of the irony lurking in this meaning.
So far, again, as this meaning contains the essence of ethical reality, it is pa
rtly the nation in its two aspects of the state, or Demos proper, and individual
family life; partly, however, it is self-conscious pure knowledge, or rational
thought of the universal. Demos, the general mass, which knows itself as master
and governor, and is also aware of being the insight and intelligence which dema
nd respect, exerts compulsion and is befooled through the particularity of its a
ctual life, and exhibits the ludicrous contrast between its own opinion of itsel
f and its immediate existence, between its necessity and contingency, its univer
sality and its vulgarity. If the principle of its individual existence, cut off
from the universal, breaks out in the proper figure of an actual man and openly
usurps and administers the commonwealth, to which it is a secret harm and detrim
ent, then there is more immediately disclosed the contrast between the universal
in the sense of a theory, and that with which practice is con- cerned; there st
and exposed the entire emancipation of the ends and aims of the mere individual
from the universal order, and the scorn the mere individual shows for such order
.(10)
Rational thinking removes contingency of form and shape from the divine Being; a
nd, in opposition to the uncritical wisdom of the chorus--a wisdom, giving utter
ance to all sorts of ethical maxims and stamping with validity and authority a m
ultitude of laws and specific conceptions of duty and of right--rational thought
lifts these into the simple Ideas of the Beautiful and the Good. The process of
this abstraction is the consciousness of the dialectic involved in these maxims
and laws themselves, and hence the consciousness of the disappearance of that a
bsolute validity with which they previously appeared. Since the contingent chara
cter and superficial individuality which imagination lent to the divine Beings,
vanish, they are left, as regards their natural aspect, with merely the nakednes
s of their immediate existence; they are Clouds,(11) a passing vapour, like thos
e imaginative ideas. Having passed in accordance with their essential character,
as determined by thought, into the simple thoughts of the Beautiful and the Goo
d, these latter submit to being filled with every kind of content. The force of
dialectic knowledge(12) puts determinate laws and maxims of action at the mercy
of the pleasure and levity of youth, led astray therewith, and gives weapons of
deception into the hands of solicitous and apprehensive old age, restricted in i
ts interests to the individual details of life. The pure thoughts of the Beautif
ul and the Good thus display a comic spectacle:--through their being set free fr
om the opinion, which contains both their determinateness in the sense of conten
t and also their absolute determinateness, the firm hold of consciousness upon t
hem, they become empty, and, on that very account, the sport of the private opin
ion and caprice of any chance individuality.
Here, then, the Fate, formerly without consciousness, consisting in empty rest a
nd forgetfulness, and separated from self-consciousness, is united with self-con
sciousness. The individual(13) self is the negative force through which and in w
hich the gods, as also their moments, (nature as existent fact and the thoughts
of their determinate characters), pass away and disappear. At the same time, the
individual self is not the mere vacuity of disappearance, but preserves itself
in this very nothingness, holds to itself and is the sole and only reality. The
religion of art is fulfilled and consummated in it, and is come full circle. Thr
ough the fact that it is the individual consciousness in its certainty of self w
hich manifests itself as this absolute power, this latter has lost the form of s
omething ideally presented (vorgestellt), separated from and alien to consciousn
ess in general--as were the statue and also the living embodiment of beauty or t
he content of the Epic and the powers and persons of Tragedy. Nor again is the u
nity the unconscious unity of the cult and the mysteries; rather the self proper
of the actor coincides with the part he impersonates, just as the onlooker is p
erfectly at home in what is represented before him, and sees himself playing in
the drama before him. What this self-consciousness beholds, is that whatever ass
umes the form of essentiality as against self-consciousness, is instead dissolve
d within it--within its thought, its existence and action,--and is quite at its
mercy. It is the return of everything universal into certainty of self, a certai
nty which, in consequence, is this complete loss of fear of everything strange a
nd alien, and complete loss of substantial reality on the part of what is alien
and external. Such certainty is a state of spiritual good health and of self-aba
ndonment thereto, on the part of consciousness, in a way that, outside this kind
of comedy, is not to be found anywhere.(14)

C. REVEALED RELIGION(1)
THROUGH the Religion of Art spirit has passed from the form of substance into th
at of Subject; for art brings out its shape and form, and imbues it with the nat
ure of action, or establishes in it the self-consciousness which merely disappea
rs in the awesome substance and in the attitude of simple trust does not itself
comprehend itself. This incarnation in human form of the Divine Being begins wit
h the statue, which has in it only the outward shape of the self, while the inne
r life thereof, its activity, falls outside it. In the case of the cult, however
, both aspects have become one; in the outcome of the religion of art this unity
, in being completely attained, has at the same time also passed over to the ext
reme of self; in the spirit, which is perfectly certain of itself in the individ
ual existence of consciousness, all essential content is swallowed up and submer
ged. The proposition, which gives this light-hearted folly expression, runs thus
: "The Self is Absolute Being." The Being which was substance, and in which the
self was the accidental element, has dropped to the level of a predicate; and in
this self-consciousness, over against which nothing appears in the form of obje
ctive Being, spirit has lost its aspect of consciousness.(2)
This proposition, "The Self is Absolute Being", belongs, as is evident on the fa
ce of it, to the non-religious, the concrete actual spirit; and we have to recal
l what form of spirit it is which gives expression to it. This form will contain
at once the movement of that proposition and its conversion, which lowers the s
elf to a predicate and raises substance into subject. This we must understand to
take place in such a way that the converse statement does not per se, or for us
, make substance into subject, or, what is the same thing, does not reinstate su
bstance again so that the consciousness of spirit is carried back to its commenc
ement in natural religion; but rather in such a way that this conversion is brou
ght about for and through self-consciousness itself. Since this latter conscious
ly gives itself up, it is preserved and maintained in thus relinquishing itself,
and remains the subject of the substance; but as being likewise self-relinquish
ed, it has at the same time the consciousness of this substance. In other words,
since, by thus offering itself up, it produces substance as subject, this subje
ct remains its own very self. If, then, taking the two propositions, in the firs
t the subject merely disappears in substantiality, and in the second the substan
ce is merely a predicate, and both sides are thus present in each with contrary
inequality of value--the result hereby effected is that the union and transfusio
n of both natures [subject and substance] become apparent. In this union both, w
ith equal value and worth, are at once essential and also merely moments. Hence
it is that spirit is equally consciousness of itself as its objective substance,
as well as simple self-contained self-consciousness.
The religion of art belongs to the spirit animating the ethical sphere, the spir
it which we formerly saw sink and disappear in the condition of right,(3) i.e. i
n the proposition: "The self as such, the abstract person, is absolute Being." I
n ethical life the self is absorbed in the spirit of its nation, it is universal
ity filled to the full. Simple abstract individuality, however, rises out of thi
s content, and its lightheartedness clarifies and rarifies it till it becomes a
"person" and attains the abstract universality of right. Here the substantial re
ality of the ethical spirit is lost, the abstract insubstantial spirits of natio
nal individuals are gathered together into a pantheon; not into a pantheon repre
sented in idea (Vorstellung), whose impotent form lets each alone to do as it li
kes, but into the pantheon of abstract universality, of pure thought, which dise
mbodies them, and bestows on the spiritless self, on the individual person, comp
lete existence on its own account.
But this self, through its being empty, has let the content go; this consciousne
ss is Being merely within itself. Its own existence, the legal recognition of th
e person, is an unfulfilled empty abstraction. It thus really possesses merely t
he thought of itself; in other words, as it there exists and knows itself as obj
ect, it is something unreal. Consequently, it is merely stoic independence, the
independence of thought; and this finds, by passing through the process of scept
icism, its ultimate truth in that form we called the "unhappy self-consciousness
"--the soul of despair.
This knows how the case stands with the actual claims to validity which the abst
ract [legal] person puts forward, as also with the validity of this person in pu
re thought [in Stoicism]. It knows that a vindication of such validity means rea
lly being altogether lost; it is just this loss become conscious of itself, and
is the surrender and relinquishment of its knowledge about itself. We see that t
his "unhappy consciousness" constituted the counterpart and the complement of th
e perfectly happy consciousness, that of comedy. All divine reality goes back in
to this latter type of consciousness; it means, in other words, the complete rel
inquishment and emptying of substance. The former, on the contrary, is conversel
y the tragic fate that befalls certainty of self which aims at being absolute, a
t being self-sufficient. It is consciousness of the loss of everything of signif
icance in this certainty of itself, and of the loss even of this knowledge or ce
rtainty of self-the loss of substance as well as of self; it is the bitter pain
which finds expression in the cruel words, "God is dead".(4)
In the condition of right or law, then, the ethical world has vanished, and its
type of religion has passed away in the mood of Comedy. The "unhappy consciousne
ss" the soul of despair, is just the knowledge of all this loss. It has lost bot
h the worth and dignity it attached to its immediate personality [as a legal per
son] as well as that attaching to its personality when reflected in the medium o
f thought [in the case of Stoicism]. Trust in the eternal laws of the Gods is li
kewise silenced, just as the oracles are dumb, who pretended to know what to do
in particular cases. The statues set up are now corpses in stone whence the anim
ating soul has flown, while the hymns of praise are words from which all belief
has gone. The tables of the gods are bereft of spiritual food and drink, and fro
m his games and festivals man no more receives the joyful sense of his unity wit
h the divine Being. The works of the muse lack the force and energy of the spiri
t which derived the certainty and assurance of itself just from the crushing rui
n of gods and men. They are themselves now just what they are for us--beautiful
fruit broken off the tree; a kindly fate has passed on those works to us, as a m
aiden might offer such fruit off a tree. Their actual life as they exist is no l
onger there, not the tree that bore them, not the earth, and the elements, which
constituted their substance, nor the climate that determined their constitutive
character, nor the change of seasons which controlled the process of their grow
th. So too it is not their living world that Fate preserves and gives us with th
ose works of ancient art, not the spring and summer of that ethical life in whic
h they bloomed and ripened, but the veiled remembrance alone of all this reality
. Our action, therefore, when we enjoy them is not that of worship, through whic
h our conscious life might attain its complete truth and be satisfied to the ful
l: our action is external; it consists in wiping off some drop of rain or speck
of dust from these fruits, and in place of the inner elements composing the real
ity of the ethical life, a reality that environed, created and inspired these wo
rks, we erect in prolix detail the scaffolding of the dead elements of their out
ward existence,--language, historical circumstances, etc. All this we do, not in
order to enter into their very life, but only to represent them ideally or pict
orially (vorstellen) within ourselves. But just as the maiden who hands us the p
lucked fruits is more than the nature which presented them in the first instance
--the nature which provided all their detailed conditions and elements, tree, ai
r, light, and so on--since in a higher way she gathers all this together into th
e light of her self-conscious eye, and her gesture in offering the gifts; so too
the spirit of the fate, which presents us with those works of art, is more than
the ethical life realized in that nation. For it is the inwardizing in us, in t
he form of conscious memory (Er-Innerung), of the spirit which in them was manif
ested in a still external way;--it is the spirit of the tragic fate which collec
ts all those individual gods and attributes of the substance into the one Panthe
on, into the spirit which is itself conscious of itself as spirit.
All the conditions for its production are present, and this totality of its cond
itions constitutes the development of it, its notion, or the inherent production
of it. The cycle of the creations of art embraces in its scope all forms in whi
ch the absolute substance relinquishes itself. The absolute substance is in the
form of individuality as a thing; as an object existing for sense experience; as
pure language, or the process of that form whose existence does not get away fr
om the self, and is a purely evanescent object; as immediate unity with universa
l self-consciousness when inspired with enthusiasm; as mediated unity when perfo
rming the acts of the cult; as corporeal embodiment of the self in a form of bea
uty; and finally as existence lifted into ideal representation (Vorstellung) and
the expansion of this existence into a world which at length gathers its conten
t together into universality, a universal which is at the same time pure certain
ty and assurance of itself. These forms, and, on the other side, the world of pe
rsonality and legal right, the wild and desert waste of content with its constit
uent elements set free and detached, as also the thought-constituted personality
of Stoicism, and the unresting disquiet of Scepticism--these compose, the perip
hery of the circle of shapes and forms, which attend., an expectant and eager th
rong, round the birthplace of spirit as it becomes self-consciousness. Their cen
tre is the yearning agony of the unhappy despairing self-consciousness, a pain w
hich permeates all of them and is the common birthpang at its production,--the s
implicity of the pure notion, which contains those forms as its moments.
Spirit, here, has in it two sides, which are above represented as the two conver
se propositions: one is this, that substance empties itself of itself, and becom
es self-consciousness; the other is the converse, that self-consciousness emptie
s itself of itself and makes itself into the form of "thing", or makes itself un
iversal self. Both sides have in this way met each other, and in consequence, th
eir true union has arisen. The relinquishment or "kenosis" on the part of the su
bstance, its becoming self-consciousness, expresses the transition into the oppo
site, the unconscious transition of necessity, in other words, that it is implic
itly self-consciousness. Conversely, the emptying of self-consciousness expresse
s this, that implicitly it is Universal Being, or--because the self is pure self
-existence, which is at home with itself in its opposite-that the substance is s
elf-consciousness explicitly for the self, and, just on that account, is spirit.
Of this spirit, which has left the form of substance behind, and enters existen
ce in the shape of self-consciousness, we may say, therefore-if we wish to use t
erms drawn from the process of natural generation--that it has a real mother but
 a potential or an implicit father. For actual reality, or self-consciousness, a
nd implicit being in the sense of substance are its two moments; and by the reci
procity of their kenosis, each relinquishing or "emptying" itself of itself and
becoming the other, spirit thus comes into existence as their unity.
In so far as self-consciousness in a one-sided way grasps only, its own relinqui
shment, although its object is thus f or it at once both existence and self and
it knows all existence to be spiritual in nature, yet true spirit has not become
thereby objective for it. For, so far, being in general or substance, would not
essentially from its side be also emptied of itself, and become self-consciousn
ess. In that case, then, all existence is spiritual reality merely from the stan
dpoint of consciousness, not inherently in itself. Spirit in this way has merely
a fictitious or imaginary existence.(5) This imagination is fantastic extravaga
nce of mind, which introduces into nature as well as history, the World and the
mythical ideas of early religions, another inner esoteric meaning different from
what they, on the face of them, bear directly to consciousness, and, in particu
lar, in the case of religions, another meaning than the self-consciousness, whos
e religions they were, actually knew to be there. But this meaning is one that i
s borrowed, a garment, which does not cover the nakedness of the outer appearanc
e, and secures no belief and respect; it is no more than murky darkness and a pe
culiar crazy contortion of consciousness.
If then this meaning of the objective is not to be bare fancy and imagination, i
t must be inherent and essential (an sich), i.e. must in the first place arise i
n consciousness as springing from the very notion, and must come forth in its ne
cessity. It is thus that self-knowing spirit has arisen; it has arisen through t
he knowledge of immediate consciousness, i.e. of consciousness of the existing o
bject, by means of its necessary process. This notion, which, being immediate, h
ad also, for its consciousness, the shape of immediacy, has, in the second place
, taken on the form of self-consciousness essentially and inherently, i.e. by ju
st the same necessity of the notion by which being or immediacy, the abstract ob
ject of self-consciousness, renounces itself and becomes, for consciousness, Ego
. The immediate entity (Ansich), or [objectively] existent necessity, is, howeve
r, different from the [subjective] thinking entity, or the knowledge of necessit
y--a distinction which, at the same time, does not lie outside the notion, for t
he simple unity of the notion is itself immediate being. The notion is at once w
hat empties or relinquishes itself, or the explicit unfolding of directly appreh
ended (angeschaut) necessity, and is also at home with itself in that necessity,
knows it and comprehends it. The immediate inherent nature of spirit, which tak
es on the form of self-consciousness, means nothing else than that the concrete
actual world-spirit has reached this knowledge of itself. It is then too that th
is knowledge first enters its consciousness, and enters it as truth. How that ca
me about has already been explained.
That Absolute Spirit has taken on the shape of self-consciousness inherently, an
d therefore also consciously to itself--this appears now as the belief of the wo
rld, the belief that spirit exists in fact as a definite self-consciousness, i.e
. as an actual human being; that spirit is an object for immediate experience; t
hat the believing mind sees, feels, and hears this divinity.(6) Taken thus it is
not imagination, not a fancy; it is actual in the believer. Consciousness in th
at case does not set out from its own inner life, does not start from thought, a
nd in itself combine the thought of God with existence; rather it sets out from
immediate present existence, and recognizes God in it.
The moment of immediate existence is present in the content of the notion, and p
resent in such a way that the religious spirit, on the return of all ultimate re
ality into consciousness, has become simple positive self, just as the actual sp
irit as such, in the case of the "unhappy consciousness", was just this simple s
elf-conscious negativity. The self of the existent spirit has in that way the fo
rm of complete immediacy. It is neither set up as something thought, or imaginat
ively represented, nor as something produced, as is the case with the immediate
self in natural religion, or again in religion as art. Rather, this concrete God
is beheld sensuously I and immediately as a self, as a real individual human be
ing, only so is it a self-consciousness.
This incarnation of the Divine Being, its having essentially and directly the sh
ape of self-consciousness, is the simple content of Absolute Religion. Here the
Divine Being is known as Spirit; this religion is the Divine Being's consciousne
ss concerning itself that it is Spirit. For spirit is knowledge of self in a sta
te of alienation of self: spirit is the Being which is the process of retaining
identity with itself in its otherness. This, however, is Substance, so far as in
its accidents substance at the same time is turned back into itself; and is so,
not as being indifferent towards something unessential and, consequently, as fi
nding itself in some alien element, but as being there within itself, i.e. so fa
r as it is subject or self.
In this form of religion the Divine Being is, on that account, revealed. Its bei
ng revealed obviously consists in this, that what it is, is known. It is, howeve
r, known just in its being known as spirit, as a Being which is essentially self
-consciousness.
There is something in its object concealed from consciousness if the object is f
or consciousness an "other", or something alien, and if consciousness does not k
now the object as its self. This concealment, this secrecy, ceases when the Abso
lute Being qua spirit is object of consciousness. For here in its relation to co
nsciousness the object is in the form of self; i.e. consciousness immediately kn
ows itself there, or is manifest, revealed, to itself in the object. Itself is m
anifest to itself only in its own certainty of self; the object it has is the se
lf; self, however, is nothing alien and extraneous, but inseparable unity with i
tself, the immediately universal. It is the pure notion, pure thought, or self-e
xistence, (being-for-self), which is immediately being, and, therewith, being-fo
r-another, and, qua this being-for-another, is immediately turned back into itse
lf and is at home with itself (bei sich). It is thus the truly and solely reveal
ed. The Good, the Righteous, the Holy, Creator of Heaven and Earth, etc.--all th
ese are predicates of a subject, universal moments, which have their support on
this central point, and only are when consciousness goes back into thought.
As long as it is they that are known, their ground and essential being, the Subj
ect itself, is not yet revealed; and in the same way the specific determinations
of the universal are not this universal itself. The Subject itself, and consequ
ently this pure universal too, is, however, revealed as self; for this self is j
ust this inner being reflected into itself, the inner being which is immediately
given and is the proper certainty of that self, for which it is given. To be in
its notion that which reveals and is revealed--this is, then, the true shape of
spirit; and moreover, this shape, its notion, is alone its very essence and its
substance. Spirit is known as self-consciousness, and to this self-consciousnes
s it is directly revealed, for it is this self-consciousness itself. The divine
nature is the same as the human, and it is this unity which is intuitively appre
hended (angeschaut).
Here, then, we find as a fact consciousness, or the general form in which Being
is aware of Being--the shape which Being adopts--to be identical with its self-c
onsciousness. This shape is itself a self-consciousness; it is thus at the same
time an existent object; and this existence possesses equally directly the signi
ficance of pure thought, of Absolute Being.
The absolute Being existing as a concrete actual self-consciousness, seems to ha
ve descended from its eternal pure simplicity; but in fact it has, in so doing,
attained for the first time its highest nature, its supreme reach of being. For
only when the notion of Being has reached its simple purity of nature, is it bot
h the absolute abstraction, which is pure thought and hence the pure singleness
of self, and immediacy or objective being, on account of its simplicity.
What is called sense-consciousness is just this pure abstraction; it is this kin
d of thought for which being is the immediate. The lowest is thus at the same ti
me the highest: the revealed which has come forth entirely to the surface is jus
t therein the deepest reality. That the Supreme Being is seen, heard, etc., as a
n existent self-consciousness this is, in very truth, the culmination and consum
mation of its notion. And through this consummation, the Divine Being is given a
nd exists immediately in its character as Divine Being.
This immediate existence is at the same time not solely and simply immediate con
sciousness; it is religious consciousness. This immediacy means not only an exis
tent self-consciousness, but also the purely thought-constituted or Absolute Bei
ng; and these meanings are inseparable. What we [the philosophers] are conscious
of in our conception,--that objective being is ultimate essence,--is the same a
s what the religious consciousness is aware of. This unity of being and essence,
of thought which is immediately existence, is immediate knowledge on the part o
f this religious consciousness just as it is the inner thought or the mediated r
eflective knowledge of this consciousness. For this unity of being and thought i
s self-consciousness and actually exists; in other words, the thought-constitute
d unity has at the same time this concrete shape and form of what it is. God, th
en, is here revealed, as He is; He actually exists as He is in Himself; He is re
al as Spirit. God is attainable in pure speculative knowledge alone, and only is
in that knowledge, and is merely that knowledge itself, for He is spirit; and t
his speculative knowledge is the knowledge furnished by revealed religion. That
knowledge knows God to be thought, or pure Essence; and knows this thought as ac
tual being and as a real existence, and existence as the negativity of itself, h
ence as Self, an individual "this" and a universal self. It is just this that re
vealed religion knows.
The hopes and expectations of preceding ages pressed forward to, and were solely
directed towards this revelation, the vision of what Absolute Being is, and the
discovery of themselves therein. This joy, the joy of seeing itself in Absolute
Being, becomes realized in self-consciousness, and seizes the whole world. For
the Absolute is Spirit, it is the simple movement of those pure abstract moments
, which expresses just this-that Ultimate Reality is then, and not till then, kn
own as Spirit when it is seen and beheld as immediate self-consciousness.
This conception of spirit knowing itself to be spirit, is still the immediate no
tion; it is not yet developed. The ultimate Being is spirit; in other words, it
has appeared, it is revealed. This first revelation is itself immediate; but the
immediacy is likewise thought, or pure mediation, and must therefore exhibit an
d set forth this moment in the sphere of immediacy as such.
Looking at this more precisely, spirit, when self-consciousness is immediate, is
"this" individual self-consciousness set up in contrast to the universal self-c
onsciousness. It is a one, an excluding unit, which appears to that consciousnes
s, for which it exists, in the as yet impervious form of a sensuous other, an un
resolved entity in the sphere of sense. This other does not yet know spirit to b
e its own; in other words spirit, in its form as an individual self, does not ye
t exist as equally universal self, as all self. Or again, the shape it assumes h
as not as yet the form of the notion, i.e. of the universal self, of the self wh
ich in its immediate actual reality is at once transcended, is thought, universa
lity, without losing its reality in this universality.
The preliminary and similarly immediate form of this universality is, however, n
ot at once the form of thought itself, of the notion as notion; it is the univer
sality of actual reality, it is the "allness", the collective totality, of the s
elves, and is the elevation of existence into the sphere of figurative thought (
Vorstellung); just as in general, to take a concrete example, the "this" of sens
e, when transcended, is first of all the "thing" of "perception", and is not yet
the "universal" of "understanding".
This individual human being, then, which Absolute Being is revealed to be, goes
through in its own case as an individual the process found in sense existence. H
e is the immediately present God; in consequence, His being passes over into His
having been. Consciousness, for which God is thus sensuously present, ceases to
see Him, to hear Him: it has seen Him, it has heard Him. And it is because it o
nly has seen and heard Him, that it first becomes itself spiritual consciousness
;(7) or, in other words, He has now arisen in Spirit, as He formerly rose before
consciousness as an object existing in the sphere of sense. For, a consciousnes
s which sees and hears Him by sense, is one which is itself merely an immediate
consciousness, which has not cancelled and transcended the disparateness of obje
ctivity, has not withdrawn it into pure thought, but knows this objectively pres
ented individual, and not itself, as spirit. In the disappearance of the immedia
te existence of what is known to be Absolute Being, immediacy acquires its negat
ive moment. Spirit remains the immediate self of actual reality, but in the form
of the universal self-consciousness of a religious communion,(8) a self-conscio
usness which rests in its own proper substance, just as in it this substance is
universal subject: it is not the individual subject by himself, but the individu
al along with the consciousness of the communion, and what he is for this commun
ion is the complete whole of the individual spirit.
The conditions "past" and "distance" are, however, merely the imperfect form in
which the immediateness gets mediated or made universal; this is merely dipped s
uperficially in the element of thought, is kept there as a sensuous mode of imme
diacy, and not made one with the nature of thought itself. It is lifted out of s
ense merely into the region of pictorial presentation; for this is the synthetic
[external] connexion of sensuous immediacy and its universality or thought.
Pictorial presentation constitutes the characteristic form in which spirit is co
nscious of itself in this its religious communion. This form is not yet the self
-consciousness of spirit which has reached its notion as notion; the mediating p
rocess is still incomplete. In this connexion of being and thought, then, there
is a defect; spiritual life is still cumbered with an unrecon- ciled diremption
into a "here" and a "beyond". The content is the true content; but all its momen
ts, when placed in the element of mere imaginative presentation, have the charac
ter, not of being conceptually comprehended, but of appearing as completely inde
pendent aspects, externally related to one another.
In order that the true content may also obtain its true form for consciousness,
the latter must necessarily pass to a higher plane of mental development, where
the absolute Substance is not intuitively apprehended but conceptually comprehen
ded and where consciousness is for itself brought to the level of its self-consc
iousness;-as this has already taken place objectively or for us [who have analys
ed the process of experience].
We have to consider this content as it exists in its consciousness. Absolute Spi
rit is content; that is how it exists in the shape of its truth. But its truth c
onsists not merely in being the substance or the inherent reality of the religio
us communion; nor again in coming out of this inwardness into the objectivity of
imaginative thought; but in becoming concrete actual self, reflecting itself in
to self, and being Subject. This, then, is the process which spirit realizes in
its communion; this is its life. What this self-revealing spirit is in and for i
tself, is therefore not brought out by the rich content of its life being, so to
say, untwined and reduced to its original and primitive strands, to the ideas,
for instance, presented before the minds of the first imperfect religious commun
ion, or even to what the actual human being [incarnating the Divine Spirit] has
spoken.(9) This reversion to the primitive is based on the instinct to get at th
e notion, the ultimate principle; but it confuses the origin, in the sense of th
e immediate, existence of the first historical appearance, with the simplicity o
f the notion. By thus impoverishing the life of spirit, by clearing away the ide
a of the com- munion and its action with regard to its idea, there arises, there
fore, not the notion, but bare externality and particularity, merely the histori
cal manner in which spirit once upon a time appeared, the soulless recollection
of a presumably (gemeinten) individual historical figure and its past.(10)
Spirit is content of its consciousness to begin with in the form of pure substan
ce; in other words, it is content of its pure consciousness. This element of tho
ught is the process of descending into existence, or individuality. The middle t
erm between these two is their synthetic connexion, the consciousness of passing
into otherness, the process of imaginative presentation as such. The third stag
e is the return from this presentation and from that otherness; in other words,
it is the element of self-consciousness itself.
These three moments constitute the life of spirit. Its resolution in imaginative
thought consists in its taking on a determinate mode of being; this determinate
ness, however, is nothing but one of its moments. Its detailed process thus cons
ists in spreading its nature out in each of its moments as in an element in whic
h it lives: and in so far as each of these spheres completes itself in itself, t
his reflexion into itself is at the same time the transition into another sphere
of its being. Imaginative presentation constitutes the middle term between pure
thought and self-consciousness as such, and is merely one of the determinate fo
rms. At the same time however, as has been shown, the character belonging to suc
h presentation--that of being "synthetic connexion"--is spread over all these el
ements and is their common characteristic.
The content itself, which we have to consider, has partly been met with already,
as the idea of the "unhappy" and the "believing" consciousness. In the case of
the "unhappy" consciousness, however, the content has the characteristic of bein
g produced from consciousness and for which it yearns, a content wherein the spi
rit can never be satiated nor find rest because the content is not yet its own c
ontent inherently and essentially, or in the sense of being its substance. In th
e case of the "believing" consciousness, again, this content was regarded as the
impersonal Being of the World, as the essentially objective content of imaginat
ive thought--a pictorial thinking that seeks to escape the actual world altogeth
er, and consequently has not the certainty of self-consciousness, a certainty wh
ich is cut off from it, partly as being conceit of knowledge, partly as being pu
re insight. The consciousness of the religious communion, on the other hand, pos
sesses the content as its substance, just as the content is the certainty the co
mmunion has of its own spirit.
Spirit, represented at first as substance in the element of pure thought, is, th
us, primarily the eternal essential Being, simple, self-identical, which does no
t, however, have this abstract meaning of essential Being, but the meaning of Ab
solute Spirit. Yet spirit consists, not in being a meaning, not in being the inn
er, but in being the actual, the real. "Simple eternal essential Being" would, t
herefore, be spirit merely in empty phrase, if we remained at the level of picto
rial thought, and went no further than the expression of "simple eternal essenti
al Being". "Simple essential Being", however, because it is abstraction, is in p
oint of fact the inherently negative, is indeed the negativity of reflective tho
ught, or negativity as found in Being per se; i.e. it is absolute distinction fr
om itself, is pure process of becoming its other. Qua essential Being, it is mer
ely implicit, or for us: but since this purity of form is just abstraction or ne
gativity, it is for itself, it is the self, the notion. It is thus objective; an
d since pictorial thinking apprehends and expresses as an event what has just be
en expressed as the necessity of the notion, it will be said that the eternal Be
ing begets for itself an other. But in this otherness it has likewise, ipso fact
o, returned into itself again; for the distinction is distinction in itself, i.e
. the distinction is directly distinguished merely from itself, and is thus the
unity returned into itself.
There are thus three moments to be distinguished: Essential Being; explicit Self
-existence, which is the express otherness of essential Being, and for which tha
t Being is object; and Self-existence or Self-knowledge in that other. The essen
tial Being beholds only itself in its Self-existence, in its objective otherness
. In thus emptying itself, in this kenosis, it is merely within itself: the inde
pendent Self-existence which excludes itself from essential Being is the knowled
ge of itself on the part of essential Being. It is the "Word", the Logos, which
when spoken empties the speaker of himself, outwardizes him, and leaves him behi
nd emptied, but is as immediately perceived, and only this act of self-perceivin
g himself is the actual existence of the "Word". Hence, then, the distinctions w
hich are set up are just as immediately resolved as they are made, and are just
as directly made as they are resolved, and the truth and the reality consist pre
cisely in this self -closed circular process.
This movement within itself expresses the absolute Being qua Spirit. Absolute Be
ing, when not grasped as Spirit, is merely the abstract void, just as spirit whi
ch is not grasped as this process is merely an empty word. Since its moments are
grasped purely as moments, they are notions in restless activity, which are mer
ely in being inherently their own opposite, and in finding their rest in the who
le. But the pictorial thought of the religious communion is not this notional th
inking; it has the content without its necessity; and instead of the form of the
notion it brings into the realm of pure consciousness the natural relations of
Father and Son. Since it thus, even when thinking, proceeds by way of figurative
ideas, absolute Being is indeed revealed to it, but the moments of this Being,
owing to this [externally] synthetic pictorial thinking, partly fall of themselv
es apart from one another, so that they are not related to each other through th
eir own very notion, while, partly again, this figurative thinking retreats from
the pure object it deals with, and takes up a merely external relation towards
it. The object is externally revealed to it from an alien source, and in this th
ought of Spirit it does not recognize its own self, does not recognize the natur
e of pure self-consciousness. In so far as the form of figurative thinking and t
hat way of thinking by means of relationships derived from nature have to be tra
nscended, and especially the method of taking the moments of the process, which
Spirit is, as isolated immovable substances or subjects, instead of transient mo
ments--this transcendence is to be looked at as a compulsion on the part of the
notion, in the way we formerly pointed out when dealing with another aspect.(11)
But since it is only an instinct, it mistakes its own real character, rejects t
he content along with the form, and, what comes to the same thing, degrades the
content into a historical imaginative idea and an heirloom handed down by tradit
ion. In this way there is retained and preserved only what is purely external in
belief, and the retention of it as something dead and devoid of knowledge; whil
e the inner element in belief has passed away, because this would be the notion
knowing itself as notion.
The Absolute Spirit, as pictured in the element of pure essential Being, is not
indeed the abstract pure essential Being; rather, just by the fact that this is
merely a moment in the life of Spirit, abstract essential Being has sunk to the
level of a mere element (in which Spirit lives). The representation of Spirit in
this element, however, has inherently the same defect, as regards form, which e
ssential Being as such has. Essential Being is abstraction, and, therefore, the
negative of its simplicity, is an other: in the same way, Spirit in the element
of essential Being is the form of simple unity, which, on that account, is just
as essentially a process of becoming something else. Or, what is the same thing,
the relation of the eternal Being to its self-existence, (its objective existen
ce for Itself), is that of pure thought, an immediately simple relation. In this
simple beholding of itself in the Other, otherness therefore is not as such set
up independently; it is distinction in the way of distinction, in pure thought,
 is immediately no distinction-a recognition of Love, where lover and beloved ar
e by their very nature not opposed to each other at all. Spirit, which is expres
sed in the element of pure thought, is essentially just this: not to be merely i
n that element, but to be concrete, actual; for otherness itself, i.e. cancellin
g and superseding its own pure thought-constituted notion, lies in the very noti
on of Spirit.
The element of pure thought, because it is an abstract element, is itself rather
the other of its own simplicity, and hence passes over into the proper element
of imagination--the element where the moments of the pure notion at once acquire
a substantial existence in opposition to each other and are subjects as well, w
hich do not exist in indifference towards each other, merely for a third, but, b
eing reflected into themselves, break away from one another and stand confrontin
g each other.
Merely eternal, or abstract Spirit, then, becomes an other to itself: it enters
existence, and, in the first instance, enters immediate existence. It creates a
World. This "Creation" is the word which pictorial thought uses to convey the no
tion itself in its absolute movement; or to express the fact that the simple whi
ch has been expressed as absolute, or pure thought, just because it is abstract,
is really the negative, and hence opposed to itself, the other of itself; or be
cause, to state the same in yet another way, what is put forward as essential Be
ing is simple immediacy, bare existence, but qua immediacy or existence, is with
out Self, and, lacking thus inwardness, is passive, or exists for another. This
existence for another is at the same time a world. Spirit, in the character of e
xisting for another, is the undisturbed separate subsistence of those moments fo
rmerly enclosed within pure thought, is, therefore, the dissolution of their sim
ple universality, and their dispersion into their own particularity.
The world, however, is not merely Spirit thus thrown out and dispersed into the
plenitude of existence and the external order imposed on it; for since Spirit is
essentially the simple Self, this self is likewise present therein. The world i
s objectively existent spirit, which is individual self, that has consciousness
and distinguishes itself as other, as world, from itself. In the way this indivi
dual self is thus immediately established at first it is not yet conscious of be
ing Spirit; it thus does not exist as Spirit; it may be called "innocent", but n
ot strictly "good". In order that in fact it may be self and Spirit, it has firs
t to become objectively an other to itself, in the same way that the Eternal Bei
ng manifests itself as the process of being self-identical in its otherness. Sin
ce this spirit is determined as yet only as immediately existing, or dispersed i
nto the diverse multiplicity of its conscious life, its becoming "other" means t
hat knowledge concentrates itself upon itself. Immediate existence turns into th
ought, or merely sense-consciousness turns round into consciousness of thought;
and, moreover, because that thought has come from immediacy or is conditioned th
ought, it is not pure knowledge, but thought which contains otherness, and is, t
hus, the self-opposed thought of good and evil. Man is pictorially represented b
y the religious mind in this way: it happened once as an event, with no necessit
y about it, that he lost the form of harmonious unity with himself by plucking t
he fruits of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and was driven from the
state of innocence, from Paradise, from the garden with all its creatures, and
from nature offering its bounties without man's toil.
Since this self-concentration on the part of the existent consciousness has stra
ightway the character of becoming discordant with itself, Evil appears as the fi
rst actual expression of the self-concentrated consciousness. And because the th
oughts of good and evil are utterly opposed, and this opposition is not yet brok
en down, this consciousness is essentially and merely evil. At the same time, ho
wever, owing to just this very opposition, there is present also the good consci
ousness opposing the one that is evil, and again their relation to each other. I
n so far as immediate existence turns round into thought, and self-concentration
 is partly itself thought, while partly again the transition to otherness on the
part of the inner self (Wesen), is thereby more precisely determined,--the fact
of becoming evil can be removed further backwards away out of the actually exis
ting world and transferred to the very earliest realm of thought. It may thus be
said that it was the very first-born Son of Light [Lucifer] who, by becoming se
lf-concentrated, fell, but that in his place another was at once created. Such a
form of expression as "fallen", belonging merely to figurative thought, and not
to the notion, just like the term "Son", either (we may say) transmutes and low
ers the moments of the notion to the level of imaginative thought, or transfers
pictures 'into the realm of thought.
In the same way, it is matter of indifference to coordinate a multiplicity of ot
her shapes and forms(12) with the simple thought of otherness in the Being of th
e Eternal, and transfer to them that condition of self-con- centration. This co-
ordination must, all the same, win approval, for the reason that, through it, th
is moment of otherness does express diversity, as it should do: not indeed as pl
urality in general, but as determinate diversity, so that one part is the Son, t
hat which is simple and knows itself to be essential Being, while the other part
is the abandonment, the emptying, of self-existence, and merely lives to praise
that Being. To this part may then also be assigned the resumption once again of
the self-existence relinquished, and that "self-centredness" characteristic of
evil. In so far as this condition of otherness falls into two parts, Spirit migh
t, as regards its moments, be more exactly expressed numerically as a Quaternity
, a four in one, or (because the multiplicity breaks up itself again into two pa
rts, viz. one part which has remained good, the other which has become evil), mi
ght even be expressed as a Quinity.
Counting the moments, however, can be regarded as altogether useless, since, for
one thing, what is distinguished is itself just as truly one and single - viz.
the thought of distinction which is only one thought - as the thought is this el
ement distinguished, the second over against the first. For another thing it is
useless to count, because the thought which grasps the many in one has to be dis
solved out of its universality and must be distinguished into more than three or
four distinct components. This universality appears, in contrast to the absolut
e determinateness of the abstract unit-the principle of number-as indeterminaten
ess in relation to number as such; so that in this connexion we can speak only o
f numbers in general, i.e. not of a specific number of distinctions. Hence, in g
eneral, it is here quite superfluous to think of number and counting, just as, i
n other connexions, the bare difference of magnitude and multitude says nothing
at all and falls outside conceptual thought.
Good and Evil were the specific distinctions of thought which we found. Since th
eir opposition is not yet broken down, and they are represented as essential rea
lities of thought, each of them independent by itself, man is the self with no e
ssential reality of his own and the mere ground which couples them together, and
on which they exist and war with one another. But these universal powers of goo
d and evil belong all the same to the self, or the self is their actuality. From
this point of view it thus comes about that, as evil is nothing else than the s
elf-concentration of the natural existence of spirit, conversely, good enters in
to actual reality and appears as an (objectively) existing self-consciousness. T
hat which, when Spirit is interpreted in terms of pure thought, is in general me
rely hinted at as the Divine Being's transition into otherness, here, for figura
tive thinking, comes nearer its realization: the realization is taken to consist
in the Divine Being "humbling" Itself, and renouncing its abstract nature and u
nreality. The other aspect, that of evil, is taken by imagination as an event ex
traneous and alien to the Divine Being: to grasp evil in the Divine Being itself
as the wrath of God-that is the supreme effort, the severest strain, of which f
igurative thought, wrestling with its own limitations, is capable, an effort whi
ch, since it is devoid of the notion, remains a fruitless struggle.
The alienation of the Divine Nature is thus set up in its double-sided form: the
self of Spirit, and its simple thought, are the two moments whose absolute unit
y is Spirit itself. Its alienation with itself consists in the two falling apart
from each other, and in the one having an unequal value as against the other. T
his disparateness is, therefore, twofold in character, and two connexions arise,
which have in common the moments just given. In the one, the Divine Being stand
s for what is essential, while natural existence and the self are unessential an
d are to be cancelled. In the other, on the contrary, it is self-existence which
passes for what is essential and the simply Divine for unessential. Their media
ting, though still empty, ground is existence in general, the bare community of
their two moments.
The dissolution of this opposition does not take effect through the struggle bet
ween the two elements, which are pictured as separate and independent Beings. Ju
st in virtue of their independence each must inherently, through its own notion,
dissolve itself in itself. The struggle only takes place where both cease to be
this mixture of thought and independent existence, and confront each other mere
ly as thoughts. For there, being determinate notions, they essentially exist mer
ely in the relation of opposition; qua independent, on the other hand, they have
their essential nature outside their opposition; their movement is thus free, s
elf-determined, and peculiar to themselves. If, then, we consider the movement o
f both as it is in themselves--i.e. as it is essentially--their movement starts
only in that one of the two which has the character of being inherently essentia
l as contrasted with the other. This is pictured as a spontaneous action; but th
e necessity for its self-abandonment lies in the notion that what is inherently
essential, and gets this specific character merely through opposition, has just
on that account no real independent subsistence. Therefore that element which ha
s for its essence, not independent self-existence, but simple being, is what emp
ties and abandons itself, gives itself unto death, and so reconciles Absolute Be
ing with its own self. For in this process it manifests itself as spirit: the ab
stract Being is estranged from itself, it has natural existence and the reality
of an actual self. This its otherness, or its being sensuously present, is taken
back again by the second process of becoming "other", and is affirmed as supers
eded, as universal. Thereby the Divine Being has come to itself in the sphere of
the sensuous present; the immediate existence of actual reality has ceased to b
e something alien or external to the Divine, by being sublated, universal: this
death (of immediacy) is therefore its rising anew as spirit. When the self-consc
ious Being cancels and transcends its immediate present, it is as universal self
-consciousness. This notion of the transcended individual self which is Absolute
Being, immediately expresses therefore the establishment of a communion which,
while hitherto having its abode in the sphere of pictorial thought, now returns
into itself as the Self: and Spirit thus passes from the second element constitu
ting it,--figurative thought--and goes over to the third-self-consciousness as s
uch.
If we further consider the kind of procedure that pictorial thinking adopts as i
t goes along, we find in the first place the expression that the Divine Being "t
akes on" human nature. Here it is eo ipso asserted that implicitly and inherentl
y the two are not separate: just as in the statement, that the Divine Being from
the beginning empties Itself of Itself, that its objective existence becomes co
ncentrated in Itself and becomes evil, it is not asserted but implied that per s
e this evil existence is not something alien to the Divine nature. Absolute Bein
g would be merely an empty name if in very truth there were any other being exte
rnal to it, if there were a "fall"' from it. The aspect of self-concentration re
ally constitutes the essential moment of the self of Spirit.
That this self-centredness, whence primarily comes its reality, belongs to the D
ivine Being--while this is for us a notion, and so as far as it is a notion,--ap
pears to pictorial thinking as an inconceivable happening. The inherent and esse
ntial nature assumes for figurative thought the form of an indifferent objective
 fact. The thought, however, that those apparently mutually repugnant moments, a
bsolute Being and self-existent Self, are not inseparable, comes also before thi
s figurative way of thinking (since it does possess the real content), but that
thought appears afterwards, in the form that the Divine Being empties Itself of
Itself and is made flesh. This figurative idea, which in this manner is still im
mediate and hence not spiritual, i.e. it knows the human form assumed by the Div
ine as merely a particular form, not yet as a universal form--becomes spiritual
for this consciousness in the process whereby God, who has assumed shape and for
m, surrenders again His immediate existence, and returns to His essential Being.
The essential Being is then Spirit only when it is reflected into itself.
The reconciliation of the Divine Being with its other as a whole, and, specifica
lly, with the thought of this other-evil--is thus presented here, in a figurativ
e way. If this reconciliation is expressed conceptually, by saying it consists i
n the fact that evil is inherently the same as what goodness is, or again that t
he Divine Being is the same as nature in its entire extent, just as nature separ
ated from God is simply nothingness,--then this must be looked at as an unspirit
ual mode of expression which is bound to give rise to misunderstandings. When ev
il is the same as goodness, then evil is just not evil nor goodness good; on the
contrary, both are really done away with--evil in general, self-centred self-ex
istence, and goodness, self-less simplicity. Since in this way they are both exp
ressed in terms of their notion, the unity of the two is at once apparent; for s
elf-centred self-existence is simple knowledge; and what is self-less simplicity
is similarly pure self-existence centred within itself. Hence, if it must be sa
id that good and evil in this their conception, i.e. so far as they are not good
and evil, are the same, just as certainly it must be said that they are not the
same, but absolutely different; for simple self-existence, or again pure knowle
dge, are equally pure negativity or per se absolute distinction. It is only thes
e two propositions that make the whole complete; and when the first is asserted
and asseverated, it must be met and opposed by insisting on the other with immov
able obstinacy. Since both are equally right, they are both equally wrong, and t
heir wrong consists in taking such abstract forms as "the same" and "not the sam
e", "identity" and "non-identity", to be something true, fixed, real, and in res
ting on them. Neither the one nor the other has truth; their truth is just their
movement, the process in which simple sameness is abstraction and thus absolute
distinction, while this again, being distinction per se, is distinguished from
itself and so is self-identity. Precisely this is what we have in sameness of th
e Divine Being and Nature in general and human nature in particular: the former
is Nature so far as it is not essential Being; Nature is Divine in its essential
Being. But it is in Spirit that we find both abstract aspects affirmed as they
truly are, viz. as cancelled and preserved at once: and this way of affirming th
em cannot be expressed by the judgment, by the soulless word "is" , the copula o
f the judgment. In the same way Nature is nothing outside its essential Being [G
od]; but this nothing itself is all the same; it is absolute abstraction, theref
ore pure thought or self-centredness, and with its moment of opposition to spiri
tual unity it is the principle of Evil. The difficulty people find in these conc
eptions is due solely to sticking to the term "is" and forgetting the character
of thought, where the moments as much are as they are not,--are only the process
which is Spirit. It is this spiritual unity,--unity where the distinctions are
merely in the form of moments, or as transcended--which became known to pictoria
l thinking in that atoning reconciliation spoken of above. And since this unity
is the universality of self-consciousness, self-consciousness has ceased to be f
igurative or pictorial in its thinking; the Process has turned back into it.
Spirit thus takes up its position in the third element, in universal self-consci
ousness: Spirit is its own community. The movement of this community being that
of self-consciousness, which distinguishes itself from its figurative idea, cons
ists in explicitly bringing out what has implicitly become established. The dead
Divine Man, or Human God, is implicitly universal self-consciousness; he has to
become explicitly so for this self-consciousness. Or, since this self-conscious
ness constitutes one side of the opposition involved in figurative thought, viz.
the side of evil, which takes natural existence and individual self-existence t
o be the essential reality--this aspect, which is pictured as independent, and n
ot yet as a moment, has, on account of its independence, to raise itself in and
for itself to the level of spirit; it has to reveal the process of Spirit in its
self.
This particular self-consciousness is Spirit in natural form, natural spirit: se
lf has to withdraw from this natural existence and enter into itself, become sel
f-centred; that would mean, it has to become evil. But this aspect is already pe
r se evil: entering into itself consists therefore, in persuading itself that na
tural existence is what is evil. By picture-thinking the world is supposed actua
lly to become evil and be evil as an actual fact, and the atoning reconcilement
of the Absolute Being is viewed as an actual existent phenomenon. By self-consci
ousness as such, however, this pictured truth, as regards its form, is considere
d to be merely a moment that is already superseded and transcended; for the self
is the negative, and hence knowledge--a knowledge which is a pure act of consci
ousness within itself. This moment of the negative must in like manner find expr
ession in the content. Since, that is to say, the essential Being is inherently
and from the start recon- cited with itself and is a spiritual unity, in which w
hat are parts for figurative thought are sublated, are moments, what we find is
that each part of figurative thought receives here the opposite significance to
that which it had before. By this means each meaning finds its completion in the
other, and the content is then and thereby a spiritual content. Since the speci
fic determinateness of each is just as much its opposite, unity in otherness--sp
iritual reality--is achieved: just as formerly we saw the opposite meanings comb
ined objectively (fer uns), or in themselves, and even the abstract forms of "th
e same" and "not-the-same", "identity" and "non-identity" cancelled one another
and were transcended.
If, then, from the point of view of figurative thought, the becoming self-centre
d on the part of the natural self-consciousness was actually existing evil, that
process of becoming fixed in itself is in the sphere of self consciousness, the
knowledge of evil as something that per se belongs to existence. This knowledge
is certainly a process of becoming evil, but merely of the thought of evil, and
is therefore recognized as the first moment of reconciliation. For, being a ret
urn into self out of the immediacy of nature, which is specifically characterize
d as evil, it is a forsaking of that immediacy, and a dying to sin. It is not na
tural existence as such that consciousness forsakes, but natural existence that
is at the same time known to be evil. The immediate process of becoming self-cen
tred, is just as much a mediate process: it presupposes itself, i.e. is its own
ground and reason: the reason for self-concentrating is because nature has per s
e already done so. Because of evil man must be self-centred (in sich gehen); but
evil is itself the state of self-concentration. This first movement is just on
that account itself merely immediate, is its simple notion, because it is the sa
me as what its ground or reason is. The movement, or the process of passing into
otherness, has therefore still to come on the scene in its own more peculiar fo
rm.
Beside this immediacy, then, the mediation of figurative thought is necessary. T
he knowledge of nature as the untrue existence of spirit, and this universality
of self which has arisen within the life of the self--these constitute implicitl
y the reconciliation of spirit with itself. This implicit state is apprehended b
y the self-consciousness, that does not comprehend (begreifen), in the form of a
n objective existence, and as something presented to it figuratively. Conceptual
comprehension (Begreifen), therefore, does not mean for it a grasping (Ergreife
n) of this conception (Begriff) which knows natural existence when cancelled and
transcended to be universal and thus reconciled with itself; but rather a grasp
ing of the imaginative idea (Vorstellung) that the Divine Being is reconciled wi
th its existence through an event,--the event of God's emptying Himself of His D
ivine Being through His factual Incarnation and His Death. The grasping of this
idea now expresses more specifically what was formerly called in figurative thin
king spiritual resurrection, or the process by which God's individual self-consc
iousness(13) becomes the universal, becomes the religious communion. The death o
f the Divine Man, qua death, is abstract negativity, the immediate result of the
process which terminates only in the universality belonging to nature. In spiri
tual self-consciousness death loses this natural significance; it passes into it
s true conception, the conception just mentioned. Death then ceases to signify w
hat it means directly--the non-existence of this individual--and becomes transfi
gured into the universality of the spirit, which lives in its own communion, die
s there daily, and daily rises again.
That which belongs to the sphere of pictorial thought--viz., that Absolute Spiri
t presents the nature of spirit in its existence, qua individual or rather qua p
articular,--is thus here transferred to self-consciousness itself, to the knowle
dge which maintains itself in its otherness. This self-consciousness does not th
erefore really die, as the particular person(14) is pictorially imagined to have
really died; its particularity expires in its universality, i.e. in its knowled
ge, which is essential Being reconciling itself with itself. That immediately pr
eceding element of figurative thinking is thus here affirmed as transcended, has
, in other words, returned into the self, into its notion. What was in the forme
r merely an (objective) existent has come to assume the form of Subject. By that
very fact the first element too, pure thought and the spirit eternal therein, a
re no longer away beyond the mind thinking pictorially nor beyond the self; rath
er the return of the whole into itself consists just in containing all moments w
ithin itself. When the death of the mediator is grasped by the self, this means
the sublation of his factuality, of his particular independent existence: this p
articular self-existence has become universal self-consciousness.
On the other side, the universal, just because of this, is self-consciousness, a
nd the pure or non-actual Spirit of bare thought has become actual. The death of
the mediator is death not merely of his natural aspect, of his particular self-
existence: what dies is not merely the outer encasement, which, being stripped.
of essential Being, is eo ipso dead, but also the abstraction of the Divine Bein
g. For the mediator, as long as his death has not yet accomplished the reconcili
ation, is something one-sided, which takes as essential Being the simple abstrac
t element of thought, not concrete reality. This one-sided extreme of self has n
ot yet equal worth and value with essential Being; the self first gets this as S
pirit. The death of this pictorial idea implies at the same time the death of th
e abstraction of Divine Being, which is not yet affirmed as a self. 'That death
is the bitterness of feeling of the "unhappy consciousness", when it feels that
God Himself is dead. This harsh utterance is the expression of inmost self-knowl
edge which has simply self for its content; it is the return of consciousness in
to the depth of darkness where Ego is nothing but bare identity with Ego, a dark
ness distinguishing and knowing nothing more outside it. This feeling thus means
, in point of fact, the loss of the Substance and of its objective existence ove
r against consciousness. But at the same time it is the pure subjectivity of Sub
stance, the pure certainty of itself, which it lacked when it was object or imme
diacy, or pure essential Being. This knowledge is thus spiritualization, whereby
Substance becomes Subject, by which its abstraction and lifelessness have expir
ed, and Substance therefore has become real, simple, and universal self-consciou
sness.
In this way, then, Spirit is Spirit knowing its own self. It knows itself; that,
which is for it object, exists, or, in other words, its figurative idea is the
true absolute content. As we saw, the content expresses just Spirit itself. It i
s at the same time not merely content of self-consciousness, and not merely obje
ct for self-consciousness; it is also actual Spirit. It is this by the fact of i
ts passing through the three elements of its nature: this movement through its w
hole self constitutes its actual reality. What moves itself, that is Spirit; it
is the subject of the movement, and it is likewise the moving process itself, or
the substance through which the subject passes. We saw how the notion of spirit
arose when we entered the sphere of religion: it was the process of spirit cert
ain of its self, which forgives evil, and in so doing puts aside its own simplic
ity and rigid unchangeableness: it was, to state it otherwise, the process, in w
hich what is absolutely in opposition recognizes itself as the same as its oppos
ite, and this knowledge breaks out into the "yea, yea", with which one extreme m
eets the other. The religious consciousness, to which the Absolute Being is reve
aled, beholds this notion, and does away with the distinction of its self from w
hat it beholds; and as it is Subject, so it is also Substance; and is thus itsel
f Spirit just because and in so far as it is this process.
This religious communion, however, is not yet fulfilled in this its self-conscio
usness. Its content, in general, is put before it in the form of a pictorial ide
a; so that this disruption still attaches even to the actual spiritual character
of the communion--to its return out of its figurative thinking; just as the ele
ment of pure thought itself was also hampered with that opposition.(15) This spi
ritual communion is not also consciously aware what it is; it is spiritual self-
consciousness, which is not object to itself as this self-consciousness, or does
not develop into clear consciousness of itself. Rather, so far as it is conscio
usness, it has before it those picture-thoughts which were considered.
We see self-consciousness at its last turning point become inward to itself and
attain to knowledge of its inner being, of its self-centredness. We see it relin
quish its natural existence, and reach pure negativity. But the positive signifi
cance--viz. that this negativity, or pure inwardness of knowledge is just as muc
h the self-identical essential Being: put other-wise, that Substance has here at
tained to being absolute self-consciousness--this is, for the devotional conscio
usness, an external other. It grasps this aspect-that the knowledge which become
s purely inward is inherently absolute simplicity, or Substance--as the pictoria
l idea of something which is not thus by its very conception, but as the act of
satisfaction obtained from an (alien) other. In other words, it is not really aw
are as a fact that this depth of pure self is the power by which the abstract es
sential Being is drawn down from its abstractness and raised to the level of sel
f by the force of this pure devotion. The action of the self hence retains towar
ds it this negative significance, because the relinquishment of itself on the pa
rt of substance is for the self something per se; the self does not at once gras
p and comprehend it, or does not find it in its own action as such.
Since this unity of Essential Being and Self has been inherently brought about,
consciousness has this idea also of its reconciliation, but in the form of an im
aginative idea. It obtains satisfaction by attaching, in an external way, to its
pure negativity the positive significance of the unity of itself with essential
Being. Its satisfaction thus itself remains hampered with the opposition of a b
eyond. Its own peculiar reconciliation therefore enters its consciousness as som
ething remote, something far away in the future, just as the reconciliation, whi
ch the other self achieved, appears as away in the distance of the past. Just as
the individual divine man(16) has an implied (essential, an sich) father and on
ly an actual mother, in like manner the universal divine man, the spiritual comm
union, has as its father its own proper action and knowledge, while its mother i
s eternal Love, which it merely feels, but does not behold in its consciousness
as an actual immediate object. Its reconciliation, therefore, is in its heart, b
ut still with its conscious life sundered in twain and its actual reality shatte
red. What falls within its consciousness as the immanent essential element, the
aspect of pure mediation, is the reconciliation that lies beyond: while what app
ears as actually present, as the aspect of immediacy and of existence, is the wo
rld which has yet to await transfiguration. The world is no doubt implicitly rec
onciled with the essential Being; and that Being no doubt knows that it no longe
r regards, the object as alienated from itself, but as one with itself in its Lo
ve. But for self-consciousness this immediate presence has not yet the form and
shape of spiritual reality. Thus the spirit of the communion is, in its immediat
e consciousness, separated from its religious consciousness, which declares inde
ed that these two modes of consciousness inherently are not separated; but this
is an implicitness which is not realized, or has not yet become an equally absol
ute explicit self-existence.

VIII. ABSOLUTE KNOWLEDGE(1)

THE Spirit manifested in revealed religion has not as yet surmounted its attitud
e of consciousness as such; or, what is the same thing, its actual self-consciou
sness is not at this stage the object it is aware of. Spirit as a whole and the
moments distinguished in it fall within the sphere of figurative thinking, and w
ithin the form of objectivity. The content of this figurative thought is Absolut
e Spirit. All that remains to be done now is to cancel and transcend this bare f
orm; or better, because the form appertains to consciousness as such, its true m
eaning must have already come out in the shapes or modes consciousness has assum
ed.
The surmounting of the object of consciousness in this way is not to be taken on
e-sidedly as meaning that the object showed itself returning into the self. It h
as a more definite meaning: it means that the object as such presented itself to
the self as a vanishing factor; and, furthermore, that the emptying of self-con
sciousness itself establishes thinghood, and that this externalization of self-c
onsciousness has not merely negative, but positive significance, a significance
not merely for us or per se, but for self-consciousness itself. The negative of
the object, its cancelling its own existence, gets, for self-consciousness, a po
sitive significance; or, self-consciousness knows this nothingness of the object
because on the one hand self-consciousness itself externalizes itself; for in d
oing so it establishes itself as object, or, by reason of the indivisible unity
characterizing its self-existence, sets up the object as its self. On the other
hand, there is also this other moment in the process, that self-consciousness ha
s just as really cancelled and superseded this self-relinquishment and objectifi
cation, and has resumed them into itself, and is thus at home with itself in its
otherness as such. This is the movement of consciousness, and in this process c
onsciousness is the totality of its moments.
Consciousness, at the same time, must have taken up a relation to the object in
all its aspects and phases, and have grasped its meaning from the point of view
of each of them. This totality of its determinate characteristics makes the obje
ct per se or inherently a spiritual reality; and it becomes so in truth for cons
ciousness, when the latter apprehends every individual one of them as self, i.e.
when it takes up towards them the spiritual relationship just spoken of.
The object is, then, partly immediate existence, a thing in general--correspondi
ng to immediate consciousness; partly an alteration of itself, its relatedness,
(or existence-for-another and existence-for-self), determinatenesss--correspondi
ng to perception; partly essential being or in the form of a universal-correspon
ding to understanding. The object as a whole is the mediated result [the syllogi
sm] or the passing of universality into individuality through specification, as
also the reverse process from individual to universal through cancelled individu
ality or specific determination.
These three specific aspects, then, determine the ways in which consciousness mu
st know the object as itself. This knowledge of which we are spearing is, howeve
r, not knowledge in the sense of pure conceptual comprehension of the object; he
re this knowledge is to be taken only in its development, has to be taken in its
various moments and set forth in the manner appropriate to consciousness as suc
h; and the moments of the notion proper, of pure knowledge, assume the form of s
hapes or modes of consciousness. For that reason the object does not yet, when p
resent in con- sciousness as such, appear as the inner essence of Spirit in the
way this has just been expressed. The attitude consciousness adopts in regard to
the object is not that of considering it either in this totality as such or in
the pure conceptual form; it is partly that of a mode or shape of consciousness
in general, partly a multitude of such modes which we [who analyze the process]
gather together, and in which the totality of the moments of the object and of t
he process of consciousness can be shown merely resolved into their moments.
To understand this method of grasping the object, where apprehension is a shape
or mode of consciousness, we have here only to recall the previous shapes of con
sciousness which came before us earlier in the argument.
As regards the object, then, so far as it is immediate, an indifferent objective
entity, we saw Reason, at the stage of "Observation", seeking and finding itsel
f in this indifferent thing--i.e. we saw it conscious that its activity is there
of an external sort, and at the same time conscious of the object merely as an
immediate object. We saw, too, its specific character take expression at its hig
hest stage in the infinite judgment: "the being of the ego is a thing". And, fur
ther, the ego is an immediate thing of sense. When ego is called a soul, it is i
ndeed represented also as a thing, but a thing in the sense of something invisib
le, impalpable, etc., i.e. in fact not as an immediate entity and not as that wh
ich is generally understood by a thing. That judgment, then, "ego is a thing", t
aken at first glance, has no spiritual content, or rather, is just the absence o
f spirituality. In its conception, however, it is in fact the most luminous and
illuminating judgment; and this, its inner significance, which is not yet made e
vident, is what the two other moments to be considered express.
The thing is ego. In point of fact, thing is transcended in this infinite judgme
nt. The thing is nothing in itself; it only has significance in relation, only t
hrough the ego and its reference to the ego. This moment came before consciousne
ss in pure insight and enlightenment. Things are simply and solely useful, and o
nly to be considered from the point of view of their utility. The trained and cu
ltivated self-consciousness, which has traversed the region of spirit in self-al
ienation, has, by giving up itself, produced the thing as its self; it retains i
tself, therefore, still in the thing, and knows the thing to have no independenc
e, in other words knows that the thing has essentially and solely a relative exi
stence. Or again--to give complete expression to the relationship, i.e. to what
here alone constitutes the nature of the object--the thing stands for something
that is self-existent; sense-certainty (sense-experience) is announced as absolu
te truth; but this self-existence is itself declared to be a moment which merely
disappears, and passes into its opposite, into a being at the mercy of an "othe
r".
But knowledge of the thing is not vet finished at this point. The thing must bec
ome known as self not merely in regard to the immediateness of its being and as
regards its determinateness, but also in the sense of essence or inner reality.
This is found in the case of Moral Self-consciousness. This mode of experience k
nows its knowledge as the absolute essential element, knows no other objective b
eing than pure will or pure knowledge. It is nothing but merely this will and th
is knowledge. Any other possesses merely non-essential being, i.e. being that ha
s no inherent nature per se, but only its empty husk. In so far as the moral con
sciousness, in its view of the world, lets existence drop out of the self, it ju
st as truly takes this existence back again into its self. In the form of consci
ence, finally, it is no longer this incessant alternation between the placing" a
nd the "displacing" [dissembling] of existence and self; it knows that its exist
ence as such is this pure certainty of its own self; the objective element, into
which qua acting it puts forth itself, is nothing else than pure knowledge of i
tself by itself.
These are the moments which compose the reconciliation of spirit with its own co
nsciousness proper. By themselves they are single and isolated; and it is their
spiritual unity alone which furnishes the power for this reconciliation. The las
t of these moments is, however, necessarily this unity itself, and, as we see, b
inds them all in fact into itself. Spirit certain of itself in its objective exi
stence takes as the element of its existence nothing else than this knowledge of
self. The declaration that what it does it does in accordance with the convicti
on of duty-this statement is the warrant for its own action, and makes good its
conduct.
Action is the first inherent division of the simple unity of the notion, and the
return out of this division. This first movement turns round into the second, s
ince the element of recognition puts itself forward as simple knowledge of duty
in contrast to the distinction and diremption that lie in action as such and, in
this way, form a rigid reality confronting action. In pardon, however, we saw h
ow this rigid fixity gives way and renounces its claims. Reality has here, qua i
mmediate existence, no other significance for self-consciousness than that of be
ing pure knowledge; similarly, qua determinate existence, or qua relation, what
is self-opposed is a knowledge partly of this purely individual self, partly of
knowledge qua universal. Herein it is established, at the same time, that the th
ird moment, universality, or the essence, means for each of the two opposite fac
tors merely knowledge. Finally they also cancel the empty opposition that still
remains, and are the knowledge of ego as identical with ego:-this individual sel
f which is immediately pure knowledge or universal.
This reconciliation of consciousness with self-consciousness thus proves to be b
rought about in a double- sided way; in the one case, in the religious mind, in
the other case, in consciousness itself as such. They axe distinguished inter se
by the fact that the one is this reconciliation in the form of implicit immanen
ce, the other in the form of explicit self-existence. As we have considered them
, they at the beginning fall apart. In the order in which the modes or shapes of
consciousness came before us, consciousness has reached the individual moments
of that order, and also their unification, long before ever religion gave its ob
ject the shape of actual self-consciousness. The unification of both aspects is
not yet brought to light; it is this that winds up this series of embodiments of
spirit, for in it spirit gets to the point where it knows itself not only as it
is inherently in itself, or in terms of its absolute content, nor only as it is
(objectively) for itself in terms of its bare form devoid of content, or in ter
ms of self-consciousness, but as it is in its self-completeness, as it is in its
elf and for itself.
This unification has, however, already taken place by implication, and has done
so in religion in the return of the figurative idea (Vorstellung) into self-cons
ciousness, but not according to the proper form, for the religious aspect is the
aspect of the essentially independent (Ansich) and stands in contrast to the pr
ocess of self-consciousness. The unification therefore belongs to this other asp
ect, which by contrast is the aspect of reflexion into self, is that side theref
ore which contains its self and its opposite, and contains them not only implici
tly, (an sich) or in a general way, but explicitly (fer sich) or expressly devel
oped and distinguished. The content, as well as the other aspect of self-conscio
us spirit, so far as it is the other aspect, have been brought to light and are
here in their completeness: the unification still a-wanting is the simple unity
of the notion. This notion is also already given with the aspect of self-conscio
usness; but as it previously came before us above, it, like all the other moment
s, has the form of being a particular mode or shape of consciousness. It is that
part of the embodiment of self-assured spirit which keeps within its essential
principle and was called the "beautiful soul". That is to say, the "beautiful so
ul" is its own knowledge of itself in its pure transparent unity--self-conscious
ness, which knows this pure knowledge of pure inwardness to be spirit, is not me
rely intuition of the divine, but the self intuition of God Himself.
Since this notion keeps itself fixedly opposed to its realization, it is the one
-sided shape which we saw before disappear into thin air, but also positively re
linquish itself and advance further. Through this act of realization, this objec
tless self-consciousness ceases to hold fast by itself, the determinateness of t
he notion in contrast with its fulfilment is canceled and done away with. Its se
lf-consciousness attains the form of universality; and what remains is its true
notion, the notion that has attained its realization--the notion in its truth, i
.e. in unity with its externalization. It is knowledge of pure knowledge, not in
the sense of an abstract essence such as duty is, but in the sense of an essent
ial being which is this knowledge, this individual pure -self-consciousness whic
h is therefore at the same time a genuine object; for this notion is the self-ex
isting self.
This notion gave itself its fulfilment partly in the acts performed by the spiri
t that is sure of itself. partly in religion. In the latter it won the absolute
content qua content or in the form of a figurative idea or of otherness for cons
ciousness. On the other hand, in the first the form is just the self, for that m
ode contains the active spirit sure of itself; the self accomplishes the life of
Absolute Spirit. This shape (mode), as we see, is that simple notion, which how
ever gives up its eternal essential Being, takes upon itself objective existence
, or acts. The power of diremption or of coming forth out of its inwardness lies
in the purity of the notion, for this purity is absolute abstraction of negativ
ity. In the same way the notion finds its element of reality, or the objective b
eing it contains, in pure knowledge itself; for this knowledge is simple immedia
cy, which is being and existence as well as essence, the former negative thought
, the latter positive thought. This existence, finally, is just as much that sta
te of reflexion into self which comes out of pure knowledge--both qua existence
and qua duty--and this is the state of evil. This process of "going into self" c
onstitutes the opposition lying in the notion, and is thus the appearance on the
scene of pure knowledge of the essence, a knowledge which does not act and is n
ot real. But to make its appearance in this opposition is to participate in it;
pure knowledge of essence has inherently relinquished its simplicity, for it is
the diremption of negativity which constitutes the notion. So far as this proces
s of diremption is the process of becoming self-centred, it is the principle of
evil: so far as it is the inherently essential, it is the principle which remain
s good.
Now what in the first instance takes place implicitly is at once for consciousne
ss, and is duplicated as well--is both for consciousness and is its self-existen
ce or its own proper action. The same thing that is already inherently establish
ed, thus repeats itself now as knowledge thereof on the part of consciousness an
d as conscious action. Each lays aside for the other the independence of charact
er with which each appears confronting the other. This waiving of independence i
s the same renunciation of the one-sidedness of the notion as constituted implic
itly the beginning; but it is now its own act of renunciation, just as the notio
n renounced is its own notion. That implicit nature of the beginning is in truth
as much mediated, because it is negativity; it now establishes itself as it is
in its truth; and the negative element exists as a determinate quality which eac
h has for the other, and is essentially self-cancelling, self-transcending. The
one of the two parts of the opposition is the disparity between existence within
itself, in its individuality, and universality; the other, disparity between it
s abstract universality and the self. The former dies to its self-existence, and
relinquishes itself, makes confession; the latter renounces the rigidity of its
abstract universality, and thereby dies to its lifeless self and its inert univ
ersality; so that the former is completed through the moment of universality, wh
ich is the essence, and the latter through universality, which is self. By this
process of action spirit has come to light in the form of pure universality of k
nowledge, which is self-consciousness as self-consciousness, which is simple uni
ty of knowledge. It is through action that spirit is spirit so as definitely to
exist; it raises its existence into the sphere of thought and hence into absolut
e opposition, and returns out of it through and within this very opposition.
Thus, then, what was in religion content, or a way of imagining (Vorstellen) an
other, is here the action proper of the self. The notion is the connecting princ
iple securing that the content is the action proper of the self. For this notion
is, as we see, the knowledge that the action of the self within itself is all t
hat is essential and all existence, the knowledge of this Subject as Substance a
nd of the Substance as this knowledge of its action. What we have done here, in
addition, is simply to gather together the particular moments, each of which in
principle exhibits the life of spirit in its entirety, and again to secure the n
otion in the form of the notion, whose content was disclosed in these moments, a
nd which had already presented itself in the form of a mode or shape of consciou
sness.
This last embodiment of spirit--spirit which at once gives its complete and true
content the form of self, and thereby realizes its notion, and in doing so rema
ins within its own notion--this is Absolute Knowledge. It is spirit knowing itse
lf in the shape of spirit, it is knowledge which comprehends through notions. Tr
uth is here not merely in itself absolutely identical with certainty; it has als
o the shape, the character of certainty of self; or in its existence--i.e. for s
pirit knowing it--it is in the form of knowledge of itself. Truth is the content
, which in religion is not as yet at one with its certainty. This identification
, however, is secured when the content has received the shape of self. By this m
eans, what constitutes the very essence, viz. the notion, comes to have the natu
re of existence, i.e. assumes the form of what is objective to consciousness. Sp
irit, appearing before consciousness in this element of existence, or, what is h
ere the same thing, produced by it in this element, is systematic Science.
The nature, moments, and process of this knowledge have then shown themselves to
be such that this knowledge is pure self-existence of self-consciousness.
It is ego, which is this ego and no other, and at the same time, immediately is
mediated, or sublated, universal ego. It has a content, which it distinguishes f
rom itself; for it is pure negativity, or self-diremption; it is consciousness.
This content in its distinction is itself the ego, for it is the process of supe
rseding itself, or the same pure negativity which constitutes ego. Ego is in it,
qua distinguished, reflected into itself; only then is the content comprehended
(begriffen) when ego in its otherness is still at home with itself. More precis
ely stated, this content is nothing else than the very process just spoken of; f
or the content is the spirit which traverses the whole range of its own being, a
nd does this for itself qua spirit, by the fact that it possesses the shape of t
he notion in its objectivity.
As to the actual existence of this notion, science does not appear in time and i
n reality till spirit has arrived at this stage of being conscious regarding its
elf. Qua spirit which knows what it is, it does not, exist before, and is not to
be found at all till after the completion of the task of mastering and constrai
ning its imperfect embodiment--the task of procuring for its consciousness the s
hape of its inmost essence, and in this manner bringing its self-consciousness l
evel with its consciousness. Spirit in and for itself is, when distinguished int
o its separate moments, self-existent knowledge, comprehension (Begreifen) in ge
neral, which as such has not yet reached the substance, or is not in itself abso
lute knowledge.
Now in actual reality the knowing substance exists, is there earlier than its fo
rm, earlier than the shape of the notion. For the substance is the undeveloped i
nherent nature, the ground and notion in its inert simplicity, the state of inwa
rdness or the self of spirit which is not yet there. What is there, what does ex
ist, is in the shape of still unexpressed simplicity, the undeveloped immediate,
or the object of imagining (Vorstellen) consciousness in general. Because knowl
edge (Erkennen) is a spiritual state of consciousness, which admits as real what
essentially is only so far as this is a being for the self and a being of the s
elf or a notion--knowledge has on this account merely a barren object to begin w
ith, in contrast to which the substance and the consciousness of this substance
are richer in content. The revelation which substance has in such a consciousnes
s is, in fact, concealment; for the substance is here still self-less existence
and nothing but certainty of self is revealed. To begin with, therefore, it is o
nly the abstract moments that belong to self-consciousness concerning the substa
nce. But since these moments are pure activities and must move forward by their
very nature, self-consciousness enriches itself till it has torn from consciousn
ess the entire substance, and absorbed into itself the entire structure of the s
ubstance with all its constituent elements. Since this negative attitude towards
objectivity is positive as well, establishes and fixes the content, it goes on
till it has produced these elements out of itself and thereby reinstated them on
ce more as objects of consciousness. In the notion, knowing itself as notion, th
e moments thus make their appearance prior to the whole in its complete fulfilme
nt; the movement of these moments is the process by which the whole comes into b
eing. In consciousness, on the other hand, the whole--but not as comprehended co
nceptually--is prior to the moments.
Time is just the notion definitely existent, and presented to consciousness in t
he form of empty intuition. Hence spirit necessarily appears in time, and it app
ears in time so long as it does not grasp its pure notion, i.e. so long as it do
es not annul time. Time is the pure self in external form, apprehended in intuit
ion, and not grasped and understood by the self, it is the notion apprehended on
ly through intuition. When this notion grasps itself, it supersedes its time cha
racter, (conceptually) comprehends intuition, and is intuition comprehended and
comprehending. Time therefore appears as spirit's destiny and necessity, where s
pirit is not yet complete within itself; it is the necessity compelling spirit t
o enrich the share self-consciousness has in consciousness, to put into motion t
he immediacy of the inherent nature (which is the form in which the substance is
present in consciousness); or, conversely, to realize and make manifest what is
inherent, regarded as inward and immanent, to make manifest that which is at fi
rst within--i.e. to vindicate it for spirit's certainty of self.
For this reason it must be said that nothing is known which does not fall within
experience, or (as it is also expressed) which is not felt to be true, which is
not given as an inwardly revealed eternal verity, as a sacred object of belief,
or whatever other expressions we care to employ. For experience just consists i
n this, that the content-and the content is spirit--in its inherent nature is su
bstance and so object of consciousness. But this substance, which is spirit, is
the development of itself explicitly to what it is inherently and implicitly; an
d only as this process of reflecting itself into itself is it essentially and in
truth spirit. It is inherently the movement which is the process of knowledge--
the transforming of that inherent nature into explicitness, of Substance into Su
bject, of the object of consciousness into the object of self-consciousness, i.e
. into an object that is at the same time transcended--in other words, into the
notion. This transforming process is a cycle that returns into itself, a cycle t
hat presupposes its beginning, and reaches its beginning only at the end. So far
as spirit, then, is of necessity this self-distinction, it appears as a single
whole, intuitively apprehended, over against its simple self-consciousness. And
since that whole is what is distinguished, it is distinguished into the intuitiv
ely apprehended pure notion, Time, and the Content, the inherent, implicit, natu
re. Substance, qua subject, involves the necessity, at first an inner necessity,
to set forth in itself what it inherently is, to show itself to be spirit. The
completed expression in objective form is--and is only when completed--at the sa
me time the reflexion of substance, the development of it into the self. Consequ
ently, until and unless spirit inherently completes itself, completes itself as
a world-spirit, it cannot reach its completion as self-conscious spirit. The con
tent of religion, therefore, expresses earlier in time than (philosophical) scie
nce what spirit is; but this science alone is the perfect form in which spirit t
ruly knows itself.
The process of carrying forward this form of knowledge of itself is the task whi
ch spirit accomplishes as actual History. The religious communion, in so far as
it is at the outset the substance of Absolute Spirit, is the crude form of consc
iousness, which has an existence all the harsher and more barbaric the deeper is
its inner spirit; and its inarticulate self has all the harder task in dealing
with its essence, the content of its consciousness alien to itself. Not till it
has surrendered the hope of cancelling that foreignness by an external, i.e. ali
en, method does it turn to itself, to its own peculiar world, in the actual pres
ent. It turns thither because to supersede that alien method means returning int
o self-consciousness. It thus discovers this world in the living present to be i
ts own property; and so has taken the first step to descend from the ideal intel
ligible world, or rather to quicken the abstract element of the intelligible wor
ld with concrete self-hood. Through "observation", on the one hand, it finds exi
stence in the shape of thought, and comprehends existence; and, conversely, it f
inds in its thought existence.(2) When, in the first instance, it has thus itsel
f expressed in an abstract way the immediate unity of thought and existence, of
abstract Essential Reality and Self; and when it has expressed the primal princi
ple of "Light" in a purer form, viz. as unity of extension and existence-for "ex
istence" is an ultimate simple term more adequate to thought than "light"-and in
this way has revived again in thought the Substance of the Orient;(3) thereupon
spirit at once recoils in horror from this abstract unity, from this self-less
substantiality, and maintains as against it the principle of Individuality.(4) B
ut after Spirit has externalized this principle in the process of its culture, h
as thereby made it an objective existence and established it throughout the whol
e of existence, has arrived at the idea of "Utility"(5) and in the sphere of abs
olute freedom has grasped existence as its Individual Will,(6)-after these stage
s, spirit then brings to light the thought that lies in its inmost depths, and e
xpresses essential Reality in the form Ego=Ego.(7)
This "Ego identical with Ego" is, however, the self- reflecting process; for sin
ce this identity qua absolute negativity is absolute distinction, the self-ident
ity of the Ego stands in contrast to this absolute distinction, which--being pur
e distinction and at the same time objective to the self that knows itself--has
to be expressed as Time. In this way, just as formerly Essential Reality was exp
ressed as unity of thought and extension, it would here be interpreted as unity
of thought and time. But distinction left to itself, unresting, unhalting time,
really collapses upon itself; it is the objective quiescence of extension; while
this latter is pure identity with self--is Ego.
Again, Ego is not merely self, it is identity of self with itself. This identity
, however, is complete and immediate unity with self; in other words this Subjec
t is just as much Substance. Substance by itself alone would be void and empty I
ntuition (Anschauen), or the intuition of a content which qua specific would hav
e merely a contingent character and would be devoid of necessity. Substance woul
d only stand for the Absolute in so far as Substance was thought of or "intuited
" as absolute unity; and all content would, as regards its diversity, have to fa
ll outside the Substance and be due to reflexion, a process which does not belon
g to Substance, because Substance would not be Subject, would not be conceived a
s Spirit, as reflecting about self and reflecting itself into self. if, neverthe
less, a content were to be spoken of, then on the one hand it would only exist i
n order to be thrown into the empty abyss of the Absolute, while on the other it
would be picked up in external fashion from sense perception. Knowledge would a
ppear to have come by things, by what is distinct from knowledge itself, and to
have got at the distinctions between the endless variety of things, without any
one understanding how or where all this came from.(8)
Spirit, however, has shown itself to us to be neither the mere withdrawal of sel
f-consciousness into its pure inwardness, nor the mere absorption of self-consci
ousness into Substance and the nothingness of its (self-) distinction. Spirit is
the movement of the self which empties (externalizes) itself of self and sinks
itself within its own substance, and qua subject, both has gone out of that subs
tance into itself, making its substance an object and a content, and also supers
edes this distinction of objectivity and content. That first reflexion out of im
mediacy is the subject's process of distinction of itself from its substance, th
e notion in a process of self-diremption, the going-into-itself and the coming i
nto being of the pure ego. Since this distinction is the pure action of Ego=Ego,
the notion is the necessity for and the rising of existence, which has the subs
tance for its essential nature and subsists on its own account. But this subsist
ing of existence for itself is the notion established in determinate form, and i
s thereby the notion's own inherent movement--that of descending into the simple
substance, which is only subject by being this negativity and going through thi
s process.
Ego has not to take its stand on the form of self-consciousness in opposition to
the form of substantiality and objectivity, as if it were afraid of relinquishi
ng or externalizing itself. The power of spirit lies rather in remaining one wit
h itself when giving up itself, and, because it is self-contained and self-subsi
stent, in establishing as mere moments its explicit self-existence as well as it
s implicit inherent nature. Nor again is Ego a tertium quid which casts distinct
ions back into the abyss of the Absolute, and declares them all to mean the same
there. On the contrary, true knowledge lies rather in the seeming inactivity wh
ich merely watches how what is distinguished is self-moved by its very nature an
d returns again into its own unity.
With absolute knowledge, then, Spirit has wound up the process of its embodiment
, so far as the assumption of those various shapes or modes is affected with the
insurmountable distinction which consciousness implies [i.e. the distinction of
consciousness from its object or content]. Spirit has attained the pure element
of its existence, the notion. The content is, in view of the freedom of its own
existence, the self that empties (externalizes) itself; in other words, that co
ntent is the immediate unity of self-knowledge. The pure process of thus externa
lizing itself constitutes--when we consider this process in its content--the nec
essity of this content. The diversity of content is, qua determinate, due to rel
ation, and is not inherent; and its restless activity consists in cancelling and
superseding itself, or is negativity. Thus the necessity or diversity, like its
free existence, is the self too; and in this self-form, in which existence is i
mmediately thought, the content is a notion. Seeing, then, that Spirit has attai
ned the notion, it unfolds its existence and develops its processes in this ethe
r of its life and is (Philosophical) Science.(9) The moments of its process are
set forth therein no longer as determinate modes or shapes of consciousness, but
--since the distinction, which consciousness implies, has reverted to and has be
come a distinction within the self--as determinate notions, and as the organic s
elf-explaining and self-constituted process of these notions. While in the Pheno
menology of Mind each moment is the distinction of knowledge and truth, and is t
he process in which that distinction is canceled and transcended, Absolute Knowl
edge does not contain this distinction and supersession of distinction. Rather,
since each moment has the form of the notion, it unites the objective form of tr
uth and the knowing self in an immediate unity. Each individual moment does not
appear as the process of passing back and forward from consciousness or figurati
ve (imaginative) thought to self-consciousness and conversely: on the contrary,
the pure shape, liberated from the condition of being an appearance in mere cons
ciousness,--the pure notion with its further development,--depends solely on its
pure characteristic nature. Conversely, again, there corresponds to every abstr
act moment of Absolute Knowledge a mode in which mind as a whole makes its appea
rance. As the mind that actually exists is not richer than it,(10) so, too, mind
 in its actual content is not poorer. To know the pure notions of knowledge in t
he form in which they are modes or shapes of consciousness--this constitutes the
aspect of their reality, according to which their essential element, the notion
, appearing there in its simple mediating activity as thinking, breaks up and se
parates the moments of this mediation and exhibits them to itself in accordance
with their immanent opposition.
Absolute Knowledge contains within itself this necessity of relinquishing itself
from notion, and necessarily involves the transition of the notion into conscio
usness. For Spirit that knows itself is, just for the reason that it grasps its
own notion, immediate identity with itself; and this, in the distinction that it
implies, is the certainty of what is immediate or is sense-consciousness--the b
eginning from which we started. This process of releasing itself from the form o
f its self is the highest freedom and security of its knowledge of itself.
All the same, this relinquishment (externalization) of self is still incomplete.
This process expresses the relation of the certainty of its self to the object,
an object which, just by being in a relation, has not yet attained its full fre
edom. Knowledge is aware not only of itself, but also of the negative of itself,
or its limit. Knowing its limit means knowing how to sacrifice itself. This sac
rifice is the self-abandonment, in which Spirit sets forth, in the form of free
fortuitous happening, its process of becoming Spirit, intuitively apprehending o
utside it its pure self as Time, and likewise its existence as Space.(11) This l
ast form into which Spirit passes, Nature, is its living immediate process of de
velopment. Nature-Spirit divested of self (externalized)--is, in its actual exis
tence, nothing but this eternal process of abandoning its (Nature's) own indepen
dent subsistence, and the movement which reinstates Subject.
The other aspect, however, in which Spirit comes into being, History, is the pro
cess of becoming in terms of knowledge, a conscious self-mediating process--Spir
it externalized and emptied into Time. But this form of abandonment is, similarl
y, the emptying of itself by itself; the negative is negative of itself. This wa
y of becoming presents a slow procession and succession of spiritual shapes (Gei
stern), a gallery of pictures, each of which is endowed with the entire wealth o
f Spirit, and moves so slowly just for the reason that the self has to permeate
and assimilate all this wealth of its substance. Since its accomplishment consis
ts in Spirit knowing what it is, in fully comprehending its substance, this know
ledge means its concentrating itself on itself (Insichgehen), a state in which S
pirit leaves its external existence behind and gives its embodiment over to Reco
llection (Erinnerung). In thus concentrating itself on itself, Spirit is engulfe
d in the night of its own self-consciousness; its vanished existence is, however
, conserved therein; and this superseded existence--the previous state, but born
anew from the womb of knowledge--is the new stage of existence, a new world, an
d a new embodiment or mode of Spirit. Here it has to begin all over again at its
immediacy,(12) as freshly as before, and thence rise once more to the measure o
f its stature, as if , for it, all that preceded were lost, and as if it had lea
rned nothing from the experience of the spirits that preceded. But re-collection
(Er- innerung) has conserved that experience. and is the inner being, and, in f
act, the higher form of the substance. While, then, this phase of Spirit begins
all over again its formative development, apparently starting solely from itself
, yet at the same time it commences at a higher level. The realm of spirits deve
loped in this way, and assuming definite shape in existence, constitutes a succe
ssion, where one detaches and sets loose the other, and each takes over from its
predecessor the empire of the spiritual world. The goal of the process is the r
evelation of the depth of spiritual life, and this is the Absolute Notion. This
revelation consequently means superseding its "depth", is its "extension" or spa
tial embodiment, the negation of this inwardly self-centred (insichseiend) ego--
a negativity which is its self-relinquishment, its externalization, or its subst
ance: and this revelation is also its temporal embodiment, in that this external
ization in its very nature relinquishes (externalizes) itself, and so exists at
once in its spatial extension" as well as in its "depth" or the self. The goal,
which is Absolute Knowledge or Spirit knowing itself as Spirit, finds its pathwa
y in the recollection of spiritual forms (Geister) as they are in themselves and
as they accomplish the organization of their spiritual kingdom. Their conservat
ion, looked at from the side of their free existence appearing in the form of co
ntingency, is History; looked at from the side of their intellectually comprehen
ded organization, it is the Science of the ways in which knowledge appears.(13)
Both together, or History (intellectually) comprehended (begriffen), form at onc
e the recollection and the Golgotha of Absolute Spirit, the reality, the truth,
the certainty of its throne, without which it were lifeless, solitary, and alone
. Only
The chalice of this realm of spirits foams forth to God His own Infinitude

From PHILOSOPHY OF MIND

B. REVEALED RELIGION(1)
¤ 564 It lies essentially in the notion of religion, - the religion i.e. whose con
tent is absolute mind - that it be revealed, and, what is more, revealed by God.
Knowledge (the principle by which the substance is mind) is a self-determining
principle, as infinite self-realizing form - it therefore is manifestation out a
nd out. The spirit is only spirit in so far as it is for the spirit, and in the
absolute religion it is the absolute spirit which manifests no longer abstract e
lements of its being but itself.
The old conception - due to a one-sided survey of human life - of Nemesis, which
made the divinity and its action in the world only a levelling power, dashing t
o pieces everything high and great - was confronted by Plato and Aristotle with
the doctrine that God is not envious. The same answer may be given to the modem
assertions that man cannot ascertain God. These assertions (and more than assert
ions they are not) are the more illogical, because made within a religion which
is expressly called the revealed; for according to them it would rather be the r
eligion in which nothing of God was revealed, in which he had not revealed himse
lf, and those belonging to it would be the heathen 'who know not God'. If the wo
rd 'God' is taken in earnest in religion at all, it is from Him, the theme and c
entre of religion, that the method of divine knowledge may and must begin: and i
f self-revelation is refused Him, then the only thing left to constitute His nat
ure would be to ascribe envy to Him.. But clearly if the word 'Mind' is to have
a meaning, it implies the revelation of Him.
If we recollect how intricate is the knowledge of the divine Mind for those who
are not content with the homely pictures of faith but proceed to thought - at fi
rst only 'rationalizing' reflection, but afterwards, as in duty bound, to specul
ative comprehension, it may almost create surprise that so many, and especially
theologians whose vocation it is to deal with these Ideas, have tried to get off
their task by gladly accepting anything offered them for this behoof. And nothi
ng serves better to shirk it than to adopt the conclusion that man knows nothing
of God. To know what God as spirit is - to apprehend this accurately and distin
ctly in thoughts - requires careful and thorough speculation. It includes, in it
s forefront, the propositions: God is God only so far as he knows him-self: his
self-knowledge is, further, a self-consciousness in man and man's knowledge of G
od, which proceeds to man's self- knowledge in God. - See the profound elucidati
on of these propositions in the work from which they are taken: Aphorisms on Kno
wing and Not-knowing, by C. F. G - 1.: Berlin 1829.
¤ 565 When the immediacy and sensuousness of shape and knowledge is superseded, Go
d is, in point of content, the essential and actual spirit of nature and spirit,
while in point of form he is, first of all, presented to consciousness as a men
tal representation. This quasi-pictorial representation gives to the elements of
his content, on one hand, a separate being, making them presuppositions towards
each other, and phenomena which succeed each other; their relationship it makes
a series of events according to finite reflective categories. But, on the other
hand, such a form of finite representationalism is also overcome and superseded
in the faith which realizes one spirit and in the devotion of worship.
¤ 566 In this separating, the form parts from the content: and in the form the dif
ferent functions of the notion part off into special spheres or media, in each o
f which the absolute spirit exhibits itself; (a) as eternal content, abiding sel
f-centred, even in its manifestation; (b) as distinction of the eternal essence
from its manifestation, which by this difference becomes the phenomenal world in
to which the content enters; (c) as infinite return, and reconciliation with the
eternal being, of the world it gave away - the withdrawal of the eternal from t
he phenomenal into the unity of its fullness.
¤ 567 (A) Under the 'moment' of Universality - the sphere of pure thought or the a
bstract medium of essence - it is therefore the absolute spirit, which is at fir
st the presupposed principle, not, however, staying aloof and inert, but (as und
erlying and essential power under the reflective category of causality) creator
of heaven and earth: but yet in this eternal sphere rather only begetting himsel
f as his son, with whom, though different, he still remains in original identity
- just as, again, this differentiation of him from the universal essence eterna
lly supersedes itself, and, through this mediating of a self-superseding mediati
on, the first substance is essentially as concrete individuality and subjectivit
y - is the Spirit.
¤ 568 Under the 'moment' of particularity, or of judgement, it is this concrete et
ernal being which is presupposed.- its movement is the creation of the phenomena
l world. The eternal 'moment' of mediation - of the only Son - divides itself to
become the antithesis of two separate worlds. On one hand is heaven and earth,
the elemental and the concrete nature - on the other hand, standing in action an
d reaction with such nature, the spirit, which therefore is finite. That spirit,
as the extreme of inherent negativity, completes its independence till it becom
es wickedness, and is that extreme through its connection with a confronting nat
ure and through its own naturalness thereby investing it. Yet, amid that natural
ness, it is, when it thinks, directed towards the Eternal, though, for that reas
on, only standing to it in an external connection.
¤ 569 (c) Under the 'moment' of individuality as such - of subjectivity and the no
tion itself, in which the contrast of universal and particular has sunk to its i
dentical ground, the place of presupposition (1) is taken by the universal subst
ance, as actualized out of its abstraction into an individual self-consciousness
. This individual, who as such is identified with the essence - (in the Eternal
sphere he is called the Son) - is transplanted into the world of time, and in hi
m wickedness is implicitly overcome. Further, this immediate, and thus sensuous,
existence of the absolutely concrete is represented as putting himself in judge
ment and expiring in the pain of negativity, in which he, as infinite subjectivi
ty, keeps himself unchanged, and thus, as absolute return from that negativity a
nd as universal unity of universal and individual essentiality, has realized his
being as the Idea of the spirit, eternal, but alive and present in the world.
¤ 570 (2) This objective totality of the divine man who is the Idea of the spirit
is the implicit presupposition for the finite immediacy of the single subject. F
or such subject therefore it is at first an Other, an object of contemplating vi
sion - but the vision of implicit truth, through which witness of the spirit in
him, he, on account of his immediate nature, at first characterized himself as n
ought and wicked. But, secondly, after the example of his truth, by means of the
faith on the unity (in that example implicitly accomplished) of universal and i
ndividual essence, he is also the movement to throw off his immediacy, his natur
al man and self-will, to close himself in unity with that example (who is his im
plicit life) in the pain of negativity, and thus to know himself made one with t
he essential Being. Thus the Being of Beings (3) through this mediation brings a
bout its own indwelling in self-consciousness, and is the actual presence of the
essential and self-subsisting spirit who is all in all.
¤ 571 These three syllogisms, constituting the one syllogism of the absolute self-
mediation of spirit, are the revelation of that spirit whose life is set out as
a cycle of concrete shapes in pictorial thought. From this its separation into p
arts, with a temporal and external sequence, the unfolding of the mediation cont
racts itself in the result - where the spirit closes in unity with itself - not
merely to the simplicity of faith and devotional feeling, but even to thought. I
n the immanent simplicity of thought the unfolding still has its expansion, yet
is all the while known as an indivisible coherence of the universal, simple, and
eternal spirit in itself. In this form of truth, truth is the object of philoso
phy.
If the result - the realized Spirit in which all mediation has superseded itself
- is taken in a merely formal, contentless sense, so that the spirit is not als
o at the same time known as implicitly existent and objectively self-unfolding;
- then that infinite subjectivity is the merely formal self-consciousness, knowi
ng itself in itself as absolute - Irony. Irony, which can make every objective r
eality nought and vain, is itself the emptiness and vanity, which from itself, a
nd therefore by chance and its own good pleasure, gives itself direction and con
tent, remains master over it, is not bound by it - and, with the assertion that
it stands on the very summit of religion and philosophy, falls back rather into
the vanity of wilfulness. It is only in proportion as the pure infinite form, th
e self-centred manifestation, throws off the one-sidedness of subjectivity in wh
ich it is the vanity of thought, that it is the free thought which has its infin
ite characteristic at the same time as essential and actual content, and has tha
t content as an object in which it is also free. Thinking, so far, is only the f
ormal aspect of the absolute content.

LECTURES ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

LECTURES ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION I

INTRODUCTION TO THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

A. THE RELATION OP THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION TO ITS PRESUPPOSITIONS AND TO THE

PRINCIPLES OF THE TlME .

I. The severance of religion from the free worldly consciousness

II. The position of the philosophy of religion relatively to philosophy and reli
gion.
1. The attitude of philosophy to religion generally .
2. The relation of the philosophy of religion to the system of philosophy.
3. The relation of the philosophy of religion to positive religion
III. The relation of the philosophy of religion to the current principles of the
religious consciousness..
1. Philosophy and the prevalent indifference to definite dogmas .
2. The historical treatment of dogmas .
3. Philosophy and immediate knowledge

B. PRELIMINARY QUESTIONS

C. DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT

PART I.

THE CONCEPTION OF RELIGION

A. OF GOD

B. THE RELIGIOUS ATTITUDE

I. The necessity of the religious standpoint
II. The forms of the religious consciousness.
1. The form of feeling.
2. Perception.
3. Idea, or ordinary thought
III. The necessity and mediation of the religious attitude in the form of though
t.
1. The dialectic of idea .
2. The mediation of the religious consciousness in itself
a. Immediate knowledge and mediation
b. Mediated knowledge as observation and reflection
c. Finiteness in sensuous existence.
- Finiteness from the point of view of reflectiony.
- The rational way of looking at finitenesse.
- The transition to the speculative conception of religion.
3. The speculative notion or conception of religion
C. WORSHIP OR CULTUS
I. Of faith
II. The definite character and special forms of worship, or cultus
III. The relation of religion to the State

PART II.

DEFINITE RELIGION
Division of the subject

FIRST DIVISION.

THE RELIGION OF NATURE

I. Immediate religion
a. Magic
b. The objective characteristics of the religion of magic
c. Worship or cultus in the religion of magic
II. The division of consciousness within itself
1. The Chinese religion, or the religion of measure
a. The general character of this religion
b.The historical existence of this religion.
c. Worship or cultus

IT has appeared to me to be necessary to make religion by itself the object of p

hilosophical consideration, and to add on this study of it, in the form of a spe
cial part, to philosophy as a whole. By way of introduction I shall, however, fi
rst of all (A) give some account of the severance or division of consciousness,
which awakens the need our science has to satisfy, and describe the relation of
this science to philosophy and religion, as also^to the prevalent principles of
the religious consciousness. Then, after I have (B) touched upon some preliminar
y questions which follow from those relations, I shall give (C) the division of
the subject.
To begin with, it is necessary to recollect generally what object we have before
us in the Philosophy of Religion, and what is our ordinary idea of religion. We
know that in religion we withdraw ourselves from what is temporal, and that rel
igion is for our consciousness that region in which all the enigmas of the world
are solved, all the contradictions of deeper-reaching thought have their meanin
g unveiled, and where the voice of the heart's pain is silenced the region of et
ernal truth, of eternal rest, of eternal peace. Speaking generally, it is throug
h thought, concrete thought, or, to put it more definitely, it is by reason of h
is being Spirit, that man is man ; and from man as Spirit proceed all the many d
evelopments of the sciences and arts, the interests of political life, and all t
hose conditions which have reference to man's freedom and will. But all these ma
nifold forms of human relations, activities, and pleasures, and all the ways in
which these are intertwined ; all that has worth and dignity for man, all wherei
n he seeks his happiness, his glory, and his pride, finds its ultimate centre in
religion, in the thought, the consciousness, and the feeling of God. Thus God i
s the beginning of all things, and the end of all things. As all things proceed
from this point, so all return back to it again. He is the centre which gives li
fe and quickening to all things, and which animates and preserves in existence a
ll the various forms of being. In religion man places himself in a relation to t
his centre, in which all other relations concentrate themselves, and in so doing
he rises up to the highest level of consciousness and to the region which is fr
ee from relation to what is other than itself, to something which is absolutely
self-sufficient, the unconditioned, what is free, and is its own object and end.

Religion, as something which is occupied with this final object and end, is ther
efore absolutely free, and is its own end ; for all other aims converge in this
ultimate end, and in presence of itthey vanish and cease to have value of their
own. No other aim can hold its ground against this, and here alone all find thei
r fulfilment. In the region where the spirit occupies itself with this end, it u
nburdens itself of all finiteness, and wins for itself final satisfaction and de
liverance; for here the spirit relates itself no longer to something that is oth
er than itself, and that is limited, but to the unlimited and infinite, and this
is an infinite relation, a relation of freedom, and no longer of dependence. He
re its consciousness is absolutely free, and is indeed true consciousness, becau
se it is consciousness of absolute truth. In its character as feeling, this cond
ition of freedom is the sense of satisfaction which we call blessedness, while a
s activity it has nothing further to do than to manifest the honour of God and t
o reveal His glory, and in this attitude it is no longer with himself that man i
s concerned with his own interests or his empty pride but with the absolute end.
All the various peoples feel that it is in the religious consciousness they pos
sess truth, and they have always regarded religion as constituting their true di
gnity and the Sabbath of their life. Whatever awakens in us doubt and fear, all
sorrow, all care, all the limited interests of finite life, we leave behind on t
he shores of time ; and as from the highest peak of a mountain, far away from al
l definite view of what is earthly, we look down calmly upon all the limitations
of the landscape and of the world, so with the spiritual eye man, lifted out of
the hard realities of this actual world, contemplates it as something having on
ly the semblance of existence, which seen from this pure region bathed in the be
ams of the spiritual sun, merely reflects back its shades of colour, its varied
tints and lights, softened away into eternal rest. In this region of spirit flow
the streams of forgetfulness from which Psyche drinks, and in which she drowns
all sorrow, while the dark things of this life are softened away into a dream-li
ke vision, and become transfigured until they are a mere framework for the brigh
tness of the Eternal.
This image of the Absolute may have a more or less present vitality and certaint
y for the religious and devout mind, and be a present source of pleasure ; or it
may be represented as something longed and hoped for, far off, and in the futur
e. Still it always remains a certainty, and its rays stream as something divine
into this present temporal life, giving the consciousness of the active presence
of truth, even amidst the anxieties which torment the soul here in this region
of time. Faith recognises it as the truth, as the substance of actual existing t
hings ; and what thus forms the essence of religious contemplation, is the vital
force in the present -world, makes itself actively felt in the life of the indi
vidual, and governs his entire conduct. Such is the general perception, sensatio
n, consciousness, or however we may designate it, of religion. To consider, to e
xamine, and to comprehend its nature is the object of the present lectures. We m
ust first of all, however, definitely understand, in reference to the end we hav
e in view, that it is not the concern of philosophy to produce religion in any i
ndividual. Its existence is, on the contrary, presupposed as forming what is fun
damental in every one. So far as man's essential nature is concerned, nothing ne
w is to be introduced into him. To try to do this would be as absurd as to give
a dog printed writings to chew, under the idea that in this way you could put mi
nd into it. He who has not extended his spiritual interests beyond the hurry and
 bustle of this finite world, nor succeeded in lifting himself above this life t
hrough aspiration, through the anticipation, through the feeling of the Eternal,
and who has not gazed upon the pure ether of the soul, does not possess in hims
elf that element which it is our object here to comprehend.
It may happen that religion is awakened in the heart by means of philosophical k
nowledge, but it is not necessarily so. It is not the purpose of philosophy to e
dify, and quite as little is it necessary for it to make good its claims by show
ing in any particular case that it must produce religious feeling in the individ
ual. Philosophy, it is true, has to develop the necessity of religion in and for
itself, and to grasp the thought that Spirit must of necessity advance from the
other modes of its will in conceiving and feeling to this absolute mode ; but i
t is the universal destiny of Spirit which is thus accomplished. It is another m
atter to raise up the individual subject to this height. The self-will, the perv
ersity, or the indolence of individuals may interfere with the necessity of thei
r universal spiritual nature ; individuals may deviate from it, and attempt to g
et for themselves a standpoint of their own, and hold to it. This possibility of
letting oneself drift, through inertness, to the standpoint of untruth, or of l
ingering there consciously and purposely, is involved in the freedom of the subj
ect, while planets, plants, animals, cannot deviate from the necessity of their
nature from their truth and become what they ought to be. But in human freedom w
hat is and what ought to be are separate. This freedom brings with it the power
of free choice, and it is possible for it to sever itself from its necessity, fr
om its laws, and to work in opposition to its true destiny. Therefore, although
philosophical knowledge should clearly perceive the necessity of the religious s
tandpoint, and though the will should learn in the sphere of reality the nullity
of its separation, all this does not hinder the will from being able to persist
in its obstinacy, and to stand aloof from its necessity and truth.
There is a common and shallow manner of arguing against cognition or philosophic
al knowledge, as when, for instance, it is said that such and such a man has a k
nowledge of God, and yet remains far from religion, and has not become godly. It
is not, however, the aim of knowledge to lead to this, nor is it meant to do so
. ' What knowledge must do is to know religion as something which already exists
.' It is neither its intention nor its duty to induce this or that person, any p
articular empirical subject, to be religious if he has not been so before, if he
has nothing of religion in himself, and does not wish to have.
But the fact is, no man is so utterly ruined, so lost, and so bad, nor can we re
gard any one as being so wretched that he has no religion whatever in him, even
if it were only that he has the fear of it, or some yearning after it, or a feel
ing of hatred towards it. For even in tins last case he is inwardly occupied wit
h it, and cannot free himself from it. As man, religion is essential to him, and
is not a feeling foreign to his nature. Yet the essential question is the relat
ion of religion to his general theory of the universe, and it is with this that
philosophical knowledge connects itself, and upon which it essentially works. In
this relation we have the source of the division which arises in opposition to
the primary absolute tendency of the spirit toward religion, and here, too, all
the manifold forms of consciousness, and their most widely differing connections
with the main interest of religion, have sprung up. Before the Philosophy of Re
ligion can sum itself up in its own peculiar conception, it must work itself thr
ough all those ramifications of the interests of the time which have at present
concentrated themselves in the widely-extended sphere of religion. At first the
movement of the principles of the time has its place outside of philosophical st
udy, but this movement pushes on to the point at which it comes into contact, st
rife, and antagonism with philosophy. We shall consider this opposition and its
solution when we have examined the opposition as it still maintains itself outsi
de of philosophy, and have seen it develop until it reaches that completed state
where it involves philosophical knowledge in itself.
THE RELATION OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION TO ITS PRESUPPOSITIONS AND TO THE PRI
NCIPLES OF THE TIME.

I. THE SEVERANCE OF RELIGION FROM THE FREE WORLDLY CONSCIOUSNESS.

a. In the relation in which religion, even in its immediacy, stands to the other
forms of the consciousness of man, there already lie germs of division, since b
oth sides are conceived of as in a condition of separation relatively to each ot
her. In their simple relation they already constitute two kinds of pursuits, two
different regions of consciousness, and we pass to and fro from the one to the
other alternately only. Thus man has in his actual worldly life a number of work
ing days during which he occupies himself with his own special interests, with w
orldly aims in general, and with the satisfaction of his needs ; and then he has
a Sunday, when he lays all this aside, collects his thoughts, and, released fro
m absorption in finite occupations, lives to himself and to the higher nature wh
ich is in him, to his true essential being. But into this separateness of the tw
o sides there directly enters a double modification.
(a.) Let us consider first of all the religion of the godly man ; that is, of on
e who truly deserves to be so called. Faith is still presupposed as existing irr
espective of, and without opposition to, anything else. To believe in God is thu
s in its simplicity, something different from that where a man, with reflection
and with the consciousness that something else stands opposed to this faith, say
s, " I believe in God." Here the need of justification, of inference, of controv
ersy, has already come in. Now that religion of the simple, godly man is not kep
t shut off and divided from the rest of his existence and life, but, on the cont
rary, it breathes its influence over all his feelings and actions, and his consc
iousness brings all the aims and objects of his worldly life into relation to Go
d, as to its infinite and ultimate source. Every moment of his finite existence
and activity, of his sorrow and joy, is lifted up by him out of his limited sphe
re, and by being thus lifted up produces in him the idea and sense of his eterna
l nature. The rest of his life, in like manner, is led under the conditions of c
onfidence, of custom, of dutif ulness, of habit ; he is that which circumstances
and nature have made him, and he takes his life, his circumstances, and rights
as he receives everything, namely, as a lot or destiny which he does not underst
and. It is so. In regard to God, he either takes what is His and gives thanks, o
r else he offers it up to Him freely as a gift of free grace. The rest of his co
nscious life is thus subordinated, without reflection, to that higher region.
. From the worldly side, however, the distinction involved in this relation deve
lops until it becomes opposition. It is true that the development of this side d
oes not seem to affect religion injuriously, and all action seems to limit itsel
f strictly to that side in the matter. Judging from what is expressly acknowledg
ed, religion is still looked upon as what is highest ; but as a matter of fact i
t is not so, and starting from the worldly side, ruin and disunion creep over in
to religion. The development of this distinction may be generally designated as
the maturing of the understanding and of human aims. While understanding awakens
in human life and in science, and reflection has become independent, the will s
ets before itself absolute aims ; for example, justice, the state, objects which
are to have absolute worth, to be in and for themselves. Thus research recognis
es the laws, the constitution, the order, and the peculiar characteristics of na
tural things, and of the activities and productions of Spirit. Now these experie
nces and forms of knowledge, as well as the willing and actual carrying out of t
hese aims, is a work of man, both of his understanding and will. In them he is i
n presence of what is his own. Although he sets out from what is, from what he f
inds, yet he is no longer merely one who knows, who has these rights ; but what
he makes out of that which is given in knowledge and in will is his affair, his
work, and he has the consciousness that he has produced it. Therefore these prod
uctions constitute his glory and his pride, and provide for him an immense, an i
nfinite wealth that world of his intelligence, of his knowledge, of his external
possession, of his rights and deeds.
Thus the spirit has entered into the condition of opposition as yet, it is true,
artlessly, and without at first knowing it but the opposition comes to be a con
scious one, for the spirit now moves between two sides, of which the distinction
has actually developed itself. The one side is that in which the spirit knows i
tself to be its own, where it lives in its own aims and interests, and determine
s itself on its own authority as independent and selfsustaining. The other side
is that where the spirit recognises a higher Power absolute duties, duties witho
ut rights belonging to them, and what the spirit receives for the accomplishment
of its duties is always regarded as grace alone. In the first instance it is th
e independence of the spirit which is the foundation, here its attitude is that
of humility and dependence. Its religion is accordingly distinguished from what
we have in that region of independence by this, that it restricts knowledge, sci
ence, to the worldly side, and leaves for the sphere of religion, feeling and fa
ith.
(.) Notwithstanding, that aspect of independence involves this also, that its ac
tion is conditioned, and knowledge and will must have experience of the fact tha
t it is thus conditioned. Man demands his right ; whether or not he actually get
s it, is something independent of his efforts, and he is referred in the matter
to an Other. In the act of knowledge he sets out from the organisation and order
of nature, and this is something given. The content of his sciences is a materi
al outside of him. Thus the two sides, that of independence and that of conditio
nality, enter into relation with each other, and this relation leads man to the
avowal that everything is made by God all things which constitute the content of
his knowledge, which he takes possession of, and uses as means for his ends, as
well as he himself, the spirit and the spiritual faculties of which he, as he s
ays, makes use, in order to attain to that knowledge.
But this admission is cold and lifeless, because that which constitutes the vita
lity of this consciousness, in which it is "at home with itself," and is self-co
nsciousness, this insight, this knowledge are wanting in it. All that is determi
ned comes, on the contrary, to be included in the sphere of knowledge, and of hu
man, self-appointed aims, and here, too, it is only the activity belonging to se
lf-consciousness which is present. Therefore that admission is unfruitful too, b
ecause it does not get beyond the abstract-universal, that is to say, it stops s
hort at the thought that all is a work of God, and with regard to objects which
are absolutely different (as, for example, the course of the stars and their law
s, ants, or men), that relation continues for it fixed at one and the same point
, namely this, that God has made all. Since this religious relation of particula
r objects is always expressed in the same monotonous manner, it would become ted
ious and burdensome if it were repeated in reference to each individual thing. T
herefore the matter is settled with the one admission, that God has made everyth
ing, and this religious side is thereby satisfied once for all, and then in the
progress of knowledge and the pursuit of aims nothing further is thought of the
matter. It would accordingly appear that this admission is made simply and solel
y in order to get rid of the whole business, or perhaps it may be to get protect
ion for the religious side as it were relatively to what is without. In short, s
uch expressions may be used either in earnest or not.
Piety does not weary of lifting up its eyes to God on all and every occasion, al
though it may do so daily and hourly in the same manner. But as religious feelin
g, it really rests in singleness or single instances ; it is in every moment who
lly what it is, and is without reflection and the consciousness which compares e
xperiences. It is here, on the contrary, where knowledge and self-determination
are concerned, that this comparison, and the consciousness of that sameness, are
essentially present, and then a general proposition is enunciated once for all.
On the one side we have understanding playing its part, while over against it i
s the religious feeling of dependence.
b. Even piety is not exempt from the fate of falling into a state of division or
dualism. On the contrary, division is already present in it implicitly, in that
its actual content is only a manifold, accidental one. These two attitudes, nam
ely, that of piety and of the understanding that compares, however different the
y seem to be, have this in common, that in them the relation of God to the other
side of consciousness is undetermined and general. The second of these attitude
s has indicated and pronounced this unhesitatingly in the expression already quo
ted, " God has created all things."
(a.) The manner of looking at things, however, which is followed by the religiou
s man, and whereby he gives a greater completeness to his reflection, consists i
n the contemplation of the constitution and arrangement of things according to t
he relations of ends, and similarly in the regarding all the circumstances of in
dividual life, as well as the great events of history, as proceeding from Divine
purposes, or else as directed and leading back to such. The universal divine re
lation is thus not adhered to here. On the contrary, this becomes a definite rel
ation, and consequently a more strictly defined content is introduced for the ma
nifold materials are placed in relation to one another, and God is then consider
ed as the one who brings about these relations. Animals and their surroundings a
re accordingly regarded as beings definitely regulated, in that they have food,
nurture their young, are provided with weapons as a defence against what is hurt
ful, stand the winter, and can protect themselves against enemies. In human life
it is seen how man is led to happiness, whether it be eternal or temporal, by m
eans of this or that apparent accident, or perhaps misfortune. In short, the act
ion, the will of God, is contemplated here in definite dealings, conditions of n
ature, occurrences, and such-like.
But this content itself, these ends, representing thus a finite content, are acc
idental, are taken up only for the moment, and even directly disappear in an inc
onsistent and illogical fashion. If, for example, we admire the wisdom of God in
nature because we see how animals are provided with weapons, partly to obtain t
heir food and partly to protect them against enemies, yet it is presently seen i
n experience that these weapons are of no avail, and that those creatures which
have been considered as ends are made use of by others as means.
It is therefore really progressive knowledge which has depreciated and supplante
d this external contemplation of ends ; that higher knowledge, namely, which, to
begin with, at least demands consistency, and recognises ends of this kind, whi
ch are taken as Divine ends, as subordinate and finite as something which proves
itself in the very same experience and observation to be worthless, and not to
be an object of the eternal, divine Will.
If that manner of looking at the matter be accepted, and if, at the same time, i
ts inconsistency be disregarded, yet it still remains indefinite and superficial
, for the very reason that all and every content no matter what it be may be inc
luded in it ; for there is nothing, no arrangement of nature, no occurrence, whi
ch, regarded in some aspect or other, might not be shown to have some use. Relig
ious feeling is, in short, here no longer present in its naive and experimental
character. On the contrary, it proceeds from the universal thought of an end, of
a good, and makes inferences, inasmuch as it subsumes present things under thes
e universal thoughts. But this argumentation, this inferential process, brings t
he religious man into a condition of perplexity, because however much he may poi
nt to what serves a purpose, and is useful in this immediate world of natural th
ings, he sees, in contrast to all this, just as much that does not serve a purpo
se, and is injurious. What is profitable to one person is detrimental to another
, and therefore does not serve a purpose. The preservation of life and of the in
terests bound up with existence, which in the one case is promoted, is in the ot
her case just as much endangered and put a stop to. Thus an implicit dualism or
division is involved here, for in contradiction to God's eternal manner of opera
tion, finite things are elevated to the rank of essential ends. The idea of God
and of His manner of operation as universal and necessary is contradicted by thi
s inconsistency, which is even destructive of that universal character.
Now, if the religious man considers external ends and the externality of the who
le matter in accordance with which these things are profitable for an Other, the
natural determinateness, which is the point of departure, appears indeed to be
only for an Other. But this, more closely considered, is its own relation, its o
wn nature, the immanent nature of what is related, its necessity, in short. Thus
it is that the actual transition to the other side, which was formerly designat
ed as the moment of selfness, comes about for ordinary religious thought.
(/.) Religious feeling, accordingly, is forced to abandon its argumentative proc
ess ; and now that a beginning has once been made with thought, and with the rel
ations of thought, it becomes necessary, above all things to thought, to demand
and to look for that which belongs to itself ; namely, first of all consistency
and necessity, and to place itself in opposition to that standpoint of contingen
cy. And with this, the principle of selfness at once develops itself completely.
" I," as simple, universal, as thought, am really relation ; since I am for mys
elf, am self-consciousness, the relations too are to be for me. To the thoughts,
ideas which I make my own, I give the character which I myself am. I am this si
mple point, and that which is for me I seek to apprehend in this unity. Knowledg
e so far aims at that which is, and the necessity of it, and apprehends this in
the relation of cause and effect, reason and result, power and manifestation ; i
n the relation of the Universal, of the species and of the individual existing t
hings which are included in the sphere of contingency. Knowledge, science, in th
is manner places the manifold material in mutual relation, takes away from it th
e contingency which it has through its immediacy, and while contemplating the re
lations which belong to the wealth of finite phenomena, encloses the world of fi
uiteness in itself so as to form a system of the universe, of such a kind that k
nowledge requires nothing for this system outside of the system itself. For what
a thing is, what it is in its essential determinate character, is disclosed whe
n it is perceived and made the subject of observation. From the constitution of
things, we proceed to their connections in which they stand in relation to an Ot
her ; not, however, in an accidental, but in a determinate relation, and in whic
h they point back to the origiual source from which they are a deduction. Thus w
e inquire after the reasons and causes of things ; and the meaning of inquiry he
re is, that what is desired is to know the special causes. Thus it is no longer
sufficient to speak of God as the cause of the lightning, or of the downfall of
the Eepublican system of government in Rome, or of the feench Eevolution ; here
it is perceived that this cause is only an entirely general one, and does not yi
eld the desired explanation. What we wish to know regarding a natural phenomenon
, or regarding this or that law as effect or result, is, the reason as the reaso
n of this particular phenomenon, that is to say, not the reason which applies to
all things, but only and exclusively to this definite thing. And thus the reaso
n must be that of such special phenomena, and such reason or ground must be the
most immediate, must be sought and laid hold of in the finite, and must itself b
e a finite one. Therefore this knowledge does not go above or beyond the sphere
of the finite, nor does it desire to do so, since it is able to apprehend all in
its finite sphere, is conversant with everything, and knows its course of actio
n. In this manner science forms a universe of knowledge, to which God is not nec
essary, which lies outside of religion, and has absolutely nothing to do with it
. In this kingdom, knowledge spreads itself out in its relations and connections
, and in so doing has all determinate material and content on its side ; and for
the other side, the side of the infinite and the eternal, nothing whatever is l
eft.
(.) Thus both sides have developed themselves completely in their opposition. On
the side of religion the heart is filled with what is Divine, but without freed
om, or self-consciousness, and without consistency in regard to what is determin
ate, this latter having, on the contrary, the form of contingency. Consistent co
nnection of what is determinate belongs to the side of knowledge, which is at ho
me in the finite, and moves freely in the thoughtdeterminations of the manifold
connections of things, but can only create a system which is without absolute su
bstantiality without God. The religious side gets the absolute material and purp
ose, but only as something abstractly positive. Knowledge has taken possession o
f all finite material and drawn it into its territory, all determinate content h
as fallen to its share ; but although it gives it a necessary connection, it is
still unable to give it the absolute connection. Since finally science has taken
possession of knowledge, and is the consciousness of the necessity of the finit
e, religion has become devoid of knowledge, and has shrivelled up into simple fe
eling, into the contentless or empty elevation of the spiritual to the Eternal.
It can, however, affirm nothing regarding the Eternal, for all that could be reg
arded as knowledge would be a drawing down of the Eternal into the sphere of the
finite, and of finite connections of things. Now when two aspects of thought, w
hich are so developed in this way, enter into relation with one another, their a
ttitude is one of mutual distrust. Religious feeling distrusts the finiteness wh
ich lies in knowledge, and it brings against science the charge of futility, bec
ause in it the subject clings to itself, is in itself, and the " I " as the know
ing subject is independent in relation to all that is external. On the other han
d, knowledge has a distrust of the totality in which feeling entrenches itself,
and in which it confounds together all extension and development. It is afraid t
o lose its freedom should it comply with the demand of feeling, and unconditiona
lly recognise a truth which it does not definitely understand. And when religiou
s feeling comes out of its universality, sets ends before itself, and passes ove
r to the determinate, knowledge can see nothing but arbitrariness in this, and i
f it were to pass in a similar way to anything definite, would feel itself given
over to mere contingency. When, accordingly, reflection is fully developed, and
has to pass over into the domain of religion, it is unable to hold out in that
region, and becomes impatient with regard to all that peculiarly belongs to it.
c. Now that the opposition has arrived at this stage of development, where the o
ne side, whenever it is approached by the other, invariably thrusts it away from
it as an enemy, the necessity for an adjustment comes in, of such a kind that t
he infinite shall appear in the finite, and the finite in the infinite, and each
no longer form a separate realm. This would be the reconciliation of religious,
genuine simple feeling, with knowledge and intelligence. This reconciliation mu
st correspond with the highest demands of knowledge, and of the Notion, for thes
e can surrender nothing of their dignity. But. just as little can anything of th
e absolute content be given up, and that content be brought down into the region
of finiteness ; and when face to face with it knowledge must give up its finite
form. In the Christian religion, more than in other religions, the need of this
reconciliation has of necessity come into prominence, for the following reasons
:
(a.) The Christian religion has its very beginning in absolute dualism or divisi
on, and starts from that sense of suffering in which it rends the natural unity
of the spirit asunder, and destroys natural peace. In it man appears as evil fro
m his birth, and is thus in his innermost life in contradiction with himself, an
d the spirit, as it is driven back into itself, finds itself separated from the
infinite, absolute Essence.
The Reconciliation, the need of which is here intensified to the uttermost degre
e, appears in the first place for Faith, but not in such a way as to allow of fa
ith being of a merely ingenuous kind. For the spirit has left its natural simpli
city behind, and entered upon an internal conflict ; it is, as sinful, an Other
in opposition to the truth ; it is withdrawn, estranged from it. " I," in this c
ondition of schism, am not the truth, and this is therefore given as an independ
ent content of ordinary thought, and the truth is in the first instance put forw
ard upon authority.
(y.) When, however, by this means I am transplanted into an intellectual world i
n which the nature of God, the characteristics and modes of action which belong
to God, are presented to knowledge, and when the truth of these rests on the wit
ness and assurance of others, yet I am at the same time referred into myself, fo
r thought, knowledge, reason are in me, and in the feeling of sinfulness, and in
reflection upon this, my freedom is plainly revealed to me. Rational knowledge,
therefore, is an essential element in the Christian religion itself. In the Chr
istian religion I am to retain my freedom or rather, in it I am to become free.
In it the subject, the salvation of the soul, the redemption of the individual a
s an individual, and not only the species, is an essential end. This subjectivit
y, this selfncss (not selfishness) is just the principle of rational knowledge i
tself.
Rational knowledge being thus a fundamental characteristic in the Christian reli
gion, the latter gives development to its content, for the ideas regarding its g
eneral subject-matter are implicitly or in themselves thoughts, and must as such
develop themselves. On the other hand, however, since the content is something
which exists essentially for the mind as forming ideas, it is distinct from unre
flecting opinion and sense-knowledge, and as it were passes right beyond the dis
tinction. In short, it has in relation to subjectivity the value of an absolute
content existing in and for itself. The Christian religion therefore touches the
antithesis between feeling and immediate perception on the one hand, and reflec
tion and knowledge on the other. It contains rational knowledge as an essential
element, and has supplied to this rational knowledge the occasion for developing
itself to its full logical issue as Form and as a world of form, and has thus a
t the same time enabled it to place itself in opposition to this content as it a
ppears in the shape of given truth. It is from this that the discord which chara
cterises the thought of the present day arises.
Hitherto we have considered the progressive growth of the antitheses only in the
form in which they have not yet developed into actual philosophy, or in which t
hey still stand outside of it. Therefore the questions which primarily come befo
re us are these : i . How does philosophy in general stand related to religion ?
. How does the Philosophy of Religion stand related to philosophy? and . What i
s the relation of the philosophical study of religion to positive religion ?

II. THE POSITION OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION RELATIVELY TO PHILOSOPHY AND TO

RELIGION.

I . The Attitude of Philosophy to Religion generally.

In saying above that philosophy makes religion the subject of consideration, and
when further this consideralion of it appears to be in the position of somethin
g which is different from its object, it would seem as if we are still occupying
that attitude in which both sides remain mutually independent and separate. In
taking up such an attitude in thus considering the subject, we should accordingl
y come out of that region of devotion and enjoyment which religion is, and the o
bject and the consideration of it as the movement of thought would be as differe
nt as, for example, the geometrical figures in mathematics are from the mind whi
ch considers them. Such is only the relation, however, as it at first appears, w
hen knowledge is still severed from the religious side, and is finite knowledge.
On the contrary, when we look more closely, it becomes apparent that as a matte
r of fact the content, the need, and the interest of philosophy represent someth
ing which it has in common with religion. , The object of religion as well as of
philosophy is eternal truth in its objectivity, God and nothing but God, and th
e explication of God. Philosophy is not a wisdom of the world, but is knowledge
of what is not of the world ; it is not knowledge which concerns external mass,
or empirical existence and life, but is knowledge of that which is eternal, of w
hat God is, and what flows out of His nature. For this His nature must reveal an
d develop itself. Philosophy, therefore, only unfolds itself when it unfolds rel
igion, and in unfolding itself it unfolds religion. As thus occupied with eterna
l truth which exists on its own account, or is in and for itself, and, as in fac
t, a dealing on the part of the thinking spirit, and not of individual caprice a
nd particular interest, with this object, it is the same kind of activity as rel
igion is. The mind in so far as it thinks philosophically immerses itself with l
ike living interest in this object, and renounces its particularity in that it p
ermeates its object, in the same way, as religious consciousness does, for the l
atter also does not seek to have anything of its own, but desires only to immers
e itself in this content. Thus religion and philosophy come to be one. Philosoph
y is itself, in fact, worship ; it is religion, for in the same way it renounces
subjective notions and opinions in order to occupy itself with God. Philosophy
is thus identical with religion, but the distinction is that it is so in a pecul
iar manner, distinct from the manner of looking at things which is commonly call
ed religion as such. What they have in common is, that they are religion ; what
distinguishes them from each other is merely the kind and manner of religion we
find in each. It is in the peculiar way in which they both occupy themselves wit
h God that the distinction comes out. It is just here, however, that the difficu
lties lie which appear so great, that it is even regarded as an impossibility th
at philosophy should be one with religion. Hence comes the suspicion with which
philosophy is looked upon by theology, and the antagonistic attitude of religion
and philosophy. In accordance with this antagonistic attitude (as theology cons
iders it to be) philosophy seems to act injuriously, destructively, upon religio
n, robbing it of its sacred character, and the way in which it occupies itself w
ith God seems to be absolutely different from religion. Here, then, is the same
old opposition and contradiction which had already made its appearance among the
Greeks. Among that free democratic people, the Athenians, philosophical writing
s were burnt, and Socrates was condemned to death ; now, however, this oppositio
n is held to be an acknowledged fact, more so than that unity of religion and ph
ilosophy just asserted.
Old though this opposition is, however, the combination of philosophy and religi
on is just as old. Already to the neo-Pythagoreans and neo-Platonists, who were
as yet within the heathen world, the gods of the people .were not gods of imagin
ation, but had become gods of thought. That combination had a place, too, among
the most eminent of the Fathers of the Church, who in their religious life took
up an essentially intellectual attitude inasmuch as they set out from the presup
position that theology is religion together with conscious thought and comprehen
sion. It is to their philosophical culture that the Christian Church is indebted
for the first beginnings of a content of Christian doctrine.
This union of religion and philosophy was carried out to a still greater extent
in the Middle Ages. So little was it believed that the knowledge which seeks to
comprehend is hurtful to faith, that it was even held to be essential to the fur
ther development of faith itself. It was by setting out from philosophy that tho
se great men, Ansel in and Abelard, further developed the essential characterist
ics of faith.
Knowledge in constructing its world for itself, without reference to religion, h
ad only taken possession of the finite contents ; but since it has developed int
o the true philosophy, it has the same content as religion. If we now look provi
sionally for the distinction between religion and philosophy as it presents itse
lf in this unity of content, we find it takes the following form : a. A speculat
ive philosophy is the consciousness of the Idea, so that everything is apprehend
ed as Idea ; the Idea, however, is the True in thought, and not in mere sensuous
contemplation or in ordinary conception. The True in thought, to put it more pr
ecisely, means that it is something concrete, posited as divided in itself, and
in such away, indeed, that the two sides of what is divided are opposed characte
ristics of thought, and the Idea must be conceived of as the unity of these. To
think speculatively means to resolve anything real into its parts, and to oppose
these to each other in sucli a way that the distinctions are set in opposition
in accordance with the characteristics of thought, and the object is apprehended
as unity of the two.
In sense-perception or picture-thought we have the object before us as a whole,
our reflection distinguishes, apprehends different sides, recognises the diversi
ty in them, and severs them. In this act of distinguishing, reflection does not
keep firm hold of their unity. Sometimes it forgets the wholeness, sometimes the
distinctions ; and if it has both before it, it yet separates the properties fr
om the object, and so places both that that in which the two are one becomes a t
hird, which is different from the object and its properties. In the case of mech
anical objects which appear in the region of externality, this relation may have
a place, for the object is only the lifeless substratum for the distinctions, a
nd the quality of oneness is the gathering together of external aggregates. In t
he true object, however, which is not merely an aggregate, an externally united
multiplicity, the object is one, although it has characteristics which are disti
nguished from it, and it is speculative thought which first gets a grasp of the
unity in this very antithesis as such. It is in fact the business of speculative
thought to apprehend all objects of pure thought, of nature and of Spirit, in t
he form of thought, and thus as the unity of the difference. b. Religion, then,
is itself the standpoint of the consciousness of the True, which is in and for i
tself, and is consequently the stage of Spirit at which the speculative content
generally, is object for consciousness. Religion is not consciousness of this or
that truth in individual objects, but of the absolute truth, of truth as the Un
iversal, the All-comprehending, outside of which there lies nothing at all. The
content of its consciousness is further the Universally True, which exists on it
s own account or in and for itself, which determines itself, and is not determin
ed from without. While the finite required an Other for its determinateness, the
True has its determinateness, the limit, its end in itself ; it is not limited
through an Other, but the Other is found in itself. It is this speculative eleme
nt which comes to consciousness in religion. Truth is, indeed, contained in ever
y other sphere, but not the highest absolute truth, for this exists only in perf
ect universality of characterisation or determination, and in the fact of being
determined in and for itself, which is not simple determinateness having referen
ce to an Other, but contains the Other, the difference in its very self.
c. Religion is accordingly this speculative element in the form, as it were, of
a state of consciousness, of which the aspects are not simple qualities of thoug
ht, but are concretely filled up. These moments can be no other than the moment
of Thought, active universality, thought in operation, and reality as immediate,
particular selfconsciousness.
Now, while in philosophy the rigidity of these two sides loses itself through re
conciliation in thought, because both sides are thoughts, and the one is not pur
e universal thought, and the other of an empirical and individual character, rel
igion only arrives at the enjoyment of unity by lifting these two rigid extremes
out of this state of severance, by rearranging them, and bringing them together
again. But by thus stripping off the form of dualism from its extremes, renderi
ng the opposition in the element of Universality fluid, and bringing it to recon
ciliation, religion remains always akin to thought, even in its form and movemen
t ; and philosophy, as simply active thought, and thought which unites opposed e
lements, has approached closely to religion.
The contemplation of religion in thought has thus raised the determinate moments
of religion to the rank of thoughts, and the question is how this contemplation
of religion in thought is related generally to philosophy as forming an organic
part in its system.
The Relation of the Philosophy of Religion to the System of Philosophy.
a. In philosophy, the Highest is called the Absolute, the Idea ; it is superfluo
us to go further back here, and to mention that this Highest was in the Wolfian
Philosophy called ens, Thing ; for that at once proclaims itself an abstraction,
which corresponds very inadequately to our idea of God. In the more recent phil
osophy, the Absolute is not so complete an abstraction, but yet it has not on th
at account the same signification as is implied in the term, God. In order even
to make the difference apparent, we must in the first place consider what the wo
rd signify itself signifies. When we ask, " What does this or that signify ? " w
e are asking about two kinds of things, and, in fact, about things which are opp
osed. In the first place, we call what we are thinking of, the meaning, the end
or intention, the general thought of this or that expression, work of art, &c. ;
if we ask about its intrinsic character, it is essentially the thought that is
in it of which we wish to have an idea. When we thus ask " What is God ? " " Wha
t does the expression God signify ? " it is the thought involved in it that we d
esire to know ; the idea we possess already. Accordingly, what is signified here
is that we have got to specify the Notion, and thus it follows that the Notion
is the signification ; it is the Absolute, the nature of God as grasped by thoug
ht, the logical knowledge of this, to which we desire to attain. This, then, is
the one signification of signification, and so far, that which we call the Absol
ute has a meaning identical with the expression God. b. But we put the question
again, in a second sense, according to which it is the opposite of this which is
sought after. When we begin to occupy ourselves with pure thought-determination
s, and not with outward ideas, it may be that the mind does not feel satisfied,
is not at home, in these, and asks what this pure thought-determination signifie
s. For example, every one can understand for himself what is meant by the terms
unity, objective, subjective, &c., and yet it may very well happen that the spec
ific form of thought we call the unity of subjective and objective, the unity of
real and ideal, is not understood. What is asked for in such a case is the mean
ing in the very opposite sense from that which was required before. Here it is a
n idea or a pictorial conception of the thought-determination which is demanded,
an example of the content, which has as jet only been given in thought. If we f
ind a thoughtcontent difficult to understand, the difficulty lies in this, that
we possess no pictorial idea of it ; it is by means of an example that it become
s clear to us, and that the mind first feels at home with itself in this content
. When, accordingly, we start with the ordinary conception of God, the Philosoph
y of Religion has to consider its signification this, namely, that God is the Id
ea, the Absolute, the Essential Reality which is grasped in thought and in the N
otion, and this it has in common with logical philosophy ; the logical Idea is G
od as He is in Himself. But it is just the nature of God that He should not be i
mplicit or in Himself only. He is as essentially for Himself, the Absolute Spiri
t, not only the Being who keeps Himself within thought, but who also manifests H
imself, and gives Himself objectivity.
c. Thus, in contemplating the Idea of God, in the Philosophy of Religion, we hav
e at the same time to do with the manner of His manifestation or presentation to
us ; He simply makes Himself apparent, represents Himself to Himself. This is t
he aspect of the determinate being or existence of the Absolute. In the Philosop
hy of Religion we have thus the Absolute as object; not, however, merely in the
form of thought, but also in the form of its manifestation. The universal Idea i
s thus to be conceived of with the purely concrete meaning of essentiality in ge
neral, and is to be regarded from the point of view of its activity in displayin
g itself, in appearing, in revealing itself. Popularly speaking, we say God is t
he Lord of the natural world and of the realm of Spirit. He is the absolute harm
ony of the two, and it is He who produces and carries on this harmony. Here neit
her thought and Notion nor their manifestation determinate being or existence ar
e wanting. This aspect, thus represented by determinate being, is itself, howeve
r, to be grasped again in thought, since we are here in the region of philosophy
.
Philosophy to begin with contemplates the Absolute as logical Idea, the Idea as
it is in thought, under the aspect in which its content is constituted by the sp
ecific forms of thought. Further, philosophy exhibits the Absolute in its activi
ty, in its creations. This is the manner in which the Absolute becomes actual or
" for itself," becomes Spirit, and God is thus the result of philosophy. It bec
omes apparent, however, that this is not merely a result, but is something which
eternally creates itself, and is that which precedes all else. The onesidedness
of the result is abrogated and absorbed in the very result itself.
Nature, finite Spirit, the world of consciousness, of intelligence, and of will,
are embodiments of the divine Idea, but they are definite shapes, special modes
of the appearance of the Idea, forms, in which the Idea has not yet penetrated
to itself, so as to be absolute Spirit.
In the Philosophy of Religion, however, we do not contemplate the implicitly exi
sting logical Idea merely, in its determinate character as pure thought, nor in
those finite determinations where its mode of appearance is a finite one, but as
it is in itself or implicitly in thought, and at the same time as it appears, m
anifests itself, and thus in infinite manifestation as Spirit, which reflects it
self in itself; for Spirit which does not appear, is not. In this characteristic
of appearance finite appearance is also included that is, the world of nature,
and the world of finite spirit, but Spirit is regarded as the power or force of
these worlds, as producing them out of itself, and out of them producing itself.

This, then, is the position of the Philosophy of Religion in relation to the oth
er parts of philosophy. Of the other parts, God is the result ; here, this End i
s made the Beginning, and becomes our special Object, as the simply concrete Ide
a, with its infinite manifestations ; and this characteristic concerns the conte
nt of the Philosophy of Religion. We look at this content, however, from the poi
nt of view of rational thought, and this concerns the form, and brings us to con
sider the position of the Philosophy of Religion with regard to religion as this
latter appears in the shape of positive religion.

. The Relation of the Philosophy of Religion to Positive Religion.

It is well known that the faith of the Church, more especially of the Protestant
Church, has taken a fixed form as a system of doctrine. This content has been u
niversally accepted as truth; and as the description of what God is, and of what
man is in relation to God, it has been called the Creed, that is, in the subjec
tive sense that which is believed, and objectively, what is to be known as conte
nt, in the Christian Church, and what God has revealed Himself to be. Now as uni
versal established doctrine this content is partly laid down in the Apostolic Sy
mbolum or Apostles' Creed, partly in later symbolical books. And moreover, in th
e Protestant Church the Bible has always been characterised as the essential fou
ndation of doctrine.
a. Accordingly, in the apprehension and determination of the content of doctrine
, the influence of reason, as " argumentation " has made itself felt. At first i
ndeed, this was so much the case that the doctrinal content, and the Bible as it
s positive foundation, were to remain unquestioned, and thought was only to take
 up the thoughts of the Bible as Exegesis. But as a matter of fact understanding
had previously established its opinions and its thoughts for itself, and then a
ttention was directed towards observing how the words of Scripture could be expl
ained in accordance with these. The words of the Bible are a statement of truth
which is not systematic; they are Christianity as it appeared in the beginning ;
it is Spirit which grasps the content, which unfolds its meaning. This exegesis
having thus taken counsel with reason, the result has been that a so-called The
ology of Eeason l has now come into existence, which is put in opposition to tha
t doctrinal system of the Church, partly by this theology itself, and partly by
that doctrinal system to which it is opposed. At the same time, exegesis takes p
ossession of the written word, interprets it, and pretends only to lay stress on
the understanding of the word, and to desire to remain faithful to it.
But whether it be chiefly to save appearances, or whether it is really and in do
wnright earnest that the Bible is made the foundation, it is inherent in the ver
y nature of any explanation which interprets, that thought should have its part
in it. Thought explicitly contains categories, principles, premises, which must
make their influence felt in the work of interpretation. If interpretation be no
t mere explanation of words but explanation of the sense, the thoughts of the in
terpreter must necessarily be put into the words which constitute the foundation
. Mere word interpretation can only amount to this, that for one word another co
-extensive in meaning is substituted ; but in the course of explanation further
categories of thought are combined with it. For a development is advance to furt
her thoughts. In appearance the sense is adhered to, but in reality further thou
ghts are developed. Commentaries on the Bible do not so much make us acquainted
with the content of the Scriptures, as rather with the manner in which things we
re conceived in the age in which they were written. It is, indeed, the sense con
tained in the words which is supposed to be given. The giving of the sense means
, however, the bringing forward of the sense into consciousness, into the region
of ideas ; and these ideas, which get determinate character elsewhere, then ass
ert their influence in the exposition of the sense supposed to be contained in t
he words. It is the case even in the presentation of a philosophical system whic
h is already fully developed, as, for example, that of Plato or of Aristotle, th
at the presentation takes a different form, according to the definite kind of id
ea which those who undertake thus to expound it have already formed themselves.
Accordingly, the most contradictory meanings have been exegetically demonstrated
by means of Theology out of the Scriptures, and thus the so-called Holy Scriptu
res have been made into a nose of wax. All heresies have, in common with the Chu
rch, appealed to the Scriptures.
. The Theology of Reason, which thus came into existence, did not, however, limi
t itself to being merely an exegesis which kept to the Bible as its foundation,
but in its character as free, rational knowledge assumed a certain relation to r
eligion and its content generally. In this more general relation the dealing wit
h the subject and the result can amount to nothing more than to the taking posse
ssion by such knowledge of all that, in religion, has a determinate character. F
or the doctrine concerning God goes on to that of the characteristics, the attri
butes, and the actions of God. Such knowledge takes possession of this determina
te content, and would make it appear that it belongs to it. It, on the one hand,
conceives of the Infinite in its own finite fashion, as something which has a d
eterminate character, as an abstract infinite, and then on the other hand finds
that all special attributes are inadequate to this Infinite. By such a mode of p
roceeding the religious content is annihilated, and the absolute object reduced
to complete poverty. The finite and determinate which this knowledge has drawn i
nto its territory, points indeed to a Beyond as existing for it, but even this B
eyond is conceived of by it in a finite manner, as an abstract, supreme Being, p
ossessing no character at all. " Enlightenment " which is that consummation of f
inite knowledge just described intends to place God very high when it speaks of
Him as the Infinite, with regard to which all predicates are inadequate, and are
unwarranted anthropomorphisms. In reality, however, it has, in conceiving God a
s the supreme Being, made Him hollow, empty, and poor.
c. If it should now seem as if the Philosophy of Religion rested on the same bas
is as this Theology of Reason, or Theology of Enlightenment, and was consequentl
y in the same condition of opposition to the content of religion, further reflec
tion shows that this is merely an appearance of resemblance which vanishes direc
tly it is examined into.
a. For God was conceived by that rationalistic way of looking at religion, which
was only the abstract metaphysic of the understanding, as an abstraction which
is empty ideality, and as against which the finite stands in an external fashion
, and thus too from this point of view morals constituted, as a special science,
the knowledge of that which was held to belong to the actual subject as regards
general actions and conduct. The fact of the relation of man to God, which repr
esents the one side, occupied a separate and independent position. Thinking reas
on, on the contrary, which is no longer abstract, but which sets out from the fa
ith of man in the dignity of his spirit, and is actuated by the courage of truth
and freedom, grasps the truth as something concrete, as fulness of content, as
Ideality, in which determinateness the finite is contained as a moment. Therefor
e, to thinking reason, God is not emptiness, but Spirit ; and this characteristi
c of Spirit does not remain for it a word only, or a superficial characteristic
; on the contrary, the nature of Spirit unfolds itself for rational thought, ina
smuch as it apprehends God as essentially the Triune God. Thus God is conceived
of as making Himself an object to Himself, and further, the object remains in th
is distinction in identity with God ; in it God loves Himself. Without this char
acteristic of Trinity, God would not be Spirit, and Spirit would be an empty wor
d. But if God be conceived as Spirit, then this conception includes the subjecti
ve side in itself or even develops itself so as to reach to that side, and the P
hilosophy of Religion, as the contemplation of religion by thought, binds togeth
er again the determinate content of religion in its entirety.
b. With regard, however, to that form of contemplation in thought, which adheres
to the words of Holy Scripture, and asserts that it explains them by the aid of
reason, it is only in appearance that the Philosophy of Religion stands on the
same basis witli it. For that kind of contemplation by its own sovereign power l
ays down its argumentations as the foundation of Christian doctrine ; and althou
gh it still leaves the Biblical words standing, yet the particular meaning remai
ns as the principal determination, and to this the assumed Biblical truth must s
ubordinate itself. This argumentation accordingly retains its assumptions, and m
oves within the relations of the Understanding, which belong to Reflection, with
out subjecting these to criticism. But the Philosophy of Religion, as being rati
onal knowledge, is opposed to the arbitrariness of this argumentative process, a
nd is the Eeason of the Universal, which presses forward to unity.
Philosophy is therefore very far removed from being on the common highway on whi
ch this Theology of Eeason and this exegetical argumentative process move, the t
ruth rather being that it is these tendencies chiefly which combat it, and seek
to bring it under suspicion. They protest against philosophy, but only in order
to reserve to themselves the arbitrariness of their argumentative process. Philo
sophy is called something special and particular, although it is nothing else th
an rational, truly universal thought. Philosophy is regarded as a something ghos
tly, of which we know nothing, and about which there is something uncanny ; but
this idea only shows that these rationalistic theologians find it more convenien
t to keep to their unregulated arbitrary reflections, to which philosophy attach
es no validity. If, then, those theologians, who busy themselves with their argu
mentations in exegesis, and appeal to the Bible in connection with all their not
ions, when they deny as against philosophy the possibility of knowledge, have br
ought matters to such a pass, and have so greatly depreciated the reputation of
the Bible, that if the trutli were as they say, and if according to the true exp
lanation of the Bible, no knowledge of the nature of God were possible, the spir
it would be compelled to look for another source in order to acquire such truth
as should be substantial or full of content.
(y.) The Philosophy of Religion cannot, therefore, in the fashion of that metaph
ysic of the Understanding, and exegesis of inferences, put itself in opposition
to positive religion, and to such doctrine of the Church as has still preserved
its content. On the contrary, it will become apparent that it stands infinitely
nearer to positive doctrine than it seems at first sight to do. Indeed, the re-e
stablishment of the doctrines of the Church, reduced to a minimum by the Underst
anding, is so truly the work of philosophy, that it is decried by that so-called
Theology of Reason, which is merely a Theology of the Understanding, as a darke
ning of the mind, and this just because of the true content pos* sessed by it. T
he fears of the Understanding, and its hatred of philosophy, arise from a feelin
g of apprehension, based on the fact that it perceives how philosophy carries ba
ck its reflecting process to its foundation, that is, to the affirmative in whic
h it perishes, and yet that philosophy arrives at a content, and at a knowledge
of the nature of God, after all content seemed to be already done away with. Eve
ry content appears to this negative tendency to be a darkening of the mind, its
only desire beingto continue in that nocturnal darkness which it calls enlighten
ment, and hence the rays of the light of knowledge must be necessarily regarded
by it as hostile.
It is sufficient here merely to observe regarding the supposed opposition of the
Philosophy of Religion and positive religion, that there cannot be two kinds of
reason and two kinds of Spirit; there cannot be a Divine reason and a human, th
ere cannot be a Divine Spirit and a human, which are absolutely different. Human
reason the consciousness of one's being is indeed reason ; it is the divine in
man, and Spirit, in so far as it is the Spirit of God, is not a spirit beyond th
e stars, beyond the world. On the contrary, God is present, omnipresent, and exi
sts as Spirit in all spirits. God is a living God, who is acting and working. Re
ligion is a product of the Divine Spirit; it is not a discovery of man, but a wo
rk of divine operation and creation in him. The expression that God as reason ru
les the world, would be irrational if we did not assume that it has reference al
so to religion, and that the Divine Spirit works in the special character and fo
rm assumed by religion. But the development of reason as perfected in thought do
es not stand in opposition to this Spirit, and consequently it cannot be absolut
ely different from the work which the Divine Spirit has produced in religion. Th
e more a man in thinking rationally lets the true thing or fact * itself hold sw
ay with him, renounces his particularity, acts as universal consciousness, while
his reason does not seek its own in the sense of something special, the Jess wi
ll he, as the embodiment of this reason, get into that condition of opposition ;
for it, namely, reason, is itself the essential fact or thing, the spirit, the
Divine Spirit. The Church or the theologians may disdain this aid, or may take i
t amiss when their doctrine is made reasonable ; they may even repel the exertio
ns of philosophy with proud irony, though these are not directed in a hostile sp
irit against religion, but, on the contrary, seek to fathom its truth ; and they
may ridicule the " manufactured " truth but this scorn is no longer of any avai
l, and is, in fact, idle when once the need of true rational knowledge, and the
sense of discord between it and religion, have been awakened. The intelligence h
as here its rights, which can in no way be longer denied to it, and the triumph
of knowledge is the reconciliation of the opposition.
Although then, philosophy, as the Philosophy of Beligion, is so very different f
rom those tendencies of the understanding, which are at bottom hostile to religi
on, and is in no way such a spectral thing as it has usually been represented to
be, yet even at the present day we still see the belief in the absolute opposit
ion between philosophy and religion made one of the shibboleths of the time. All
those principles of the religious consciousness which have been developed at th
e present time, however widely distinguished their forms may be from one another
, yet agree in this, that they are at enmity with philosophy, and endeavour at a
ll hazards to prevent it from occupying itself with religion ; and the work that
now lies before us is to consider philosophy in its relation to these principle
s of the time. From this consideration of the subject we may confidently promise
ourselves success, all the more that it will become apparent how, in presence o
f all that enmity which is shown to philosophy, from however many sides it may c
ome indeed, it comes from almost every side of consciousness in its present form
the time has nevertheless arrived when philosophy can, partly in an unprejudice
d and partly in a favourable and successful manner, occupy itself with religion.
For the opposition takes one or other of those forms of the divided consciousne
ss which we considered above. They occupy partly the standpoint of the metaphysi
c of the Understanding, for which God is emptiness, and content has vanished, pa
rtly the standpoint of feeling, which after the loss of absolute content has wit
hdrawn itself into its empty subjectivity, but is in accord with that metaphysic
in coming to the result that every characterisation is inadequate to the eterna
l content for this indeed is only an abstraction. Or we may even see that the as
sertions of the opponents of philosophy contain nothing else than what philosoph
y itself contains as its principle, and as the foundation of its principle. This
contradiction, namely, that the opponents of philosophy are the opponents of re
ligion who have been overcome by it, and that they yet implicitly possess the pr
inciple of philosophical knowledge in their reflections, has its foundation in t
his, that they represent the historical element out of which philosophical thoug
ht in its complete shape has been formed.

III. THE RELATION OP THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION TO THE CURRENT PRINCIPLES OF THE
RELIGIOUS CONSCIOUSNESS.

If at the present day philosophy be an object of enmity because it occupies itse

lf with religion, this cannot really surprise us when we consider the general ch
aracter of the time. Every one who attempts to take to do with the knowledge of
God, and by the aid of thought to comprehend His nature, must be prepared to fin
d, that either no attention will be paid to him, or that people will turn agains
t him and combine to oppose him.
The more the knowledge of finite things has increased and the increase is so gre
at that the extension of the sciences has become almost boundless, and all regio
ns of knowledge are enlarged to an extent which makes a comprehensive view impos
sible so much the more has the sphere of the knowledge of God become contracted.
There was a time when all knowledge was knowledge of God. Our own time, on the
contrary, has the distinction of knowing about all and everything, about an infi
nite number of subjects, but nothing at all of God. Formerly the mind found its
supreme interest in knowing God, and searching into His nature. It had and it fo
und no rest unless in thus occupying itself with God. When it could not satisfy
this need it felt unhappy. The spiritual conflicts to which the knowledge of God
gives rise in the inner life were the highest which the spirit knew and experie
nced in itself, and all other interests and knowledge were lightly esteemed. Our
own time has put this need, with all its toils and conflicts, to silence ; we h
ave done with all this, and got rid of it. What Tacitus said of the ancient Germ
ans, that they were securi adversus deos, we have once more become in regard to
knowledge, securi adversus deum.
It no longer gives our age any concern that it knows nothing of God ; on the con
trary, it is regarded as a mark of the highest intelligence to hold that such kn
owledge is not even possible. What is laid down by the Christian religion as the
supreme, absolute commandment, "Ye shall know God," is regarded as a piece of f
olly. Christ says, " Be ye perfect, as My Father in heaven is perfect." This lof
ty demand is to the wisdom of our time an empty sound. It has made of God an inf
inite phantom, which ' is far from us, and in like manner has made human knowled
ge a futile phantom of finiteness, or a mirror upon which fall only shadows, onl
y phenomena. How, then, are we any longer to respect the commandment, and grasp
its meaning, when it says to us, " Be ye perfect, as your Father in heaven is pe
rfect," since we know nothing of the Perfect One, and since our knowing and will
ing are confined solely and entirely to appearance, and the truth is to be and t
o remain absolutely and exclusively a something beyond the present ? And what, w
e must further ask, what else would it be worth while to comprehend, if God is i
ncomprehensible ?
This standpoint must, judged by its content, be considered as the last stage of
the degradation of man, in which at the same time he is, it is true, all the mor
e arrogant inasmuch as he thinks he has proved to himself that this degradation
is the highest possible state, and is his true destiny. Such a point of view is,
indeed, directly opposed to the lofty nature of the Christian religion, for acc
ording to this we ought to know God, His nature, and His essential Being, and to
esteem this knowledge as something which is the highest of all. (The distinctio
n as to whether this knowledge is brought to us by means of faith, authority, re
velation, or reason, is here of no importance.) But although this is the case, a
nd although this point of view has come to dispense both with the content which
revelation gives of the Divine nature, and with what belongs to reason, yet it h
as not shrunk, after all its abject gropings, in that blind arrogance which is p
roper to it, from turning against philosophy. And yet it is philosophy which is
the liberation of the spirit from that shameful degradation, and which has once
more brought religion out of the stage of intense suffering which it had to expe
rience when occupying the standpoint referred to. Even the theologians, who are
on their own ground in that region of vanity, have ventured to charge philosophy
with its destructive tendency theologians who have no longer anything left of t
hat substantial element which could possibly be destroyed. In order to repel the
se not merely groundless, but> what is more, frivolous and unprincipled objectio
ns, we need only observe cursorily how theologians have, on the contrary, done e
verything in their power to do away with what is definite in religion, in that t
hey have (i) thrust dogmas into the background, or pronounced them to be unimpor
tant; or () consider them only as extraneous definitions given by others, and as
mere phenomena of a past history. When we have reflected in this manner upon th
e aspect presented by the content, and have seen how this last is re-established
by philosophy, and placed in safety from the devastations of theology, we shall
() reflect upon the form of that standpoint, and shall see here how the tendenc
y which, taking its departure from the form, is at enmity with philosophy, is so
ignorant of what it is, that it does not even know that it contains in itself t
he very principle of philosophy.
i. Philosophy and the Prevalent Indifference to Definite Dogmas.
If, then, it be made a reproach to philosophy in its relation to religion that t
he content of the doctrine of revealed positive religion, and more expressly of
the Christian religion, is depreciated by it, and that it subverts and destroys
its dogmas, yet this hindrance is taken out of the way, and by the new theology
itself, in fact. There are very few dogmas of the earlier system of Church confe
ssions left which have any longer the importance formerly attributed to them, an
d in their place no other dogmas have been set up. It is easy to convince onesel
f, by considering what is the real value now attached to ecclesiastical dogmas,
that into the religious world generally there has entered a widespread, almost u
niversal, indifference towards what in earlier times were held to be essential d
octrines of the faith. A few examples will prove this.
Christ still indeed continues to be made the central point of faith, as Mediator
, Reconciler, and Redeemer ; but what was known as the work of redemption has re
ceived a very prosaic and merely psychological signification, so that although t
he edifying words have been retained, the very thing that was essential in the o
ld doctrine of the Church has been expunged. / " Great energy of character, stea
dfast adherence to conviction for the sake of which He regarded not His life " t
hese are the common categories through which Christ is brought down, not indeed
to the plane of ordinary everyday life, but to that of human action in general a
nd moral designs, and into a moral sphere into which even heathens like Socrates
were capable of entering.j^Even though Christ be for many the central point of
faith and devotion in the deeper sense, yet Christian life as a whole restricts
itself to this devotional bent, and the weighty doctrines of the Trinity, of the
resurrection of the body, as also the miracles in the Old and New Testaments, a
re neglected as matters of indifference, and have lost their importance. The div
inity of Christ, dogma, what is peculiar to the Christian religion is set aside,
or else reduced to something of merely general nature. It is not only by " enli
ghtenment " that Christianity has been thus treated, but even by pious theologia
ns themselves. These latter join with the men of enlightenment in saying that th
e Trinity Was brought into Christian doctrine by the Alexandrian school, by the
neo-Platonists. But even if it must be conceded that the fathers of the Church s
tudied Greek philosophy, it is in the first instance a matter of no importance w
hence that doctrine may have come ; the only question is, whether it be essentia
lly, inherently, true ; but that is a point which is not examined into, and yet
that doctrine is the key-note of the Christian religion.
If an opportunity was given to a large number of these theologians to lay their
hand on their heart, and say whether they consider faith in the Trinity to beind
ispensably necessary to salvation, and whether they believe that the absence of
such faith leads to damnation, there can be no doubt what the answer would be.
Even the words eternal happiness and eternal damnation are such as cannot be use
d in good society ; such expressions are regarded as apprjra, as words which one
shrinks from uttering. Even although a man should not wish to deny these doctri
nes, he would, in case of his being directly appealed to, find it very difficult
to express himself in an affirmative way.
In the doctrinal teaching of these theologians, it will be found that dogmas hav
e become very thin and shrunken, although they are talked about a great deal.
If any one were to take a number of religious books, or collections of sermons,
in which the fundamental doctrines of the Christian religion are supposed to be
set forth, and attempt to sift the greater part of those writings conscientiousl
y in order to ascertain whether, in a large proportion of such literature, the f
undamental doctrines of Christianity are to be found contained and stated in the
orthodox sense, without ambiguity or evasion, the answer is again not a doubtfu
l one.
It would appear that the theologians themselves, in accordance with the general
training which most of them have received, only attribute that importance which
they formerly assigned to the principle and doctrines of positive Christianity w
hen these were still regarded as such to these doctrines when they are veiled in
a misty indefiuiteness. Thus if philosophy has always been regarded as the oppo
nent of the doctrines of the Church, it cannot any longer be such, since these d
octrines, which it seemed to threaten with destruction, are no longer regarded b
y general 'Conviction as of importance. A great part of the danger which threate
ns philosophy from this side when she considers these dogmas in order to compreh
end them ought to be thus taken away, and so philosophy can take up a more untra
mmelled attitude with regard to dogmas which have so much sunk in interest with
theologians themselves.
The Historical Treatment of Dogmas.
The strongest indication, however, that the importance of these dogmas has decli
ned, is to be perceived in the fact that they are treated principally in an hist
orical manner, and are regarded in the light of convictions which belong to othe
rs, as matters of history, which do not go on in our own mind as such, and which
do not concern the needs of our spirit. The real interest here is to find out h
ow the matter stands so far as others are concerned, what part others have playe
d, and centres in this accidental origin and appearance of doctrine. The questio
n as to what is a man's own personal conviction only excites astonishment. The a
bsolute manner of the origin of these doctrines out of the depths of Spirit, and
thus the necessity, the truth, which they have for our spirits too, is shoved o
n one side by this historical treatment. It brings much zeal and erudition to be
ar on these doctrines ; it is not with their essential substance, however, that
it is occupied, but with the externalities of the controversies about them, and
with the passions which have gathered around this external mode of the origin of
truth. Thus Theology is by her own act put in a low enough position. If the phi
losophical knowledge of religion is conceived of as something to be reached hist
orically only, then we should have to regard the theologians who have brought it
to this point as clerks in a mercantile house, who have only to keep an account
of the wealth of strangers, who only act for others without obtaining any prope
rty for themselves. They do, indeed, receive salary, but their reward is only to
serve, and to register that which is the property of others. Theology of this k
ind has no longer a place at all in the domain of thought ; it has no longer to
do with infinite thought in and for itself, but only with ifc as a finite fact,
as opinion, ordinary thought, and so on. History occupies itself with truths whi
ch were truths namely, for others, not with such as would come to be the possess
ion of those who are occupied with them. With the true content, with the knowled
ge of God, such theologians have no concern. They know as little of God as a bli
nd man sees of a painting, even though he handles the frame. They only know how
a certain dogma was established by this or that council ; what grounds those pre
sent at such a council had for establishing it, and how this or that opinion cam
e to predominate. And in all this, it is indeed religion that is in question, an
d yet it is not religion itself which here comes under consideration. Much is to
ld us of the history of the painter of the picture, and of the fate of the pictu
re itself, what price it had at different times, into what hands it came, but we
are never permitted to see anything of the picture itself.
It is essential in philosophy and religion, however, that the spirit should itse
lf enter with supreme interest into an inner relation, should not only occupy it
self with a thing that is foreign to it, but should draw its content from that w
hich is essential, and should regard itself as worthy of such knowledge. For her
e it is with the value of his own spirit that man is concerned, and he is not at
liberty humbly to remain outside and to wander about at a distance.
Philosophy and Immediate Knowledge.
In consequence of the emptiness of the standpoint just considered, it might appe
ar as if we only mentioned the reproaches which it casts upon philosophy in orde
r to pronounce expressly against such a point of view, and that our aim, which w
e do not relinquish, is to do the opposite of that which it holds to be the high
est of all aims namely, to know God. Yet this standpoint has an aspect belonging
to its form in which it must really have a rational interest for us, and regard
ed from this side, the recent attitude of theology is more favourable for philos
ophy. For with the thought that all objective deterrninateness has converged in
the inwardness of subjectivity, the conviction is bound up that God gives revela
tion in an immediate way in man ; that religion consists just in this, that man
has immediate knowledge of God. This immediate knowing is called reason, and als
o faith, but in a sense other than that in which the Church takes faith. All kno
wledge, all conviction, all piety, regarded from the point of view which we are
considering, is based on the principle that in the spirit, as such, the consciou
sness of God exists immediately with the consciousness of its self.
a. This statement taken in a direct sense, and as not implying that any polemica
l attitude has been taken up to philosophy, passes for one which needs no proof,
no confirmation. This universal idea, which is now matter of assumption, contai
ns this essential principle namely, that the highest, the religious content show
s itself in the spirit itself, that Spirit manifests itself in Spirit, and in fa
ct in this my spirit, that this faith has its source, its root in my deepest per
sonal being, and that it is what is most peculiarly my own, and as such is insep
arable from the consciousness of pure spirit.
Inasmuch as this knowledge exists immediately in myself, all external authority,
all foreign attestation is cast aside ; what is to be of value to me must have
its verification in my own spirit, and in order that I may believe I must have t
he witness of my spirit. It may indeed come to me from without, but any such ext
ernal origin is a matter of indifference ; if it is to be valid, this validity c
an only build itself up upon the foundation of all truth, in the witness of the
Spirit,
This principle is the simple principle of philosophical knowledge itself, and ph
ilosophy is so far from rejecting it that it constitutes a fundamental character
istic in it itself. Thus it is to be regarded as a gain, a kind of happy circums
tance, that fundamental principles of philosophy live even in general popular co
nceptions, and have become general assumptions, for in this way the philosophica
l principle may expect the more easily to obtain the general consent of the educ
ated. As a result of this general disposition of the spirit of our time, philoso
phy has not only won a position which is externally favourable with what is exte
rnal it is never concerned, and least of all where it, and active interest in it
, takes the form of an institution of the State but is favoured inwardly, since
its principle already lives in the minds and in the hearts of men as an assumpti
on. For philosophy has this in common with the form of culture referred to, that
reason is regarded as that part of the spirit in which God reveals himself to m
an.
). But the principle of immediate knowledge does not rest satisfied with this si
mple determinateness, this natural and ingenuous content ; it does not only expr
ess itself affirmatively, but takes up a directly polemical attitude to philosop
hical knowledge, and directs its attacks especially against the philosophical kn
owledge and comprehension of God. Not only does it teach that we are to believe
and to know in an immediate manner, not only is it maintained that the conscious
ness of God is bound up with the consciousness of self, but that the relation to
God is only an immediate one. The irnmediateness of the connection is taken as
excluding the other characteristic of mediateness, and philosophy, because it is
mediated knowledge, is said to be only a finite knowledge of that which is fini
te.
Thus this knowledge in its immediacy is to get no further than this, that we kno
w that God is, but not what He is; the content, the filling up of the idea of Go
d, is negated. By philosophical knowledge or cognition, we mean not only that we
know that an object is, but also what it is ; and that to know what it is, is n
ot to know it to the extent of possessing a certain knowledge, certainty, of wha
t it is ; but more than this, this knowledge must relate to its characteristics,
to its content, and it must be complete and full and proved knowledge, in which
the necessary connection of these characteristics is a matter of knowledge.
If we consider more closely what is involved in the assertion of immediate knowl
edge, it is seen to mean that the consciousness so relates itself to its content
that it itself and this content God are inseparable. It is this relation, in fa
ct knowledge of God and this inseparableness of consciousness from this content,
which we call religion. Further, however, it is of the essence of this assertio
n that we are to limit ourselves to the consideration of religion as such, and t
o keep strictly to the . consideration of the relation to God, and are not to pr
oceed to the knowledge of God, that is, of the divine content of what the divine
 content essentially is in itself.
In this sense it is stated, further, that we can only know our relation to God,
not what God Himself is ; and that it is only our relation to God which is embra
ced in what is generally called religion. Thus it happens that at the present ti
me we only hear religion spoken of, and do not find that investigation is made r
egarding the nature of God, what He is in Himself, and how the nature of God mus
t be determined. God, as God, is not even made an object of thought ; knowledge
does not trench upon that object, and does not exhibit distinct attributes in Hi
m, so as to make it possible that He Himself should be conceived of as constitut
ing the relation of these attributes, and as relation in Himself. God is not bef
ore us as an object of knowledge, but only our relation with God, our relation t
o Him ; and while discussions of the nature of God have become fewer and fewer,
it is now only required of a man that he should be religious, that he should abi
de by religion, and we are told that we are not to proceed further to get a know
ledge of any divine content.
c. If, however, we bring out what is inherent in the principle of immediate know
ing, that is, what is directly affirmed in it, we find it to be just this, that
God is spoken of in relation to consciousness in such a way that this relation i
s something inseparable, or, in other words, that we must of necessity contempla
te loth. It implies, in the first place, the essential distinction which the con
ception of religion contains ; on the one side, subjective consciousness, and on
the other, God recognised as Object in Himself, or implicitly. At the same time
, however, it is stated that there is an essential relation between the two, and
that it is this inseparable relation of religion which is the real point, and n
ot the notions which one may have concerning God.
What is really contained in this position, and really constitutes its true kerne
l, is the philosophical Idea itself, only that this Idea is confined by immediat
e knowledge within limitations which are abolished by philosophy, and which are
by it exhibited in their onesidedness and I untruth. According to the philosophi
cal conception, God
I is Spirit, is concrete ; and if we inquire more closely what Spirit is, we fin
d that the whole of religious doctrine consists in the development of the fundam
ental conception of Spirit. For the present, however, it may suffice to say that
Spirit is essentially self-manifestation its nature is to , be for Spirit. Spir
it is for Spirit, and not, be it observed, only in an external, accidental manne
r. On the contrary, Spirit is only Spirit in so far as it is for Spirit ; this c
onstitutes the conception or notion of Spirit itself. Or, to express it more the
ologically, God is essentially Spirit, so far as He is in His Church. It has bee
n said that the world, the material universe, must have spectators, and must be
for Spirit or mind ; how much more, then, must God be for Spirit.
We cannot, consequently, view the matter in a onesided way, and consider the sub
ject merely according to its finiteness, to its contingent life, but inasmuch to
o as it has the infinite absolute object as its content. For if the Subject be c
onsidered by itself, it is considered within the limits of finite knowledge, of
knowledge which concerns the finite. It is also maintained, on the other hand, t
hat God, in like manner, must not be considered for Himself, for man only knows
of God in relation to consciousness ; and thus the unity and inseparability of t
he two determinations of the knowledge of God and self-consciousness even presup
poses what is expressed in identity, and that dreaded identity itself is contain
ed in it.
As a matter of fact, we thus find the fundamental conception which belongs to ph
ilosophy already existing as an universal element in the cultured thought of the
present day. And here it becomes apparent, too, that philosophy does not stand
above its age as if it were something absolutely different from the general char
acter of the time, but that it is One Spirit which pervades both the actual worl
d and philosophical thought, and that this last is only the true self-comprehens
ion of what is actual. Or, in other words, it is one movement upon which both th
e age and its philosophy are borne, the distinction being only that the characte
r of the time still appears to present itself as accidental, and is not rational
ly justified, and may thus even stand in an unreconciled, hostile attitude towar
ds the truly essential content; while philosophy, as the justification of princi
ples, is at the same time the universal peace-bringer and universal reconciliati
on. As the Lutheran Reformation carried faith back to the first centuries, so th
e principle of immediate knowledge has carried Christian knowledge back to the p
rimary elements. If, however, this process at first causes the essential content
to evaporate, yet it is philosophy which recognises this very principle of imme
diate knowledge as representing content, and as being such carries it forward to
its true expansion within itself.
The want of sound sense which marks the arguments advanced against philosophy kn
ows no bounds. The very opinions which are supposed by those who hold them to mi
litate against philosophy, and to be in the sharpest antagonism to it, upon exam
ination of their content exhibit essential agreement with that which they combat
. Thus the result of the study of philosophy is that these walls of separation,
which are supposed to divide absolutely, become transparent; and that when we go
to the root of things we find that there is absolute accordance where it was be
lieved that there was the greatest opposition.

B. PRELIMINARY QUESTIONS.

Before we can proceed to the treatment of our subject itself, it appears to be i

ndispensable to solve several preliminary questions, or rather to institute an i
nvestigation into these with the view of showing that the possibility of any suc
h treatment of the subject, and of a rational knowledge of religion, is made dep
endent on the result of this investigation. It appears to be absolutely necessar
y to examine and to answer these questions, for this reason, that they have very
specially engaged the interest of thinking men in our day, both in a philosophi
cal and in a popular connection, and because they have to do with the principles
upon which prevalent opinions regarding the religious content, or substantial e
lement of religion, as also regarding the knowledge of it, are based. If we omit
such examination, it will at least be necessary to prove that this omission is
not accidental, and that we possess the right to do this, since the essential el
ement of any such examination is included in the science of philosophy itself, a
nd all those questions can only find their solution there.
Here, therefore, we have only to look the hindrances in the face which the cultu
re and opinion of the time, as hitherto considered, put in the way of our exerci
sing the right to get an intellectual grasp of religion.
i. In the first place, it is not religion in general that we have before us, but
positive religion, regarding which it is acknowledged that it is the gift of Go
d, which rests on higher than human authority, and therefore appears to be outsi
de the sphere of human reason, and to be elevated above it. The first hindrance
in this connection is, that we should be called upon, before proceeding further,
to verify the competence and capability of reason to deal with the truth and do
ctrine of a religion which is supposed to be withdrawn from the sphere of human
reason. Rational or philosophical knowledge comes, however, and must of necessit
y come, into relation with positive religion. It has been said indeed, and is sa
id still, that positive religion is "for itself," or stands on its own basis. We
do not question its doctrines ; we respect them, and hold them in honour; on th
e other side stands reason, thought, which seeks to grasp its object intellectua
lly, and these two are supposed not to come into relation ; reason is not to int
erfere with these doctrines. Formerly, it was imagined that the freedom of philo
sophical investigation could be guarded in this way. It was then said, that it w
as a thing by itself, which was not to do any harm to positive religion, and its
result, moreover, also was subordinated to the teaching of positive religion. W
e do not wish, however, to place the present investigation on this footing. It i
s a false idea that these two, faith and free philosophical investigation, can s
ubsist quietly side by side. There is no foundation for maintaining that faith i
n the content or essential element of positive religion can continue to exist, i
f reason has convinced itself of the opposite. The Church has, therefore, consis
tently and justly refused to allow that reason might stand in opposition to fait
h, and yet be placed under subjection to it. The human spirit in its inmost natu
re is not something so divided up that two contradictory elements might subsist
together in it. If discord has arisen between intellectual insight and religion,
and is not overcome in knowledge, it leads to despair, which comes in the place
of reconciliation. This despair is reconciliation carried out in a one-sided ma
nner. The one side is cast away, the other alone held fust ; but a man cannot wi
n true peace in this way. The one alternative is, for the divided spirit to reje
ct the demands of the intellect and try to return to simple religious feeling. T
o this, however, the spirit can only attain by doing violence to itself, for the
independence of consciousness demands satisfaction, and will not be thrust asid
e by force ; and to renounce independent thought, is not within the power of the
healthy mind. Religious feeling becomes yearning hyprocrisy, and retains the mo
ment of non-satisfaction. The other alternative is a one-sided attitude of indif
ference toward religion, which is either left unquestioned and let alone, or is
ultimately attacked and opposed. That is the course followed by shallow spirits.

This, then, is the first preliminary question in virtue of which the right of re
ason to occupy itself with the doctrines of religion has to be proved.
. In the sphere above referred to, it is only maintained that reason cannot appr
ehend the truth of the nature of God : the possibility of apprehending other tru
ths is not denied to it ; it is only the highest truth which is said to be beyon
d its knowledge. According to another position, however, it is entirely denied t
o reason to. know truth at all. It is asserted that philosophical knowledge, whe
n it deals with Spirit in its true essence, in and for itself, with life, with t
he infinite, only produces mistakes, and that reason must renounce all claim to
grasp anything of the infinite in an affirmative manner ; the infinite is destro
yed by thought, is brought down to the level of the finite. This result, in rega
rd to reason, this negation of reason, is even said to be a result of rational k
nowledge itself. Thus it would be necessary first to examine reason itself in or
der to ascertain whether the capability of knowing God, and consequently the pos
sibility of a philosophy of religion, is inherent in it.
. It follows from this that the knowledge of God is not to be placed in the reas
on which seeks to comprehend its object, but that the consciousness of God sprin
gs only out of feeling ; and that the relation of man to God lies within the sph
ere of feeling only, and is not to be brought over into thought. If God be exclu
ded from the region of rational intelligence or insight, of necessary, substanti
al subjectivity, nothing indeed is left but to assign to Him the region of accid
ental subjectivity, that of feeling, and in this case it may well be a subject o
f wonder that objectivity is ascribed to God at all. In this respect, materialis
tic views, or by whatever other name you choose to designate them, empirical, hi
storical, naturalistic, have been at least more consistent, in that they have ta
ken Spirit and Thought for something material, and imagine they have traced the
matter back to sensations, even taking God to be a product of feeling, and denyi
ng to Him objectivity. The result has, in this case, been atheism. God would thu
s be an historical product of weakness, of fear, of joy, or of interested hopes,
 cupidity, and lust of power. What has its root only in my feelings, is only for
me ; it is mine, but not its own ; it has no independent existence in and for i
tself. Therefore it appears to be necessary, before going further, to show that
God is not rooted in feeling merely, is not merely my God. For this reason the o
lder metaphysic has always demonstrated first of all that a God is, and not mere
ly that there is a feeling of God, and thus the Philosophy of Religion too finds
the demand made upon it to demonstrate God.
It might seem as if the other sciences had the advantage over philosophy, inasmu
ch as their material is already acknowledged, and they are exempted from the nec
essity of proving the existence of this material. To arithmetic the fact of numb
ers, to geometry that of space, to medicine that of human bodies and diseases, i
s granted from the very beginning, and it is not required of them to prove, for
example, that space, bodies, diseases, exist. Philosophy, however, seems to labo
ur under the disadvantage of being obliged, before beginning, to guarantee an ex
istence to its objects ; if it be granted without challenge that there is a worl
d, yet no sooner does philosophy go on to assume the reality of the immaterial i
n general, of a Thought and Spirit free from what is material, and still more th
e reality of God, than it is at once taken to task. The object with which philos
ophy occupies itself is not, however, of such a character as to be something mer
ely hypothetical, and it is not to be regarded as such. Were it so, philosophy,
and especially the Philosophy of Religion, would have in the first place to veri
fy its object for itself. It would have to direct its efforts toward showing it
to be necessary that before it exist it prove that it is ; it would have before
its existence to prove its existence.
These, then, are the preliminary questions which it seems would have to be solve
d beforehand, as in their solution the very possibility of a Philosophy of Relig
ion would lie. For, if such points of view be valid, then any Philosophy of Reli
gion is absolutely impossible, since in order to prove its possibility these obs
tacles must in the first place be removed. So it appears at first sight. We neve
rtheless leave them on one side ; and for what reason we do so will, so far as t
he principal points are concerned, be briefly explained, in order that this diff
iculty may be met.
The first demand is that reason, the faculty of knowledge, should be examined to
begin with, before we advance to knowledge. Knowledge is thus conceived of as i
f it were to be got at by means of an instrument, with which the truth is to be
laid hold of. When looked at more closely, however, the demand that this instrum
ent should first be known is a clumsy one. Criticism of the faculty of knowledge
is a position of the Kantian philosophy, and one which is general in the presen
t time, and in the theology of the day. It was believed to be a great discovery,
but as so often happens in the world, this belief proved to be selfdeception. F
or it is commonly the case that when people have a notion which they consider to
be a very clever one, it is in connection with it that they show themselves mos
t foolish, and their satisfaction consists in having found a splendid outlet for
their folly and ignorance. Indeed they are inexhaustible in finding such outlet
s when it is a question of keeping a good conscience in the face of their indole
nce, and of getting quit of the whole affair.
Reason is to be examined, but how ? It is to be rationally examined, to be known
; this is, however, only possible by means of rational thought ; it is impossib
le in any other way, and consequently a demand is made which cancels itself. If
we are not to begin philosophical speculation without having attained rationally
to a knowledge of reason, no beginning can be made at all, for in getting to kn
ow anything in the philosophical sense, we comprehend it rationally ; we are, it
seems, to give up attempting this, since the very thing we have to do is first
of all to know reason. This is just the demand which was made by that Gascon who
would not go into the water until he could swim. It is impossible to make any p
reliminary examination of rational activity without being rational.
Here in the Philosophy of Religion it is more especially God, reason in fact, th
at is the object ; for God is essentially rational, rationality, which as Spirit
is in and for itself. Now in speculating philosophically upon reason, we invest
igate knowledge, only we do it in such a way as to imply that we do not suppose
we would want to complete this investigation beforehand outside of the object ;
on the contrary, the knowledge of reason is precisely the object with which we a
re concerned. It is of the very essence of Spirit to be for Spirit. That is just
what Spirit is, and this consequently implies that finite spirit has been posit
ed, and the relation of finite spirit, of finite reason to the divine, originate
s of itself within the Philosophy of Religion itself, and must be treated of the
re, and indeed in the very place where it first originates. It is this which con
stitutes the difference between a science and conjectures about a science ; the
latter are accidental; in so far, however, as they are thoughts, which relate to
the matter itself, they must be included in its treatment, and they are in this
case no longer mere chance bubbles of thought.
Spirit in making itself an object gives itself essentially the form of Appearanc
e or Manifestation, as something which comes in a higher manner to the finite sp
irit ; and it is essentially owing to this that the finite spirit arrives at a p
ositive religion. Spirit becomes for itself or actual in the form of mental repr
esentation or idea, in the form of the Other, and for that other for which it is
, religion is produced as something positive. Thus, too, there is inherent in re
ligion that characteristic of reason in virtue of which it involves knowledge, i
n virtue of which it is activity of comprehension and of thought. This standpoin
t of knowledge is included in religion, and so, too, is the standpoint of feelin
g. feeling is the subjective element; that which belongs to me as this individua
l, and because of which it is to myself that I appeal. The standpoint of feeling
, too, in so far as God gives Himself this ultimate individualisation of This On
e, of one who feels, has its place in the development of the conception of relig
ion, because this feeling has in it a spiritual relation, has spirituality in it
. The determination, too, that God is, is a determination which is essentially i
ncluded in the consideration of religion.
Religion, however, speaking generally, is the ultimate and the highest sphere of
human consciousness, whether it be opinion, will, idea, ordinary knowledge, or
philosophical knowledge. It is the absolute result it is the region into which m
an passes over, as into the domain of absolute truth.
By reason of this universal character of religion, consciousness must, when in t
his sphere, have already raised itself above all that is finite above finite exi
stence, conditions, ends, interests, as well as above finite thoughts, finite re
lations of all kinds. To be actually within the sphere of religion, it is necess
ary to have laid these aside.
Yet although even for the ordinary consciousness religion is the act of rising u
p above the finite, it usually happens when philosophy in general, and especiall
y the philosophy which deals with God, with religion, is attacked, that in suppo
rt of this polemical attitude, finite thoughts, relations belonging to limitatio
n, categories and forms of the finite are brought forward to the disregard of th
is fundamental characteristic. Such forms of the finite are made points of depar
ture from which to oppose philosophy, especially the highest philosophy, the Phi
losophy of Religion.
We shall only touch briefly upon this. Immediacy of knowledge the fact of consci
ousness is, for example, such a finite form ; such finite categories are the ant
itheses of finite and infinite, subject and object. But these antitheses, finite
or infinite, subject or object, are abstract forms, which are out of place in s
uch an absolutely rich, concrete content as religion is. In Spirit, soul that wh
ich has to do with religion quite other qualities are present than finiteness, &
c. ; and on such qualities is based all that is essential in religion. These for
ms must indeed be employed, since they are moments of the essential relation whi
ch lies at the foundation of religion, but it is of primary importance that thei
r nature should have been examined into and recognised long before. This logical
knowledge, which comes first, must lie behind us when we have to deal with reli
gion scientifically ; such categories must have long ago been done with. But the
usual thing is to employ these as weapons against the Notion, the Idea; against
rational knowledge. Those categories are used entirely without criticism, in a
quite artless way, just as if Kant's " Critique of Pure Reason" did not exist, w
hich at least attacked these forms, and after its own fashion reached the result
that it is only phenomena which can be known by ' means of these categories. In
religion it is not, however, with phenomena that we have to do, it is with ah a
bsolute content. But those who employ this argumentative kind of reasoning seem
to think the Kantian philosophers have existed only to afford opportunity for th
e more unblushing use of those categories.
It is entirely out of place, it is indeed preposterous, to bring forward these c
ategories, such as immediacy, fact of consciousness, in opposition to philosophy
, and to meet philosophy with the reply that the finite is different from the in
finite, and the object from the subject, as if there were any one, any philosoph
er whatever, who did not know this, or had still to learn such trivialities. Yet
people are not ashamed to parade triumphantly cleverness of this sort, as if th
ey had made a new discovery.
We shall here remark only that such characteristics as finite and infinite, subj
ect and object and this is what always constitutes the foundation of that very k
nowing and overwise talk are undoubtedly different, but are at the same time ins
eparable too. We have an example of this in physics, in the north and south pole
of the magnet. It is often said " those characteristics are as different as hea
ven and earth." That is quite correct ; they are absolutely different, but as is
already suggested by the figure just mentioned, they are inseparable. Earth can
not be shown without heaven, and vice versa.
It is difficult to enter into discussion with those who wage war on the Philosop
hy of Religion and think they have triumphed over it, for they tell us so bluntl
y that immediacy, after all, " is something quite different from mediation." At
the same time they show an incredible ignorance, and a complete want of acquaint
ance with the forms and categories by means of which they make their attacks and
pronounce a final judgment upon philosophy. They make their affirmations quite
artlessly, withOut having thought over these subjects, or having made any thorou
gh observation of external nature and of the inner experience of their conscious
ness of their minds and of the manner in which these qualities present themselve
s there. Keality is not for them something present, but is something strange and
unknown. The hostile language which they direct against philosophy is therefore
mere scholastic pedantry the chatter of the schools which entangles itself in e
mpty, unsubstantial categories, while in philosophy we are not in the so-called
" school," but are in the world of reality ; and in the wealth of its qualities
we do not find a yoke under which we are in bondage, but have in them free movem
ent. And then, those who attack and disparage philosophy are, owing to their fin
ite style of thinking, incapable of even grasping a philosophical proposition ;
and though they may perhaps repeat its words, they have given it a wrong meaning
, for. they have not grasped its infiniteness, but have introduced their finite
conditions into it. Thus philosophy is indefatigable, so to speak, and imposes u
pon itself the great labour of carefully investigating what its opponents have t
o say. Indeed that is its necessary course, being in accordance with its concept
ion, and it can only satisfy the inward impulse of its notion or conception by g
etting a knowledge both of itself and of what is opposed to it (mrum index sui e
t falsi), but it ought to be able to expect as a recompense that the opposition
should now, by way of a reciprocal service, relinquish its hostility, and calmly
comprehend its essential nature. But that is certainly not the result in this c
ase, and the magnanimity which desires to recognise in a friendly way the advers
ary, and which heaps coals of fire on his head, does not help philosophy in the
least ; for the adversary will not keep quiet, but persists in his attacks. When
we perceive, however, that the antithesis vanishes like a phantom, and dissolve
s into mist, we shall at the same time only render to ourselves and to philosopl
iical thought what is due, and shall not seek merely to carry our point as again
st the other. And indeed to convince that " other," to exert this personal influ
ence upon him, is impossible, since he remains wedded to his limited categories.

The thinking spirit must have got beyond all these forms of Eeflectiou ; it must
know their nature, the true relation involved in them, the infinite relation, t
hat is to say, that in which their finiteness is done away with. Then it will be
come apparent, too, that immediate knowledge, like mediated knowledge, is entire
ly one-sided. What is true is their unity, an immediate knowledge which is likew
ise mediated, something mediated which is likewise simple in itself, which is im
mediate reference to itself. Inasmuch as the one-sidedness is done away with by
means of such combination, it is a condition of infiniteness. Here is union, in
which the difference of those characteristics is done away with, while they at t
he same time being preserved ideally have the higher destiny of serving as the p
ulse of vitality, the impulse, movement, unrest of the spiritual, as of the natu
ral life.
Since it is with religion, with what is supreme and ultimate, that we are to be
occupied in the following dissertation, we ought now to be in a position to assu
me that the futility of those relations has long ago been overcome. But at the s
ame time, since we do not begin at the very beginning of the science, but are co
nsidering religion per se, regard must be also had when dealing with it to such
relations of understanding as are wont to come principally under consideration i
n connection with it.
With this reference to the following dissertation itself, we shall now proceed t
o give the general survey, the synopsis or division of our science.
Aufgehoben = abrogated, annulled, done away with, but also "preserved," as below
. This is an example of the use of the word in the second phase of its double me
aning.

C. DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT.

There can be but one method in all science, since the method is the self-unfoldi
ng Notion (Begriff) and nothing else, and this latter is only one.
In accordance, therefore, with the moments of the Notion, the exposition and dev
elopment of religion will be presented in three parts. In the first place, the n
otion or conception of religion will be considered in its universal aspect; then
, secondly, in its particular form as the self-dividing and self-differentiating
notion, that is, under the aspect of judgment, of limitation, of difference, an
d of finiteness ; and thirdly, we shall consider the notion, which encloses itse
lf within itself, the syllogism, or the return of the notion to itself out of th
e particularity in which it is unequal to itself, so that it arrives at equality
with its form, and does away with its limitation. This is the rhythm, the pure
eternal life of Spirit itself; and had it not this movement, it would be somethi
ng dead. It is of the essential nature of Spirit to have itself as object, and t
hence arises its manifestation. But here Spirit is to begin with in the relation
of objectivity, and in this relation it is something finite. The third stage is
 reached when it is object to itself in such a way that it reconciles itself wit
h itself in the object, is " with itself," and in being so has attained its free
dom. For freedom means to be self-contained, or at home with oneself.
But this rhythm, within which our science as a whole, and the entire development
of the Notion moves, reappears in each of the three moments specified, since ea
ch of these is potentially totality in its determinateness, until this totality
is made explicit as such in the final moment. Therefore, when the Notion first a
ppears in the form of Universality, then in the form of Particularity, and lastl
y, in the form of Singularity, or when the movement of our science as a whole is
that in which the Notion becomes judgment, and completes itself in the syllogis
m, in every sphere of this movement the same development of the moments will sho
w itself, only that in the first sphere it is held together within the determina
te character of universality, in the second sphere within that of particularity,
where it exhibits the moments independently, and it is only on arriving at the
sphere of individuality that it returns to the real syllogism, which mediates it
self in the totality of determinations.
Such, then, is the division of the subject, representing the movement, nature, a
nd action of Spirit itself, of which we, so to speak, are only spectators. It is
necessitated by the Notion ; the necessity of the progression has, however, to
present, explicate) prove itself in the development itself. The division, the di
fferent parts and content of which we shall now indicate in a more definite way,
is therefore simply historical.

I. THE GENEKAL NOTION OR CONCEPTION OF RELIGION.

What comes first is the notion in its universal aspect, what follows in the seco
nd place is the determinateness of the notion, the notion in its definite forms
; these are indissolubly united with the notion itself, for in the philosophical
mode of treatment it is not the case that the Universal, the Notion, is put int
o prominence, to do it honour, as it were. There are indeed notions or conceptio
ns of Eight and of Nature which are general definitions, and which are given a p
rominent place, and as to which there is to tell the truth room for doubt. These
are not, however, taken seriously, and so we feel that it is not these that are
of importance, but the particular content itself, the particular subjects. What
is in this connection called the notion, has no further influence upon this con
tent beyond pointing out in a general way what is the ground upon which we stand
in dealing with these subjects, and preventing the introduction of content from
any other sphere. The content, for example, magnetism, electricity, answers to
the subject-matter itself, the notion to the formal element. The conception or n
otion which is placed in the foreground (as, for example, that of Eight) may, ho
wever, in connection with such a mode of considering the subject, become a mere
name for the most abstract, uncertain content. For the philosophical way of look
ing at things, too, the notion occupies the first place, but here the notion is
the content itself, the absolute subject-matter, the substance, as in the case o
f the germ, out of which the whole tree develops itself. All specifications or d
eterminations are contained in this, the whole nature of the tree, the kind of s
ap it has, the way in which the branches grow ; but in a spiritual manner, and n
ot pre-formed so that a microscope could reveal its boughs, its leaves, in minia
ture. It is thus that the notion contains the whole nature of the object, and kn
owledge itself is nothing else than the development of the notion, of that which
is implicitly contained in the notion, and has not yet come into existence, has
not been unfolded, displayed. Thus we begin with the notion or conception of re
ligion.
i. The Moment of Universality.
In the notion or conception of religion the purely universal, again, does indeed
take the first place ; that is, the moment of thought in its complete universal
ity. It is not this or that that is thought, but Thought thinks itself. The obje
ct is the Universal, which, as active, is Thought. As the act of rising up to th
e True, religion is a departing from sensuous, finite objects. If this becomes m
erely an advance to an " Other," it is the false progressive process ad infinitu
m, and is that kind of talk which does not get out of the bit. Thought, however,
is a rising up from the limited to the absolutely Universal, and religion is on
ly through thought, and in thought. r God is not the highest emotion, but the hi
ghest Thought. Although He is lowered down to popular conception, yet the conten
t of this conception belongs to the realm of thought. The opinion that thought i
s injurious to religion, and that the more thought is abandoned the more secure
the position of religion is, is the maddest error of our time. This misunderstan
ding originates in a fundamental misconception of the higher spiritual relations
. Thus in regard to Right, good-will for itself (or as an independent motive) is
taken as something which stands in contrast to intelligence, and men are given
the more credit for true good-will the less they think. Right and morality, on t
he contrary, consist in this alone, that I am a thinking being; that is to say,
in the fact that I do not look upon my freedom as that of my empirical personali
ty, which belongs to me as this individual, and in which I might subjugate my ne
ighbour by means of stratagem or force, but in my regarding freedom as something
that has its being in and for itself, or exists on its own account, that is, as
something Universal.
If we now say that religion has the moment of thought in its complete Universali
ty in itself, and that the Unlimited-Universal is supreme absolute Thought, we d
o not as yet make the distinction here between subjective and objective Thought.
The Universal is object, and is thought pure and simple, but not as yet thought
developed and made determinate in itself. All distinctions are as yet absent, a
nd exist potentially only. In this ether of thought all that is finite has passe
d away, everything has disappeared, while at the same time everything is include
d in it. But this element of the Universal has not as vet taken those more expli
cit forms. Out of this liquid element, and in this transparency, nothing has as
yet fashioned itself into distinct shape.
Now the further advance consists in this, that this Universal determines itself
for itself, and this self-determination constitutes the development of the Idea
of God. In the sphere of Universality the Idea itself is, to begin with, the mat
erial of determination, and the progress is revealed in divine figures, but as y
et the second element form is retained in the divine Idea, which is still in its
substantiality, and under the character of eternity it remains in the bosom of
the Universal.

. The Moment of Particularity, or the Sphere of Differentiation.

The particularisation, therefore, which is as yet retained in the sphere of the
Universal, when it actually manifests itself outwardly as such, constitutes the
Other as against the extreme of Universality, and this other extreme is consciou
sness in its individuality as such. It is the subject in its immediacy, and with
its needs, conditions, sins in fact, in its wholly empirical, temporal characte
r.
In religion, I am myself the relation of the two sides as thus determined. I who
think, who arn that which lifts myself up, the active Universal, and Ego, the i
mmediate subject, are one and the same " I." And further, the relation of these
two sides which are so sharply opposed the absolutely finite consciousness and b
eing on the one hand, and the infinite on the other exists in religion for me. I
n thinking I lift myself up to the Absolute above all that is finite, and am inf
inite consciousness, while I am at the same time finite consciousness, and indee
d am such in accordance with my whole .empirical character. Both sides, as well
as their relation, exist for me. Both sides seek each other, and both flee from
each other. At one time, for example, I accentuate my empirical, finite consciou
sness, and place myself in opposition to infiniteness ; at another I exclude mys
elf from myself, condemn myself, and give the preponderance to the infinite cons
ciousness. The middle term contains nothing else than the characteristics of bot
h the extremes. They are not pillars of Hercules, which confront each other shar
ply. I am, and it is in myself and for myself that this conflict and this concil
iation take place. In myself, I as infinite am against or in contrast with mysel
f as finite, and as finite consciousness I stand over against my thought as infi
nite. I am the feeling, the perception, the idea alike of this unity and this co
nflict, and am what holds together the conflicting elements, the effort put fort
h in this act of holding together, and represent the labour of heart and soul to
obtain the mastery over this opposition.
I am thus the relation of these two sides, which are not abstract determinations
, as " finite and infinite." On the contrary, each is itself totality. Each of t
he two extremes is itself " I," what relates them ; and the holding together, th
e relating, is itself this which is at once in conflict with itself, and brings
itself to unity in the conflict. Or, to put it differently, I am the conflict, f
or the conflict is just this antagonism, which is not any indifference of the tw
o as different, but is their being bound together. I am not one of those taking
part in the strife, but I am both the combatants, and am the strife itself. I am
the fire and the water which touch each other, and am the contact and union of
what flies apart, and this very contact itself is this double, essentially confl
icting relation, as the relation of what is now separated, severed, and now reco
nciled and in unity with itself.
As representing the forms of the relation of the two extremes, we shall make our
selves acquainted with (i) Feeling; () Sense-perception; () Idea, or ordinary th
ought, Before entering upon this subject, it will be necessary to get a knowledg
e of the entire sphere of these relations in its necessity, in so far as it cont
ains, as elevation of the finite consciousness to the Absolute, the forms of rel
igious consciousness. In investigating this necessity of religion, we are oblige
d to conceive religion as posited through what is other than itself.
In this mediation indeed, when it opens for us the way into the sphere of those
forms of consciousness, religion will present itself already as a result which a
t once does away with itself as a result ; consequently it will present itself a
s the primary thing, through which all is mediated, and on which all else depend
s. We shall thus see in what is mediated the counter-impact, the reciprocal acti
on of the movement and of necessity, which both goes forwards and pushes backwar
ds. But this mediation of necessity is now to be posited within religion itself
too, so that in fact the relation and the essential connection of the two sides,
which are comprised in the religious spirit, may be known as necessary. The for
ms of feeling, of sense-perception, and of idea or mental representation, as the
y necessarily proceed one out of the other, are now forced of themselves into th
at sphere in which the inward mediation of their moments proves itself to be nec
essary, that is to say, into the sphere of thought in which religious consciousn
ess will get a grasp of itself in its notion. These two mediations of necessity,
therefore, of which one leads to religion and the other takes place within reli
gious consciousness itself, comprise the forms of religious consciousness as it
appears as feeling, sense-perception, and idea or ordinary thought.
. The Annulling of the Differentiation, or Worship (Cultus).
The movement in the preceding sphere is just that of the notion of God, of the I
dea, in becoming objective to itself. We have this movement before us in the lan
guage of ordinary thought, in the expression " God is a Spirit." Spirit is not s
omething having a single existence, but is Spirit only in being objective to its
elf, and in beholding itself in the " Other," as itself. The highest characteris
tic of Spirit is self-consciousness, which includes this objecttivity in itself.
God, as Idea, is subjective for what is objective, and is objective for what is
subjective. When the moment of subjectivity defines itself further, so that the
distinction is made between God as Object and the knowing spirit, the subjectiv
e side defines itself in this distinction as that which belongs to the side of f
miteness, and the two stand at first so contrasted, that the separation constitu
tes the antithesis of fmiteness and infiniteness. This infinitude, however, bein
g still encumbered with this opposition, is not the true infinitude; to the subj
ective side, which exists for itself, the absolute object remains still an Other
, and the relation in which it stands to it is not self-consciousness. Such an a
ttitude, however, also involves the relation which is expressed by saying, that
the finite knows itself as a nullity in its state of separation, and knows its o
bject as the Absolute, as its Substance. And here the first attitude toward the
absolute object is that of fear; for individuality knows itself as in regard to
the absolute object only as accidental, or as something which is transient and v
anishing. But this standpoint of separation is not the true relation. On the con
trary, it is what knows itself to be a nullity, and, therefore, something which
is to be done away with and absorbed ; and its attitude is not merely a negative
one, but is in itself, or implicitly, positive. The subject recognises the abso
lute substance, in which it has to annul or lose itself, as being at the same ti
me its essence, its substance, in which, therefore, self-consciousness is inhere
ntly contained. It is this unity, reconciliation, restoration of the subject and
of its self-consciousness, the positive feeling of possessing a share in, of pa
rtaking in this Absolute, and making unity with it actually one's own this aboli
tion of the dualism, which constitutes the sphere of worship. Worship comprises
this entire inward and outward action, which has this restoration to unity as it
s object. The expression " worship " is usually taken merely in the limited sens
e in which it is understood to mean only outward public acts, and the inward act
ion of the heart does not get so much prominence. "We, however, shall conceive o
f worship as that action which includes both inwardness and outward manifestatio
n, and which in fact produces restoration of unity with the Absolute, and in so
doing is also essentially an inward conversion of the spirit and soul. Thus Chri
stian worship does not only include the sacraments and the acts and duties perta
ining to the Church, but it also includes the so-called " way of salvation " as
a matter of absolutely inward history, and as a series of actions on the part of
the inner life in fact, a movement which goes forward in the soul, and has its
right place there.
But we shall always find these two sides, that of self-consciousness, that is, o
f worship, and that of consciousness or of idea, corresponding with each other a
t every stage of religion. According as the content of the notion or conception
of God or consciousness is determined, so too is the attitude of the subject to
Him ; or to put it otherwise, so too is self-consciousness in worship determined
. The one moment is always a reflection or copy of the other, the one points to
the other. Both modes, of which the one holds fast to objective consciousness on
ly, and the other to pure selfconsciousness, are one-sided, and each brings abou
t its own abrogation.
It was, therefore, a one-sided view if the natural theology of former times look
ed upon God as Object of consciousness only. Such a mode of contemplating the Id
ea of God, although the words " Spirit " or " Person " might be made use of, cou
ld never in reality get beyond the idea of au Essence. It was inconsistent, for
if actually carried out it must have led to the other, the subjective side, that
of self-consciousness.
It is just as one-sided to conceive of religion as something subjective only, th
us in fact making the subjective aspect the only one. So regarded, worship is ab
solutely bald and empty ; its action is a movement which makes no advance, its a
ttitude toward God a relation to a nullity, an aiming at nothing. But even this
merely subjective action has inconsistency inherent in it, and must of necessity
annul itself. For if the subjective side also is to be in any way determined or
qualified, it is involved too in the very conception of Spirit, that it is cons
ciousness, and that its determinate character becomes object to it. The richer t
he feeling, the more fully determined or specialised it is, the richer must the
object be for it too. And further, the absoluteness of that feeling, which is su
pposed to be substantial, would, in accordance with its very nature, require to
set itself free from its subjectivity ; for the substantial character which is s
upposed to belong to it, is specially directed against the accidental element of
opinion and of inclination, is in fact something permanent and fixed in and for
itself, independent of our feeling or experience. It is the Objective, what exi
sts in and for itself. If this substantial element remains shut up in the heart
only, it is not recognised as the something higher than ourselves, and God Himse
lf becomes something merely subjective, while the efforts of subjectivity remain
at the most, as it were a drawing of lines into empty space. For the recognitio
n of a something higher than ourselves, which is capable too of being described,
this recognition of One who is undefined, and these lines which are to be drawn
in accordance with such recognition, possess no support, no connecting element,
derived from what is objective, and are and remain merely our act, our lines, s
omething subjective, and the finite never attains to a true real renunciation of
itself ; while Spirit ought, on the contrary, iii worship to liberate itself fr
om its finiteness, and to feel and know itself in God. In the absence of that wh
ich is self-existent and commands our obedience, all worship shrinks up into sub
jectivity. Worship is essentially made up of dealings with and enjoyment of a so
mething higher than ourselves, and includes assurances, evidences, and confirmat
ion of the existence of this higher Being; but such definite dealings, such actu
al enjoying and assurances can have no place if the objective, obligatory moment
be wanting to them, and worship would, in fact, be annihilated if the subjectiv
e side were taken to be the whole. The possibility of getting out of the subject
ive heart into action would thus be as much precluded as the possibility of cons
ciousness attaining to objective knowledge. The one is connected in the closest
manner with the other. What a man believes he has to do in relation to God, corr
esponds with the idea which he has formed of God. His consciousness of self answ
ers to his consciousness, and conversely he cannot believe himself to have any d
efinite duties toward God if he neither have nor suppose himself to have any def
inite idea of Him as an Object. Not until religion is really relation, and conta
ins the distinction involved in consciousness, does worship attain to a definite
form as the lifting up into a higher unity of the severed elements, and become
a vital process. This movement of worship does not, however, confine itself to t
he inner life alone in which consciousness frees itself from its finiteness, is
the consciousness of its essence, and the subject as knowing itself in God has p
enetrated into the foundation of its life. But this its infinite life now develo
ps towards what is outside too, for the worldly life which the subject leads has
that substantial consciousness as its basis, and the way and manner in which th
e subject defines its ends depends on the consciousness of its essential truth.
It is in connection with this side that religion reflects itself into worldly or
secular life, and that knowledge of the world shows itself. This going out into
the actual world is essential to religion, and in this transition religion appe
ars as morality in relation to the State and to the entire life of the State. Ac
cording as the religion of nations is constituted, so also is their morality and
their government. The shape taken by these latter depends entirely on whether t
he conception of the freedom of Spirit which a people has reached is a limited o
ne, 'or on whether the nation has the true consciousness of freedom.
The more definite characteristics of worship will be seen to be the moment of pr
esupposed unity, the sphere of separation, and the freedom which re-establishes
itself in the separation.
a. Worship is thus, in fact, the eternal process by which the subject posits its
elf as identical with its essential being.
This process of the cancelling of the dualism seems to belong to the subjective
side only, but it is posited in the object of consciousness too. Through worship
, unity is attained ; what is not originally united, however, cannot be posited
or made explicit as such. This unity, which appears as the act, the result of wo
rship, must be recognised, too, as existing in and for itself. For what is objec
t for consciousness is the Absolute, and its essential characteristic is that it
is unity of its absoluteness with particularity. This unity is therefore in the
object itself; for example, in the Christian conception of the Incarnation of G
od.
This self-existent unity, or, put more definitely, the human form, God's becomin
g man, is in fact an essential moment of religion, and must necessarily appear i
n the definition of its object. In the Christian religion this characteristic is
completely developed, but it occurs, too, in inferior religions, even if the on
ly sign of it is that the infinite is seen in unity with the finite in such a wa
y that it appears as this particular Being, as a definite immediate existence in
stars or animals. Further, too, it must be observed here that it is only moment
arily that God assumes a human or other form of existence, that He becomes exter
nally manifest, or inwardly reveals Himself in a dream, or as an inward voice.
This is the moment of presupposed or hypothetical unity, which is essentially in
volved in the conception of God, and in such a way that the object of consciousn
ess (God) exhibits the entire conception of religion in its content, and is itse
lf totality. The moments of the conception of religion thus present themselves h
ere in the character of unification. Each of the aspects or sides of the true Id
ea is itself the same totality which the whole is. The specific characteristics
of content in the two sides are consequently not different in themselves, but on
ly in their form. The absolute object therefore determines itself for consciousn
ess as totality which is in unity with itself.
&. This totality now presents itself in the form of separation and of finiteness
, which, as representing the other side, stands over against that totality which
is in unity with itself. The moments of the content of the entire conception ar
e here posited as separating themselves from one another, as differentiated, and
consequently as abstract. The first moment on this side of differentiation is t
hat of potentiality, the moment of Being which is in identity with itself, of fo
rmlessness, of objectivity, in fact. This is matter as representing what is indi
fferent or undifferentiated, as existence of which all parts are of equal value.
Form may be introduced into it, but it remains still in a condition of abstract
being for self. We then call it the World, which in relation to God appears par
tly as His garment, vesture, form, or as something in contrast with Himself.
Over against this moment of undifferentiated potential Being there now stands Be
ing-for-self, the Negative in general, Form. This negative now appears, in its a
t first indeterminate form, as the negative element in the world, while the latt
er is the positive element, what subsists. The negativity which is opposed to th
is subsisting element, to this feeling of self, to this definite being, to this
established existence, is Evil. In contrast to God, to this reconciled unity of
Being-in-itself and Being-for-itself, appears the element of distinction or diff
erence. We have on the one hand the world as positively and independently existi
ng, and on the other destruction and contradiction in the world ; and here the q
uestions suggest themselves, which pertain to all religions based on a more or l
ess developed consciousness, as to how evil is to be reconciled with the absolut
e unity of God, and wherein lies the origin of evil.
This negative, in the first place, appears as the evil in the world, but it reca
lls itself into identity with itself, in which it is the Being-for-self of self-
consciousness finite Spirit.
This negative which recalls itself into itself is now once more a something posi
tive, because it relates itself simply to itself. As evil, it appears as involve
d in positive existence. But the negativity which is present for itself and inde
pendently, and not in another which is regarded as having independent existence
of its own, the negativity which reflects itself into itself, the inward, infini
te negativity which is object to itself, is just the " Ego." In this self-consci
ousness, and in its own inner movement, finiteness definitely appears, and self-
contradiction is thus incident in it. Thus there is an element of disturbance in
it, evil makes its appearance in it, and thus is evil of the will.
c. I, however, who am free can abstract from everything ; it is this negativity
and isolation which constitutes my essential being. Evil is not the whole of the
subject. On the contrary, this latter has in it also unity with itself, which c
onstitutes the positive side (goodness) and the absoluteness, the infinitude of
consciousness of self. It is this ability to abstract from all that is immediate
, from all that is external, which constitutes the essential moment of the isola
tion or seclusion of Spirit. This isolation is exempted from the temporariness,
change and vicissitude of this world, from evil and from disunion, and is repres
ented as the absoluteness of consciousness of self in the thought of the immorta
lity of the soul. At first the prominent element in this thought is continued ex
istence in time ; this exemption from the dominion and from the vicissitudes of
change is represented, however, as essentially and originally belonging to Spiri
t, .and not as being brought about secondarily by means of reconciliation. And t
hus advance is made to the further determination that the Spirit's consciousness
of self is an eternal, absolute moment in that eternal life in which it is lift
ed up far above time, above this abstraction of change, and above the reality of
change, above dualism, when it is taken up into the unity and reconciliation wh
ich is presupposed as originally present in the object of consciousness.

II. OF JUDGMENT, OR DEFINITE RELIGION.

If in the first part we have considered religion in its notion or conception, th

e simple conception of religion, the character of the content, the Universal, it
is now necessary to leave this sphere of Universality and go on to treat of det
erminateness in religion.
The notion as such is not as yet unfolded ; the determinate qualities, the momen
ts are contained in it, but are not as yet openly displayed, and have not receiv
ed the right distinction or difference which belongs to them. It is only by mean
s of the judgment (i.e., the act of differentiation) that they receive this. It
is when God, the Notion, performs the act of judgment, and the category of deter
minateness enters, that we first come to have existing religion, which is at the
same time definitely existing religion.
The course followed in passing from the abstract to the concrete is based upon o
ur method, upon the notion, and not on the fact that much special content is pre
sent. There is a complete distinction between this and our point of view. Spirit
, to which belongs Being which is absolute and supreme, is, exists only as activ
ity ; that is to say, in so far as it posits itself, is actual or for itself, an
d produces itself. But in this its activity it has the power of knowing, and onl
y as it thus knows is it that which it is. It is thus essential to religion not
only to exist in its notion, but also to be the consciousness of that which the
notion is, and the material in which the notion as the plan, so to speak, realis
es itself, which it makes its own, which it moulds in accordance with itself, is
 human consciousness. So too, Right, for example, only is when it exists in the
spirit, when it takes possession of the wills of men, and they know of it as the
determination of their wills. And it is in this way that the Idea first realise
s itself, having before only been posited as the form of the notion.
Spirit, in short, is not immediate ; natural things are immediate, and remain in
this condition of immediate Being. The Being of Spirit is not thus immediate, b
ut is, exists only as producing itself, as making itself for itself by means of
negation as Subject ; otherwise it would be substance only. And this coming to i
tself on the part of Spirit is movement, activity, and mediation of itself with
itself.
A stone is immediate, it is complete. Wherever there is life, however, this acti
vity is already to be found. Thus the first form of the existence of plants is t
he feeble existence of the germ, and out of this it has to develop itself and to
produce itself. Finally the plant epitomises itself when it has unfolded itself
in the seed; this beginning of the plant is also its ultimate product.
In like manner man is at first a child, and as belonging to Nature he describes
this round in order to beget another.
In plants there are two kinds of individual forms : this germ which begins, is d
ifferent from the one which is the completion of its life, and in which this evo
lution reaches maturity. But it is the very nature of Spirit, just because it is
living, to be at first only potential, to be in its notion or conception, then
to come forward into existence, to unfold, produce itself, become mature, bringi
ng forth the notion of itself, that which it implicitly is, so that what it is i
n itself or implicitly may be its notion actually or for itself. The child is no
t as yet a reasonable person ; it has capacities only, it is at first reason, Sp
irit, potentially only. It is by means of education and development that it beco
mes Spirit.
This, then, is what is called self-determination entering into existence, being
" for other," bringing one's moments into distinction, and unfolding one's self.
These distinctions are no other than the characteristics which the notion itsel
f implicitly contains.
The development of these distinctions, and the course of the tendencies which re
sult from them, are the way by which Spirit comes to itself ; it is itself, howe
ver, the goal. The absolute end, which is that Spirit should know itself, compre
hend itself, should become object to itself as it is in itself, arrive at perfec
t knowledge of itself, first appears as its true Being. Now this process, follow
ed by self-producing Spirit, this path taken by it, includes distinct moments ;
but the path is not as yet the goal, and Spirit does not reach the goal without
having traversed the path ; it is not originally at the goal ; even what is most
perfect must traverse the path to the goal in order to attain it. Spirit, in th
ese haltingplaces of its progress, is not as yet perfect ; its knowledge, its co
nsciousness regarding itself, is not what is true, and it is not as yet revealed
to itself. Spirit being essentially tins activity of self-production, it follow
s that there are stages of its consciousness, but its consciousness of itself is
always in proportion only to the stage which has been reached. Now these stages
supply us with definite religion ; here religion is consciousness of the univer
sal Spirit, which is not as yet fully developed as absolute ; this consciousness
of Spirit at each stage is definite consciousness of itself, it is the path of
the education of Spirit. We have therefore to consider the definite forms of rel
igion. These, as being stages on the road followed by Spirit, are imperfect.
The different forms or specific kinds of religion are, in one aspect, moments of
religion in general, or of perfected religion. They have, however, an independe
nt aspect too, for in them religion has developed itself in time, and historical
ly.
Religion, in so far as it is definite, and has not as yet completed the circle o
f its determinateness so far that is as it is finite religion, and exists as fin
ite is historical religion, or a particular form of religion. Its principal mome
nts, and also the manner in which they exist historically, being exhibited in th
e progress of religion from stage to stage, and in its development, there thus a
rises a series of forms of religion, or a history of religion.
That which is determined by means of the Notion must of necessity have existed,
and the religions, as they have followed upon one another, have not arisen accid
entally. It is Spirit which rules inner life, and to see only chance here, after
the fashion of the historical school, is absurd.
The essential moments of the notion or conception of religion show themselves an
d make their appearance at every stage in which religion exists at all. It is on
ly because the moments are not as yet posited in the totality of the notion, tha
t any difference between it and its true form arises. These definite religions a
re not indeed our religion, yet they are included in ours as essential, although
as subordinate moments, which cannot miss having in them absolute truth. Theref
ore in them we have not to do with what is foreign to us, but with what is our o
wn, and the knowledge that such is the case is the reconciliation of the true re
ligion with the false. Thus the moments of the notion or conception of religion
appear on lower stages of development, though as yet in the shape of anticipatio
ns or presentiments, as natural flowers and creations of fancy which have, so to
speak, blossomed forth by chance. What determines the characteristics of these
stages, however, through their entire history, is the determinateness of the not
ion itself, which can at no stage be absent. The thought of the Incarnation, for
example, pervades every religion. Such general conceptions make their presence
felt too in other spheres of Spirit. What is substantial in moral relations, as,
for example, property, marriage, protection of the sovereign and of the State,
and the ultimate decision which rests with subjectivity regarding that which is
to be done for the whole, all this is to be found in an uneducated society as we
ll as in the perfect state ; only the definite form of this substantial element
differs according to the degree of culture which such a society has reached. Wha
t is here of special importance, however, is that the notion should also become
actually known in its totality, and in exact accordance with the degree in which
this knowledge is present, is the stage at which the religious spirit is, highe
r or lower, richer or poorer. Spirit may have something in its possession withou
t having a developed consciousness of it. It actually has the immediate, proper
nature of Spirit, has a physical, organic nature, but it does not know that natu
re in its essential character and truth, and has only an approximate, general id
ea of it. Men live in the State, they are themselves the life, activity, actuali
ty of the State, but the positing, the becoming conscious of what the State is,
does not on that account take place, and yet the perfected State just means that
everything which is potentially in it, that is to say, in its notion or concept
ion, should be developed, posited, and made into rights and duties, into law. In
like manner the moments of the notion or conception are actually present in the
definite religions, in mental pictures, feelings, or immediate imagery; but the
consciousness of these moments is not as yet evolved, or, in other words, they
have not as yet been elevated to the point at which they are the determination o
f the absolute object, and God is not as yet actually represented under these de
terminations of the totality of the conception of religion. It is undoubtedly tr
ue that the definite religions of the various peoples often enough exhibit the m
ost distorted, confused, and abortive ideas of the divine Being, arid likewise o
f duties and relations as expressed in worship. But we must not treat the matter
so lightly, and conceive of it in so superficial a manner, as to reject these i
deas and these rites as superstition, error, and deceit, or only trace back thei
r origin to pious feeling, and thus value them as merely representing some sort
of religious feeling, without caring how they may chance to be constituted. The
mere collection and elaboration of the external and visible elements cannot sati
sfy us either. On the contrary, something higher is necessary, namely, to recogn
ise the meaning, the truth, and the connection with truth ; in short, to get to
know what is rational in them. They are human beings who have hit upon such reli
gions, therefore there must be reason in them, and amidst all that is accidental
in them a higher necessity. We must do them this justice, for what is human, ra
tional in them, is. our own too, although it exists in our higher consciousness
as a moment only. To get a grasp of the history of religions in this sense, mean
s to reconcile ourselves even with what is horrible, dreadful, or absurd in them
, and to justify it. We are on no account to regard it as right or true, as it p
resents itself in its purely immediate form there is no question of doing this b
ut we are at least to recognise its beginning, the source from which it has orig
inated as being in human nature. Such is the reconciliation with this entire sph
ere, the reconciliation which completes itself in the notion. Religions, as they
follow upon one another, are determined by means of the notion. Their nature an
d succession are not determined from without; on the contrary, they are determin
ed by the nature of Spirit which has entered into the world to bring itself to c
onsciousness of itself. Since we look at these definite religions in accordance
with the notion, this is a purely philosophical study of what actually is or exi
sts. Philosophy indeed treats of nothing which is not and does not concern itsel
f with what is so powerless as not even to have the energy to force itself into
existence.
Now in development as such, in so far as it has not as yet reached its goal, the
moments of the notion are still in a state of separation or mutual exclusion, s
o that the reality has not as yet come to be equal to the notion or conception.
The finite religions are the appearance in history of these moments. In order to
grasp these in their truth, it is necessary to consider them under two aspects
; on the one hand, we have to consider how God is known, how He is characterised
; and on the other, how the subject at the same time knows itself. For the two
aspects the objective and subjective have but one foundation for their further d
etermination, and but one specific character pervades them both. The idea which
a man has of God corresponds with that which he has of himself, of his freedom.
Knowing himself in God, he at the same time knows his imperishable life in God ;
he knows of the truth of his Being, and therefore the idea of the immortality o
f the soul here enters as an essential moment into the history of religion. The
ideas of God and of immortality have a necessary relation to each other ; when a
man knows truly about God, he knows truly about himself too : the two sides cor
respond with each other. At first God is something quite undetermined ; but in t
he course of the development of the human mind, the consciousness of that which
God is gradually forms and matures itself, losing more and more of its initial i
ndefiniteness, and with this the development of true se(/-consciousness advances
also. The Proofs of the Existence of God fall to be included also within the sp
here of this ' progressive development, it being their aim to set forth the nece
ssary elevation of the spirit to God. For the diversity of the characteristics w
hich in this process of elevation are attributed to God, is fixed by the diversi
ty of the points of departure, and this diversity again has its foundation in th
e nature of the historical stage of actual self-consciousness which has been rea
ched. The different forms which this elevation of the spirit takes will always i
ndicate the metaphysical spirit of the period in question, for this corresponds
with the prevalent idea of God and the sphere of worship. If we now attempt to i
ndicate in a more precise way the divisions of this stage of definite religion,
we find that what is of primary importance here is the manner of the divine mani
festation. God is manifestation, not in a general sense merely, but as being Spi
rit He determines Himself as appearing to Himself; that is to say, He is not Obj
ect in the general sense, but is Object to Himself. I. As for manifestation gene
rally, or abstract manifestation, it is Nature in general. Manifestation is Bein
g for Other, an externalisation of things mutually distinct, and one, in fact, w
hich is immediate and not yet reflected into itself. This logical determination
is taken here in its concrete sense as the natural world. What is for an " Other
," exists for this very reason in a sensuous form. The thought, which is for ano
ther thought, which, as having Being, is to be posited as distinct, that is to s
ay, as something which exists as an independent subject in reference to the othe
r, is only capable of being communicated by the one to the other through the sen
suous medium of sign or speech, in fact, by bodily means.
But since God exists essentially only as appearing to Himself, that abstract att
itude of man to nature does not belong to religion ; on the contrary, in religio
n nature is only a moment of the Divine, and therefore must, as it exists for th
e religious consciousness, have also the characteristic note of the spiritual mo
de of existence in it. It thus does not remain in its pure, natural element, but
receives the characteristic quality of the Divine which dwells in it. It cannot
be said of any religion that in it ; men have worshipped the sun, the sea, or n
ature ; when they worship these objects, the latter no longer have for the worsh
ippers the prosaic character which they have for ourselves. Even while these obj
ects are for them divine, they still, it is true, remain natural ; but when they
become objects of religion, they at once assume a spiritual aspect. The contemp
lation of the sun, the stars, &c., as individual natural phenomena, is outside t
he sphere of religion. The so-called prosaic manner of looking at nature, as the
latter exists for consciousness when regarding it through the understanding, be
tokens a separation which comes later ; its presence is consequent on much deepe
r and more thorough-going reflection. Not till the spirit or mind has posited it
self independently for itself, and as free from nature, does the latter appear t
o it as an Other, as something external.
The first mode of manifestation then, in the form of / Nature namely, has the su
bjectivity, the spiritual nature of God as its centre in a general sense only, a
nd consequently these two determinations have not as yet come into relation thro
ugh reflection. When this takes place, it constitutes the second mode of manifes
tation.
. In Himself or potentially God is Spirit ; this is our notion or conception of
Him. But for this very reason He must be posited too as Spirit, and this means t
hat the manner of His manifestation must be itself a spiritual one, and conseque
ntly the negation of the natural. And for this it is necessary that His determin
ateness, the Idea on the side of reality, be equal to the conception ; and the r
elation of reality to the divine conception is complete when Spirit exists as Sp
irit ; that is to say, when both the conception and reality exist as this Spirit
. To begin with, however, we see that the form of nature constitutes that determ
inateness of the conception of God, or the aspect of reality belonging to the Id
ea. The emergence of the spiritual element of subjectivity out of nature, accord
ingly appears at first merely as a conflict between the two sides, which are sti
ll entangled with one another in that conflict. Therefore this stage of definite
religion too remains in the sphere of what is natural, and in fact constitutes,
in common with the preceding one, the stage of the Religion of Nature.
. It is actually within the definite religions as they succeed each other that S
pirit in its movement attempts to make the determinateuess correspond with the n
otion or conception, but this determinateness appears here as still abstract, or
, to put it otherwise, the notion appears as still the finite notion. These atte
mpts, in which the principle of the preceding stages, namely, Essence, or essent
ial Being, strives to grasp itself together into infinite inwardness are: I. the
Jewish religion; . the Greek ; . the Koman. The God of the Jews is Oneness or s
oleness, which as such continues to be abstract unity, and is not as yet concret
e in itself. This God is indeed God in the Spirit, but does not exist as yet as
Spirit. He is something not presented to sense, an abstraction of Thought, which
has not as yet that fulness in itself which constitutes it Spirit. The freedom
which the notion seeks to reach through self-development in the Greek religion,
still lives under the sway of the sceptre of necessity of Essence ; and the noti
on as it appears in and seeks to win its independence in the Roman religion is s
till limited, since it is related to an external world which stands opposite to
it, in which it is only to be objective, and is, therefore, external adaptation
to an end, or external utility.
These are .the principal specific forms which here present themselves as the mod
es of the Eeality of Spirit. As determinate they are inadequate to the notion or
conception of Spirit, and are finite in character, and this infinitude, namely,
that there is one God, this abstract affirmation, is finite also. This determin
ation of the manifestation of God in consciousness as pure ideality of the One,
as abolition of the manifold character of external manifestation, might perhaps
be contrasted, as being that which is true, with the religion of nature, but it
is really only one form of determinateness as against the totality of the notion
of Spirit. It corresponds with this totality just as little as its opposite doe
s. These definite religions are not in fact as yet the true religion, and in the
m God is not as yet known in His true nature, since there is wanting to them the
absolute content of Spirit. Manifestation, development, and determination or sp
ecification do not go on ad infinitum, and do not cease accidentally. True progr
ess consists rather in this, that this reflexion of the notion into itself stops
short, inasmuch as it really returns into itself. Thus manifestation is itself
infinite in nature ; the content is in accordance with the conception of Spirit,
and the manifestation is, like Spirit, in and for itself. The notion or concept
ion of religion has in religion become objective to itself. Spirit, which is in
and for itself, has now no longer individual forms, determinations of itself, be
fore it, as it unfolds itself. It knows itself no longer as Spirit in any defini
te form or limitation, but has now overcome those limitations, this finiteness,
and is actually, what it is potentially. This knowledge of Spirit for itself or
actually, as it is in itself or potentially, is the being in-and-for-itself of S
pirit as exercising knowledge, the perfect, absolute religion, in which it is re
vealed what Spirit, what God is ; this is the Christian religion.
That Spirit, as it does in all else, must in religion also run through its natur
al course, is necessarily bound up with the conception of Spirit. Spirit is only
Spirit when it exists for itself as the negation of all finite forms, as this a
bsolute ideality.
I form ideas, I have perceptions, and here there is a certain definite content,
as, for instance, this house, and so on. They are my perceptions, they present t
hemselves to ine ; I could not, however, present them to myself if I did not gra
sp this particular content in myself, and if I had not posited it in a simple, i
deal manner in myself. Ideality means that this definite external existence, the
se conditions of space, of time, and matter, this separateness of parts, is done
away with in something higher ; in that I know this external existence, these f
orms of it are not ideas which are mutually exclusive, but are comprehended, gra
sped together in me in a simple manner.
Spirit is knowledge ; but in order that knowledge should exist, it is necessary
that the content of that which it knows should have attained to this ideal form,
and should in this way have been negated. What Spirit is must in that way have
become its own, it must have described this circle ; and these forms, difference
s, determinations, finite qualities, must have existed in order that it should m
ake them its own.
This represents both the way and the goal that Spirit should have attained to it
s own notion or conception, to that which it implicitly is, and in this way only
, the way which has been indicated in its abstract moments, does it attain it. E
evealed religion is manifested religion, because in it God has become wholly man
ifest. Here all is proportionate to the notion ; there is no longer anything sec
ret in God. Here, then, is the consciousness of the developed conception of Spir
it, of reconciliation, not in beauty, in joyousness, but in the Spirit. Eevealed
religion, which was hitherto still veiled, and did not exist in its truth, came
 at its own time. This was not a chance time, dependent on some one's liking or
caprice, but determined on in the essential, eternal counsel of God ; that is, i
n the eternal reason, wisdom of God ; it is the notion of the reality or fact it
self, the divine notion, the notion of God Himself, which determines itself to e
nter on this development, and has set its goal before it.
This course thus followed by religion is the true theodicy ; it exhibits all pro
ducts of Spirit, every form of its self-knowledge, as necessary, because Spirit
is something living, working, and its impulse is to press on through the series
of its manifestations towards the consciousness of itself as embracing all truth
.

THE CONCEPTION OF RELIGION

PART I
WHAT we have to commence with is the question, How ' is a beginning to be made ?
It is at least a formal demand of all science, and of philosophy in particular,
that nothing should find a place in it which has not been proved. To prove, in
the superficial sense, means that a content, a proposition, or a conception is e
xhibited as resulting from something that has preceded it.
But when a beginning has to be made, nothing has as yet been proved ; for we are
not yet in the region of result, of what is mediated, or established by means o
f something else. In dealing with a beginning, we have to do with the immediate.
Other sciences have an easy part in this respect, their object being something
actually given for them. Thus in geometry, for example, a beginning has been mad
e, for there is a space, or a point. Here there is no question of proving the ob
ject, for its existence is directly granted.
It is not allowable in philosophy to make a beginning with "There is, there are,
" for in philosophy the object! must not be presupposed. This may constitute a d
ifficulty in regard to philosophy in general. But in the present case we do not
begin at the point where philosophy has its fountainhead. The science of religio
n is a science within philosophy ; it assumes, so far, the existence of the othe
r divisions of philosophical study, and it is thus a result. From the philosophi
cal point of view we are here already in possession of a result flowing from pre
mises previously established, which now lie behind us. We may, nevertheless, tur
n for aid to our ordinary consciousness, accept data assumed in a subjective way
, and make a beginning from there.
The beginning of religion is, similarly with its general content, the as yet und
eveloped conception of religion itself ; namely, that God is the absolute Truth,
the Truth of everything, and that religion alone is absolutely true knowledge.
We have thus to begin by treating GOD.
For us who are already in possession of religion, what God is, is something we a
re familiar with a substantial truth which is present in our subjective consciou
sness. But scientifically considered, God is at first a general, abstract name,
which as yet has not come to have any true value. For it is the Philosophy of Re
ligion which is the unfolding, the apprehension of that which God is, and it is
only by means of it that our philosophical knowledge of His nature is reached. G
od is this wellknown and familiar idea an idea, however, which has not yet been
scientifically developed, scientifically known.
Having thus referred to this development, which has its justification in philoso
phical science itself, we shall, to begin with, accept as a simple statement of
fact the assertion that the result of philosophy is that God is the absolutely T
rue, the Universal in and for itself, the Allcomprehending, All-containing, that
from which everything derives subsistence. And in regard to this assertion we m
ay also appeal in the first place to religious consciousness, where we find the
conviction that God is indeed the absolutely True, from which all proceeds, and
into which all returns, upon which 'all is dependent, and beside which nothing h
as absolute true self-sustained existence. This, then, is what constitutes the b
eginning.
This beginning is, scientifically, still abstract. The heart may be ever so full
of this idea, still in science it is not with what is in the heart that we have
to do, but with what is definitely considered as object for consciousness, and
more strictly for thinking consciousness which has attained to the form of thoug
ht. To give this fulness the form of thought, of the Notion, is the special work
of the Philosophy of Religion.
a. The beginning as abstract, as the first content, Universality namely, has thu
s, as it were, as yet a subjective standing, implying that the Universal is univ
ersal for the beginning only, and does not continue in this condition of univers
ality. The beginning of the content is itself to be conceived of in such a way t
hat, while in all further developments of this content, this Universal will show
itself to be absolutely concrete, rich in matter, and full of content, we at th
e same time da not pass beyond this universality ; that this universality, thoug
h in a sense we leave it behind so far as the form is concerned, inasmuch as it
undergoes a definite development, nevertheless maintains its position as the abs
olute, permanent foundation, and is not to be taken as a mere subjective beginni
ng.
In so far as He is the Universal, God is for us from the point of view of develo
pment, what is shut up within itself, what is in absolute unity with itself. If
we say God is that which is shut up within itself, in using such an expression w
e are thinking of a development which we expect to take place ; but the undevelo
ped condition which we have called the Universality of God, is not in regard to
the content itself to be taken as an abstract Universality, outside of which, an
d as opposed to which, the particular has an independent existence.
This Universality is thus to be understood as the absolutely full, filled up uni
versality, and when we thus say that God is universal, concrete, full of content
, we imply that God is One only, and not one as contrasted with many Gods, but t
hat there is only the One, that is, God.
Existing things, the developments of the natural and spiritual world, take manif
old forms, and have an infinite variety ; they have a being which differs in deg
ree, force, strength, content ; but the being of all these things is not indepen
dent, but is supported by, dependent on, something else, and has . no true indep
endence. If we attribute a being to particular things, it is only a borrowed bei
ng, only the semblance of a being, not the absolute self-sustained Being, which
is God.
God in His universality, this Universal, in which there is no limitation, no fin
iteness, no particularity, is the absolute Self-subsisting Being, and the only S
elf-subsisting Being; and what subsists has its root, its subsistence, in this O
ne alone.
If the substantial element in this its first form is understood in this sense, w
e may express ourselves thus : God is the absolute Substance, the only true real
ity. All else, which is real, is not real in itself, has no real existence of it
self ; the one absolute reality is God alone, and thus He is the absolute Substa
nce.
If this conception is held to in this abstract fashion, it is undoubtedly Spinoz
ism. Substantiality, Substance as such, is as yet not at all differentiated from
subjectivity. But the following thought also forms part of the presupposition t
hus made. God is Spirit, the Absolute \ Spirit, the eternally undifferentiated S
pirit, essentially at home with Himself; this ideality, this subjectivity of Spi
rit, which is, so to speak, transparency, pure ideality excluding all that is pa
rticular, is just the Universality spoken of above, that pure relation to self,
what is and remains absolutely at home with itself.
If we use the expression " Substance," it is implied that this Universal is not
yet conceived of as concrete in itself: when it is so conceived of, it is Spirit
; and Spirit too always is" this unity with itself, even in its concrete inner d
etermination this One Reality, which we just now called Substance. A further cha
racteristic is that the substantiality, the unity of the absolute reality with i
tself, is only the foundation, one moment in the determination of God as Spirit.
The disparagement of philosophy is connected mainly with this way of looking at
the question. You hear it said that philosophy must be Spinozism if it is consi
stent, and that thus it is atheism, fatalism.
But at the beginning we have not as yet characteristics which are distinguished,
as One and Another ; at the beginning we are on]y concerned with the One, not w
ith the Other.
In starting from here we have the content as yet in the form of substantiality.
Even when we say, " God, Spirit," these are indefinite words or general ideas. E
verything depends upon what has entered into consciousness. At first it is the S
imple, the Abstract, that enters into consciousness. In this first simplicity, w
e still have God in the character of Universality, but we do not remain at this
standpoint.
Still, this content continues to be the foundation ; in all further development,
God never comes out of His unity with Himself. When He, as it is commonly expre
ssed, creates the world, there does not come into existence something evil, Anot
her, which is self-sustained, and independent.
b. This beginning is an object for us or content in us ; we have this object ; a
nd thus the question immediately arises, Who are we ? " We," " I," the spirit is
itself something very concrete, manifold. I have perceptions, I am, I see, hear
, &c., all this I am ; this feeling, this seeing. Thus the more precise meaning
of this question is, which of these forms of consciousness determines the shape
in which this content exists for our minds ? Is it found in idea, will, imaginat
ion, or feeling ? What is the place, where this content, this object has its hom
e ? Which of all these supplies the basis of this mental possession ?
If we think of the current answers in regard to this, we find it said that God i
s in us in so far as we believe, feel, form ideas, know. These forms, faculties,
aspects of ourselves, namely, feeling, faith, ordinary conception, are to be mo
re particularly considered further on, and especially in relation to this very p
oint. For the present we postpone the search for any reply, nor do we betake our
selves to what we know by experience, observation, namely that we have God in ou
r feeling, c. To begin with, we shall keep to what we have actually before us, t
his One, Universal, this Fulness, which is this ever unchangeable transparent et
hereal element.
If in considering this One we ask, For which of our faculties or mental activiti
es does this One, this pure Universal, exist ? we can only point to the correspo
nding activity of our mind, the faculty which answers to it, as the soil or subs
tratum in which this content has its home. This is Thought.
Thought alone is the substratum of this content. Thought is the activity of the
Universal ; it is the Universal in its activity, or operation ; or if we express
 it as the comprehension of the Universal, then that^ for which the Universal is
, is still Thought.
This Universal, which can be produced by Thought, and which is for Thought, may
be quite abstract ; it is then the Immeasurable, the Infinite, the removal of al
l limit, of all particularity. This Universal, which is to begin with negative,
has its seat in Thought only.
To think of God means to rise above what is sensuous, external, and individual.
It means to rise up to what is pure, to lhat which is on unity_jyith itself ; it
is a going forth above and beyond the sensuous, beyond what belongs to the sphe
re of the senses, into the pure region of the Universal. And this region is Thou
ght.
Such, so far as the subjective side is concerned, is the substratum for this con
tent. The content is this absolutely undivided, continuous, self-sufficing One,
the Universal ; and Thought is the mode of mind for which this Universal exists.

Thus we have a distinction between Thought and the Universal which we at first c
alled God; it is a distinction which in the first place belongs only to our refl
ection, and which is as yet by no means included in the content on its own accou
nt. It is the result of philosophy, as it is already the belief of religion, tha
t God is the One true Eeality, and that there is no other reality whatsoever. In
this One Eeality and pure clearness, the reality and the distinction which we c
all thinking, have as yet no place.
What we have before us is this One Absolute : we cannot as yet call this content
, this determination, religion; for to religion belongs subjective spirit, consc
iousness. This Universal has its place in Thought, but its localisation in Thoug
ht is, to begin with, absorbed in this One, this Eternal, this absolute existenc
e.
In this true, absolute, determination, which is only not as yet developed, perfe
cted, God remains through all development absolute Substance.
This Universal is the starting-point and point of departure, but it is this abso
lutely abiding Unity, and not a mere basis out of which differences spring, the
truth rather being that all differences are here enclosed within this Universal.
It is, however, no inert, abstract Universal, but the absolute womb, the eterna
l impetus and source from which everything proceeds, to which everything returns
, and in which everything is eternally preserved.
Thus the Universal never goes out of this ethereal element of likeness with itse
lf, out of this state in which it is together with or at home with itself. It is
not possible that God, as this Universal, can actually exist along with another
whose existence is anything more than the mere play of appearance or semblance
of existence. In relation to this pure Unity and pure transparency, matter is no
thing impenetrable, nor has the spirit, the " I," such exclusiveness as to posse
ss true substantiality of its own.
c. There has been a tendency to call this idea by the name Pantheism ; it would
be more correctly designated, " the idea of substantiality." God is here charact
erised at first as substance only ; the absolute Subject, too, Spirit, remains s
ubstance ; Spirit is not however substance only, but is also self-determined as
Subject. Those who say that speculative philosophy is Pantheism, generally know
nothing of this distinction ; they overlook the main point, as they always do, a
nd they disparage philosophy by representing it as different from what it really
is.
Pantheism, with those who bring this charge against philosophy, has usually been
taken to mean that everything, the All, the Uhiversum, this complex collection
of all that exists, those infinitely many finite things are God, and philosophy
is accused of maintaining that All is God that is, this infinite manifoldness of
single things ; not the Universality which has essential being, but the individ
ual things in their empirical existence, as they are immediately.
If it be said, God is all this here, this paper, &c., then that is certainly Pan
theism, as understood by those who by way of reproach bring forward the objectio
n to which reference has been made, their meaning being that God is everything,
all individual things. If I say " species," that too is a universality, but of q
uite another kind than Totality, in which the Universal is thought of only as th
at which comprehends all individual existences, and as that which has Being, tha
t which lies at the foundation of all things, the true content of all individual
things.
Pantheism of this kind is not to be found in any religion, and the statement tha
t it is so discoverable is wholly false. It has never occurred to any man to say
, all is God that is, things in their individuality or contingency much less has
it been maintained in any philosophy.
With oriental pantheism, or more correctly Spinozism, we shall make acquaintance
later on, under the head of definite religion. Spinozism itself as such, and or
iental pantheism, too, contain the thought that in everything the divine is only
the universal element of a content, the Essence of things, while at the same ti
me it is also represented as being the determined or specific Essence of the thi
ngs.
When Brahm says, " I am the brightness, the shining element in metals, the Gange
s among rivers, the life in all that lives, &c.," what is individual is done awa
y with and absorbed. Brahm does not say, "I a in the metal, the rivers, the indi
vidual things of each kind by themselves, as such, as they exist immediately."
The brightness is not the metal itself, but is the Universal, the Substantial, e
levated above any individual form ; it is no longer TO TTO.V, everything as indi
vidual. What is expressed here is no longer what is called pantheism ; the idea
expressed is rather that of the Essence in such individual things.
All that has life is characterised by the note of time and space ; it is, howeve
r, only on the imperishable element in this singularity that stress is laid. " T
he life of all that lives " is, in that imperishable sphere of life, the Unlimit
ed, the Universal. When, however, it is said that everything is God, the singula
rity is under^ stood in accordance with all its limits, its finiteness, its peri
shableness. The origin of this idea of pantheism is to be found in the fact that
stress is laid on the abstract, not on the spiritual unity ; and then, when the
idea takes its religious form, where only the substance, the One, ranks as true
reality, those who hold these opinions forget that it is just in presence of th
is One that the individual finite things disappear, and have no reality ascribed
to them, and yet they attempt to retain this reality in a material way alongsid
e of the One. They do not believe the Eleatics, who say, the One only exists, an
d expressly add, and what is not has no existence whatever. All that is finite w
ould be limitation, negation of the One ; but that which is not, limitation, fin
iteness, limit, and that which is limited, have no existence whatever.
Spinozism has been charged with being atheism, but the world, this All, does not
exist at all in Spinozism ; it has an outward form it is true, we speak of its
existence, and our life is to be in it as thus existing. In the philosophical se
nse, however, the world has no reality at all, has no existence. No reality is a
scribed to these individual things ; they are finite in nature, and it is plainl
y stated that they do not exist at all.
Spinozism has been universally charged with leading to the following conclusions
: If all be One, then this philosophy maintains that good is one with evil, and
that there is no difference between good and evil, and with this all religion i
s done away with. You hear it asserted that if the distinction of good and evil
is not valid in itself, then it is a inatter of indifference whether a man be go
od or bad. It may, indeed, be conceded that the distinction between good and evi
l is done away with potentially, that is, in God, who is alone the true Keality.
In God there is no evil ; the distinction between good and evil could exist onl
y if God were Evil; no one, however, would concede that evil is something affirm
ative, and that this affirmative is in God. God is good, and good alone ; the di
stinction between evil and good is not present in this One, in this Substance ;
it is with the element of distinction, or differentiation, that it first enters
at all.
God is the One absolutely self-sufficing Being ; in substance there is no distin
ction, no element of difference. With the distinction of God from the world, and
especially from man, there first appears the distinction between good and evil.
It is a fundamental principle of Spinozism, with regard to this distinction bet
ween God and man, that man must have God alone as his chief end. And thus the lo
ve of God is law for the element of difference, that is to say, for man ; this l
ove to God is alone to be his guide ; he is not to ascribe value to his separate
existence, to his difference in itself, not to desire to continue in it, but to
direct his entire thought towards God alone.
This is the most sublime morality, that evil is nonexistent, and that man is not
to allow to this distinction, this nullity, any valid existence. Man may wish t
o persist in this difference, to carry this separation on into a settled opposit
ion to God the essentially existing Universal and then man is evil. But it is al
so possible for him to regard his difference as non-existent, to place his true
being in God alone, and direct his aim toward God and then man is good.
In Spinozism, the distinction between good and evil undoubtedly makes its appear
ance with reference to God and man and it appears in it with this qualification,
that evil is to be regarded as non-existent. In God as such, in His character a
s Substance, there is no distinction ; it is for man that this distinction exist
s, as does also the distinction between good and evil.
In accordance with that superficiality with which the polemic against philosophy
is carried on, it is added, moreover, that philosophy is a system of Identity.
It is quite correct to say that Substance is this one selfidentity, but Spirit i
s just as much this self-identity. Everything is ultimately identity, unity with
itself. But those who speak of the philosophy of Identity mean abstract Identit
y, unity in general, and pay no attention to that upon which alone all depends;
namely, the essential nature of this unity, and whether it is denned as Substanc
e or as Spirit. The whole of philosophy is nothing else than a study of the natu
re of different kinds of unity ; the Philosophy of Religion, too, is a successio
n of unities ; it is always unity, yet a unity which is always further defined a
nd made more specific.
In the physical world there are many kinds of unity : when water and earth are b
rought together, this is a unity, but it is a mixture. If I bring together a bas
e and an acid and a salt, a crystal is the result. I have water too, but I canno
t see it, and there is not the slightest moisture. The unity of the water with t
his material is, therefore, a unity of quite a different character from that in
which water and earth are mingled. What is of importance, is the difference in t
he character of the unity. The Unity of God is always Unity, but everything depe
nds upon the particular nature of this Unity ; this point being disregarded, tha
t upon which everything depends is overlooked.
What we have first is this divine Universality Spirit in its entirely undetermin
ed Universality for which there exists absolutely no element of difference. But
upon this absolute foundation (and this we state for the moment as fact) there n
ow appears that element of distinction which, in its spiritual character, is con
sciousness, and it is with this distinction that religion, as such, begins. When
the absolute Universality advances to the stage of judgment, that is to say, wh
en it proceeds to posit itself as determinateness, and God exists as Spirit for
Spirit, we have reached the standpoint from which God is regarded as the object
of consciousness, and Thought, which at the beginning was universal, is seen to
have entered into the condition of relation and differentiation.

B. THE RELIGIOUS ATTITUDE.

In the doctrine of God we have God before us as object, simply by Himself. The r
elation of God to man, it is true, has a place in it as well ; and while, accord
ing to the prevailing ideas of earlier times, this relation did not appear to fo
rm an essential part of the doctrine, modern theology, on the other hand, treats
more of religion than of God. All that is required of man is that he should be
religious ; this is the main point, and it is even regarded as a matter of indif
ference whether a man knows anything of God or not; or it is held that religion
is something entirely subjective, and that man has really no knowledge of the na
ture of God. In the Middle Ages, on the contrary, it was the essential Being of
God that was principally considered and defined. We have to recognise the truth
which is involved in the modern view, namely, that God is not to be considered a
part from the subjective spirit ; this, however, not on the ground that God is a
n Unknown, but because God is essentially Spirit, exists as Spirit which knows.
We have here thus a relation of Spirit to Spirit. This relation of Spirit with S
pirit lies at the foundation of religion.
If, accordingly, we should consider ourselves as exempted from the necessity of
beginning with the proof of the existence of God, it would still remain for us t
o prove that religion exists, and that it is necessary; for philosophy cannot as
sume its object as given.
It might, indeed, be said that such proof is needless, and it might be asserted
in support of this that all peoples are religious. But this is only of the natur
e of an assumption, and the expression " all " at once involves us in certain di
fficulties. For there are peoples of whom it can scarcely be said that they have
a religion ; their Highest, which they worship in a way, is the sun, the moon,
or whatever else may strike them as remarkable in material nature. We have besid
es, the phenomenon of a very "advanced" form "of culture which denies the Being
of God altogether, at the same time denying that religion is the truest expressi
on of the Spirit. Thinkers of this extreme sort have even seriously maintained t
hat priests, in instilling a religion into men, are no better than deceivers, th
eir sole object being to make men subject to themselves.
A further attempt which has been made to prove the necessity of religion does no
t get beyond establishing an external conditional necessity, in which religion i
s made a means, and something practised with a definite end in view. But religio
n is thereby degraded to the condition of something contingent, which has not va
lue on its own account, but may either be discarded by me or made use of by me f
or some definite purpose. The true view, which represents the real state of the
case and the false one, are here very close together, and the obliquity or error
in the latter appears to be only a slight displacement, so to speak, of the for
mer.
Both in ancient and modern times you find the idea given expression to, that a t
own, state, family, or individual has been doomed to destruction because they de
spised the gods ; that adoration of the gods, on the other hand, and reverence t
owards them preserve states, and make them prosperous ; and that the happiness a
nd advancement of individuals are furthered by their being religious.
Undoubtedly it is only when religion is made the foundation that the practice of
righteousness attains stability, and that the fulfilment of duty is secured. It
is in religion that what is deepest in man, the conscience, first feels that it
lies under an absolute obligation, and has the certain knowledge of this obliga
tion ; therefore the State must rest on religion, for it is in religion we first
have any absolute certainty and security as regards the dispositions of men, an
d duties they owe to the State. Prom every other kind of obligation it is possib
le to find a way of escape by means of excuses, exceptions, or counter reasons.
Obligations other than the religious one may be evaded by disparaging the laws a
nd regulations of the state, or by belittleing the individuals who govern and wh
o are in authority, and by regarding them from a point of view from which they a
re no longer necessarily objects of respect. For all these particular obligation
s have not only an essential existence as law, but have at the same time a finit
e existence in the present. They are so constituted as to invite the investigati
on of reflection, and to allow it either to find fault with or to justify them,
and they thus awaken the criticism of the individual, who can in turn grant hims
elf a dispensation from them. It is only religion which suppresses all this subj
ective criticism and weighing of reasons, annihilates it, and brings in this inf
inite, absolute obligation of which we have spoken. In short, reverence for God,
or for the gods, establishes and preserves individuals, families, states ; whil
e contempt of God, or of the gods, loosens the basis of laws and duties, breaks
up the ties of the family and of the State, and leads to their destruction. Thes
e are undoubtedly considerations of the highest truth and importance, and contai
n the essential, substantial connection between religion and morality. Now if a
deduction be made from the proposition before us stating as the result of experi
ence that religion is therefore necessary, this would be au external kind of con
clusion. Possibly, however, it might only be faulty in respect of the subjective
act of apprehension, no false or misleading turn being given to the content or
matter of the assertion. If, however, the conclusion be now stated thus : " ther
efore religion is useful for the ends set before them by individuals, government
s, states," &c., then an attitude is at once taken up by which religion is treat
ed as a means. But in religion we have to do with Spirit, which is many-sided in
its activities. Even the animal organism, when attacked by any disease, though
its reaction to a remedy is determined by definite laws, is yet indifferent to m
any of its particular properties, so that a choice of remedies is possible. Stil
l more does Spirit degrade what it employs as means to a mere matter of detail.
It is then conscious of its freedom to use either one particular means or some o
ther.
Thus if religion be a means, the spirit knows that it can make use of it ; knows
, too, that it can, however, have recourse to other means. Indeed the spirit sta
nds in such a relation to religion that it may, if it likes, resolve to trust to
its own resources. Further, the spirit has the freedom of its aims its power, i
ts cunning, the control of the opinions of men ; these are all means, and just i
n the very freedom of its aims, which implies in so many words that its aims are
to be the ultimate standard, and religion is to be only a means, it has the fre
edom to make its own power and authority its object, and thus to set ends before
itself in pursuit of which it can either dispense with religion or even act in
direct opposition to its behests. The point of importance, on the contrary, is t
hat the spirit should resolve upon such aims, or should know its obligation to p
ursue such as are of value objectively in and for themselves, to the disregard o
f others which are more enticing, and at the sacrifice of particular ends in gen
eral. Objective aims demand the giving up of subjective interests, inclinations,
and ends ; and this sacrifice or negation is involved in the statement, that th
e worship of God lays the foundation of the true weilbeing of individuals, peopl
es, and states. Even though the latter be the consequence of the former, yet it
is the former which is the principal thing ; it has its own determination and de
terminateness, and it regulates the purposes and opinions of men, which as parti
cular things are not what is primary, and ought not to be allowed to determine t
hemselves. Thus a slight turn given to the position of reflection. alters and en
tirely destroys its first meaning above referred to, and makes out of the necess
ity a mere utility which, as being contingent, is capable of being perverted.
Here we are concerned, on the contrary, with the inner necessity, which exists i
n and for itself ; a necessity to which, indeed, there is no doubt that caprice
evil is able to oppose itself; but in this case this caprice belongs to a sphere
outside, attaching itself to the Ego, which, as free, is able to take its stand
on the summit of its own independent individuality. Such caprice is no longer c
onnected with the necessity of which we speak ; it is no longer the perversion o
f the very notion of necessity, as is the case so long as necessity is understoo
d merely as utility.

I. THE NECESSITY OF THE RELIGIOUS STANDPOINT.

The general necessity of the Notion accordingly develops itself in this wise. Il
eligion is (i) conceived of as result, but () as a result which at the same time
annuls itself as result, and that () it is the content itself which passes over
in itself and through itself to posit itself as result. That is objective neces
sity, and not a mere subjective process. It is not we who set the necessity in m
ovement ; on the contrary, it is the act of the content itself, or, the object m
ay be said to produce itself. Subjective deduction and intellectual movement occ
ur, for example, in geometry ; the triangle does not itself go through the proce
ss that we follow out in the intellectual act of demonstration.
Religiou, however, as something essentially spiritual, is by its very existence
itself this process and this transition. In the case of natural things, as, for
example, the sun, we are in presence of an immediate existence at rest, and in t
he mental picture or idea we form of it there is no consciousness of an act of p
assing over, or transition. The religious consciousness, on the other hand, is i
n its very essence the parting from and forsaking of what is immediate, what is
finite ; it is a passing over to the intellectual, or, objectively defined, the
gathering up of what is perishable into its absolute substantial essence. Religi
on is the consciousness of what is in and for itself true, in contrast to sensuo
us, finite truth, and to sense perceptions. Accordingly, it is a rising above, a
reflecting upon, a transition from what is immediate, sensuous, individual (for
the immediate is what is first, and therefore is not exaltation), and is thus a
going out and on to an Other. This does not mean, however, a going on to a Thir
d, and so on, for in that case the Other would be itself again something finite,
and not an Other. Consequently it is a progress onward to a Second, but of such
a kind that this progress, this production of a Second, annuls and absorbs itse
lf, and this Second is rather the First, that which is truly unmediated and unpo
sited or independent. The standpoint of religion shows itself in this transition
as the standpoint of truth, in which the whole wealth of the natural and spirit
ual world is contained. Every other manner in which this wealth of being exists
must prove itself to be, in comparison, an external, arid, miserable, self-contr
adictory, and destructive mode of reality which involves the ending of truth, an
d has in it the note of untruth, a mode of reality which only returns to its fou
ndation and its source as the standpoint of religion. By this demonstration, the
n, it is made clearly apparent that Spirit cannot stop short at any of these sta
ges, nor can it remain there, and that it is only religion which is the true rea
lity or actuality of selfconsciousness.
So far as the proof of this necessity is concerned, the following remarks may be
sufficient.
When it has to be shown in regard to anything that it is necessary, it is implie
d that we start from something else, from an Other. What is here the Other of th
e true divine existence is non-divine existence, the finite world, finite consci
ousness. Now if we are to begin from this as the immediate, the finite, the untr
ue, and in fact as an object of our knowledge, and as immediately apprehended by
us in its definite qualitative existence, if we begin in this manner from what i
s First, we find that it shows itself, as we proceed, not to be what it directly
presents itself as being, but is seen to be something which destroys itself, wh
ich appears as becoming, as moving on to something else. Therefore it is not our
reflection and study of the subject, our judgment, which tells us that the fini
te with which we begin is founded on something that is true. It is not we who br
ing forward its foundation. On the contrary, the movement of the finite itself s
hows that it loses itself in something other, in something higher than itself. W
e follow the object as it returns of itself to the fountain of its true being.
Now, while the object which forms the starting-point perishes in this, its true
Source, and sacrifices itself, this does not mean that it has vanished in this p
rocess. Its content is, on the contrary, posited in its ideal character. We have
an example of this absorption and ideality in consciousness. I relate myself to
an object, and then contemplate it as it is. The object, which I at once distin
guish from myself, is independent ; I have not made it, it did not wait for me i
n order to exist, and it remains although I go away from it. Both, I and the obj
ect, are therefore two independent things, but consciousness is at the same time
the relation of these two independent things to each other, a relation in which
they appear as one. In that I have knowledge of the object, these two, I and th
e Other, exist for me in this my simple determinate character. If we rightly gra
sp what takes place here, we have not only the negative result that the oneness
and independence of the two is done away with. The annulling which takes place i
s not only empty negation, but the negation of those two things from which I sta
rted. The non-existence here is thus only the nonexistence of the independence o
f the two the non-existence in which both determinations are abrogated, yet .pre
served and ideally contained.
Should we now desire to see how in this manner the natural universe and the spir
itual universe return to their truth in the religious standpoint, the detailed c
onsideration of this return would constitute the wholecircle of the philosophica
l sciences. We should have to begin here with Nature ; it is the immediate ; Spi
rit would in that case be opposed to Nature, and both, in so far as they confron
t one other as independent, are finite.
We may here, accordingly, distinguish between two ways of considering the matter
.
In the first place, we might consider what Nature and Spirit are in themselves,
or ideally. This would show that potentially they are identical in the one Idea,
and both only reflect what is one and the same, or, we might say, that they hav
e their one root in the Idea. But this would still be an abstract way of looking
at them, being limited to what these objects are potentially, and not implying
that they are conceived of according to the Idea and reality. The distinctions w
hich essentially belong to the Idea would be left unregarded. This absolute Idea
is the element of necessity, is the essence of both Nature and Spirit, and in i
t what constitutes their difference, their limit and finiteness, drops away. The
Essence of Spirit and of Nature is one and the same, and in this identity they
are nothing more than what they are in their separation and qualitative existenc
e. It is, however, our act of knowledge which, in this way of looking at them, s
trips these two of their difference, and does away with their finiteness. It is
outside of these limited worlds that they are limited, and that their limit disa
ppears in the Idea which is their unity. This disappearance of the limit is an a
bstracting from it which takes place in our act of cognition or knowledge. We do
away with the form of its finiteness, and come to its truth. This way of concei
ving of the matter is so far rather of a .subjective kind, and that which presen
ts itself as being the truth of this finiteness is the selfexisting Idea the Sub
stance, according to Spinoza, or the Absolute, as it was conceived of by Schelli
ng.
Both natural things and the spiritual world are shown to be finite, so that what
is true is the vanishing of their limits in Absolute Substance, and the recogni
tion of the fact that this substance is the absolute identity of the two, of Sub
jective and Objective, of Thought and Being. But Substance is merely this identi
ty. The specific form and quality is taken away by us, and does not appear in Su
bstance, which is therefore rigid, cold, motionless necessity, in which knowledg
e, subjectivity, cannot find satisfaction, because it does not recognise in it i
ts own vitality and distinctions. This phenomenon is seen in all ordinary acts o
f devotion. We rise above fiuiteness, we forget it ; but yet it is not truly don
e away with simply because we have forgotten it.
The second method consists in a recognition of the necessity by which the self-a
brogation of the finite, and the positing of the Absolute, take place objectivel
y. It must be shown of Nature and Spirit that they, in accordance with their not
ion, abrogate or annul themselves, and their finiteness must not be taken from t
hem merely by a subjective removal of their limits. Here then we have the moveme
nt of thought, which is likewise the movement of the thing itself, or true reali
ty, and it is the very process of Nature and of Spirit out of which proceeds the
True.
a. We have now, therefore, to consider Nature as it really is in itself as the p
rocess of which the transition to Spirit is the ultimate truth, so that Spirit p
roves itself to be the truth of Nature. It is the essential character of Nature
to sacrifice itself, to consume itself, .so that the Psyche comes forth out of t
his burnt-offering and the Idea rises into its proper element, into its own ethe
reality. This sacrifice of Nature is its process, and it appears in a more defin
ite form as an advance through a series of graduated stages, iu which the differ
ences are present in the form of mutual exclusion. The connection is something p
urely internal. The moments, through which the Idea runs its course in the web o
r i/ garment of Nature, are a series of independent forms. Nature is the Idea po
tentially, and only potentially, and the peculiar mode of its existence is to be
outside of itself, in perfect externality. The nature of its progress is, more
chiefly speaking, this, that the Notion which is enclosed in it breaks through i
ts covering, absorbs the outer crust of its externality, idealises it, and while
rendering the coating of the crystal transparent, is itself revealed to view. T
he indwelling Notion becomes ex-> ternal, or conversely, Nature immerses itself
in itself, and what is external constitutes itself a mode of the Notion. Thus an
externality comes into view which is itself ideal, and is held in the unity of
the Notion. This is the truth of Nature, namely, Consciousness. In consciousness
I am the Notion ; and tliat which is for me, of which I have a consciousness, i
s, in short, my existence. In nature, what exists is not consciously known ; it
is merely something that is external, and it is Spirit which first knows the ext
ernality and posits it as identical with itself. In sensation, which is the culm
inating point and the end of Nature, an independent existence, a being for self,
is already inherent, so that the definite character, which a thing has, is at t
he same time ideal, and is taken back into the Subject. The qualities of a stone
are mutually exclusive, and the notion or conception we form of it is not in th
e stone. In sensation, on the other hand, external qualities do not exist as suc
h, but are reflected into themselves, and here Soul, subjectivity, begins. And n
ow the identity, which as "ravitation is only impulse and a striving after somet
iling which ought to be, has come into existence. In gravitation there is always
an element of mutual exclusion still remaining, the different points repel one
another, and this one point, namely, sensation the being in self does not come f
orward into existence. But the whole force and life of Nature is ever pressing o
n towards sensation and towards Spirit. While, however, in this progress Spirit
appears as necessary through Nature, and as mediated through Nature, yet this me
diation is of such a kind that it at once abrogates itself. What proceeds out of
the mediation shows itself as the foundation and the truth of that out of which
it has proceeded. To philosophical knowledge the advance is a stream going in o
pposite directions, leading forward to what is Other than itself, but at the sam
e time working backwards in such a way that that which appears as the last, as f
ounded on what precedes, shows itself rather to be the first the foundation.
&. Spirit itself is, to begin with, immediate ; it is in the process of coming t
o itself that it becomes for itself, or self-conscious, and it is its very life
to become for itself, or self-conscious, by means of itself. In this process it
is essential to distinguish between two aspects presented by Spirit; first, what
Spirit is in and for itself, and, secondly, its finiteness. First of all, Spiri
t is without relation, ideal, enclosed in the Idea ; in its second aspect, Spiri
t in its finiteness is consciousness, and since what is Other than itself exists
for it, stands in an attitude of relation. Nature is only appearance ; it is wh
en we think and reflect that Nature is for us Idea ; therefore this which is its
own transfiguration, that is, Spirit, is something found outside of it. The ess
ential nature of Spirit consists, on the contrary, in this, that the Idea lies i
n Spirit itself, and that the Absolute, that which is true in and for itself, ex
ists for Spirit. In its immediacy Spirit is still finite, and this finiteness is
characterised by the fact that in the first place what it is in and for itself,
or essentially, is distinguished from that which is present to its consciousnes
s. But its essential nature and its infinitude consist in this, that its conscio
usness and its Idea absolutely correspond. This perfecting of Spirit, and this e
ffacing of the differences of that relation, may be conceived of in accordance w
ith the twofold aspect of its essential existence and of its actual consciousnes
s. At first the two are distinguished ; what it is essentially does not exist fo
r consciousness, and this its essential existence still wears for Spirit an aspe
ct of otherness or strangeness. But the two stand in a relation of reciprocity,
so that the advance of the one is at the same time the perfecting of the other.
In the " Phenomenology of Spirit," Spirit is considered in its phenomenal existe
nce as consciousness, and the necessity of its advance till it reaches the absol
ute standpoint is demonstrated. The forms assumed by Spirit, the stages which it
produces, are there treated of as they present themselves in its consciousness.
What, however. Spirit knows, what Spirit as consciousness is, is one thing ; th
e necessary nature of that which Spirit knows, and which exists for Spirit, is a
nother. The former, namely the fact that its world exists for Spirit, is, as the
word implies, a mere fact of existence, and appears therefore as contingent. Th
e latter, the necessity, namely, by which this world has arisen for it, does not
exist for Spirit at this stage of consciousness. So far as Spirit is concerned
it takes place secretly, it exists only for philosophical contemplation, and bel
ongs to the development of that which Spirit is according to its notion or conce
ption. In this development a stage is now reached where Spirit attains to absolu
te consciousness, at which rationality exists for it as a world ; and while on t
he other hand as consciousness it develops itself towards a consciousness of the
essential nature of the world, it is here the point is reached, where the two m
odes, which were at first different, coincide. The perfect form of consciousness
is reached when it becomes conscious of the true object, and the object, what i
s substantial, Substance, reaches its perfect or completed 'stage when it exists
for itself, that is, when it distinguishes itself from itself and has itself as
object. Consciousness forces itself on to consciousness of the Substantial, and
this latter, which is the notion of Spirit, forces itself on to phenomenal exis
tence and to a relation in which it exists as self-conscious or for itself. This
final stage, where the movement of both sides is brought into harmony, is the m
oral world, the State. Here the freedom of the Spirit, which proceeds on its way
independent as the sun, exists as a present, realised object, as a necessity an
d a concretely existing world. Here consciousness likewise attains its perfect s
tate, and each man finds himself provided in this world of the State with all he
needs, and has his freedom in it. Consciousness, or being-for-self, and the ess
ential being of Spirit have thus attained the self-same goal.
c. But this manifestation of the Divine Life is itself still in the region of fi
niteness, and the abrogation of this finiteness constitutes the religious standp
oint, where God is Object of consciousness as absolute Power and Substance into
which the whole wealth of the natural as of the spiritual world has returned. Th
e religious point of view, as representing the unfolding of the natural and spir
itual universe, shows itself in this progressive movement as the absolutely true
and primary, which has nothing lying behind it as a permanent presupposition, b
ut has absorbed everything into itself. The requirements of necessity indeed imp
ly that this entire wealth of the natural and spiritual world should bury itself
in its truth, namely, in the Universal which exists in and for itself. But this
Universal, since it is essentially determined to particularity, and as concrete
, as Idea, is essentially self-repulsion, develops particularity or determinaten
ess out of itself, and posits itself for consciousness.
The forms of this development and self-determination of the Universal are the pr
incipal moments in logic, and these likewise constitute the form of the whole ab
ovementioned sphere of being. The development of God in Himself is consequently
the same logical necessity as that of the Universe, and this latter is only in s
o far inherently divine as it is at every stage the development of this form.
To begin with, this development is, it is true, different in each case in respec
t of the matter (Stoff), since, when it proceeds in an element of pure universal
ity, it yields only Divine forms x and moments ; while in the region of finitene
ss, on the other hand, it yields finite forms l and finite spheres of existence.
Thus this matter and its forms are so far quite different, regardless of the fa
ct that the form of the necessity is the same. Further, however, these two eleme
nts (Stoffe), the development of God in Himself and the development of the Unive
rse, are not absolutely different. The Divine Idea signifies that it is the Abso
lute Subject, the truth of the universum of the natural and spiritual world, and
not merely an abstract Other. Therefore the matter is the same in both cases. I
t is the intellectual divine world, the divine life in itself, which develops it
self; but the spheres of its life are the same as those of the world life. This
latter, which is the divine life in the mode of Appearance, or phenomenal existe
nce, in the form of finiteness, is looked at in that eternal life in its eternal
form and truth, sub specie ceterni. Thus we have finite consciousness, finite w
orld, nature, that which presents itself in the phenomenal world. It is this, in
fact, which constitutes the antithesis of the Other and the Idea. The Other of
the simple Idea which exists as yet in its substantiality, appears, too, in God,
but there retains His attribute of eternity, and continues to abide in love and
in the divine condition. This Other, which remains in the condition of what has
independent essential being, being in and for self, is, however, the truth of t
he Other as it appears in the form of the finite world, and as finite consciousn
ess. The element or matter, the necessity of which we have considered, is theref
ore essentially the same, whether it presents itself in the Divine Idea as exist
ing absolutely, or whether it appears as the wealth of the finite world ; for th
e finite world has its true and ideal existence only in that world of the Idea.
The necessity which appeared to lie behind and outside of the religious standpoi
nt, when the latter was deduced from the preceding stages of the natural and spi
ritual world, we now see to be inherent in itself, and it is thus to be set down
as its own inner form and development. In passing on to this development, we ac
cordingly begin again with the form of Appearance or phenomenal existence, and i
n the first place we shall consider Consciousness as it here appears in a condit
ion of relation, and fashions and develops the forms of this relation until the
inner necessity develops and attains completeness in the notion itself.

II. THE FORMS OF KELIGIOUS CONSCIOUSNESS.

What we have first to consider in the sphere in which the religious spirit manif
ests itself is the diversity of form assumed by the religious attitude. These fo
rms, being of a psychological kind, belong to the region of finite spirit. What
is common to all these, to begin with, is the consciousness of God ; and this is
not consciousness only, but is, more correctly speaking, certainty too. The mor
e definite form assumed by this certainty is faith certainty, that is, so far as
it is present in faith, or so far as this knowledge of God is feeling, and exis
ts in feeling. This has reference to the subjective side.
In the second place, we have to consider the objective side, the mode of the con
tent or object. The form iu
which, in the first instance, God exists for us, is the mode of sense-perception
, of idea, or ordinary thought, finally, the form of thought as such.
What comes first, therefore, is the consciousness of God in general the fact tha
t He is an Object to us, that in short we have ideas of Him. But this consciousn
ess does not only mean that we have an object and an idea, but also that this co
ntent exists, and is not merely an idea. That is the certainty of God.
The term idea, or the fact that a thing is an object in consciousness, means tha
t this content is in me, is mi'ne. I may have ideas of objects which are wholly
fictitious and fanciful ; what constitutes the idea here is in such a case my ow
n, but only my own ; it exists merely as an idea ; I am at the same time aware t
hat the content here has no existence. In dreams, too, I exist as consciousness,
I have objects in my mind, but they have no existence.
But we so conceive of the consciousness of God that the content is our idea, and
at the same time exists ; that is, the content is not merely mine, is not merel
y in the subject, in myself, in my idea and knowledge, but has an absolute exist
ence of its own, exists in and for itself. This is essentially involved in the c
ontent itself in this case. God is this Universality which, has an absolute exis
tence of its own, and does not exist merely for me ; it is outside of me, indepe
ndent of me.
There are thus two points bound up together here. This content is at once indepe
ndent and at the same time inseparable from me ; that is, it is mine, and yet it
is just as much not mine.
Certainty is this immediate relation between the content and myself. If I desire
to express such certainty in a forcible manner, I say " I am as certain of this
as of my own existence." Both (the certainty of this external Being and the cer
tainty of myself) are one certainty, and I would do away with my own Being, I sh
ould have no knowledge of myself if I were to do away with that Being. This unit
y thus involved in the certainty is the inseparability from me of this content w
hich yet is differrent from meand myself ; it is the inseparability of two thing
s which are yet distinguished from one another.
It is possible to stop here, and it has even been maintained that we are compell
ed to stop at this certainty. A distinction, however, at once suggests itself to
people's minds here, and it is one which is made in connection with everything.
 A thing, it is said, may be certain, but it is another question whether it is t
rue. The truth is here opposed to the certainty ; from the fact that a thing is
certain, it does not necessarily follow that it is true.
The immediate form of this certainty is that of faith. Faith, indeed, directly i
nvolves an antithesis ; and this antithesis is more or less indefinite. It is us
ual to put faith in contrast with knowledge. Now, if it be wholly opposed to kno
wledge, we get an empty antithesis. What I believe, I also know ; it is containe
d in my consciousness. Faith is a form of knowledge, but by knowledge is usually
understood a mediated knowledge, a knowledge involving clear apprehension.
To put it more definitely, certainty is called faith, partly in so far as this i
s not an immediate, sensuous certainty, and partly, too, in so far as this knowl
edge is not a knowledge of the necessity or necessary nature of a content. What
I see immediately before me, that I know ; I do not believe that there is a sky
above me ; I see it. On the other hand, if I have rational insight into the nece
ssity of a thing, in this case, too, I do not say " I believe," as, for example,
in the theorem of Pythagoras. In this case it is assumed that a person does not
merely accept the evidence of a thing on authority, but that he has seen into i
ts truth for himself.
In recent times, faith has been taken to mean a certainty which stands in contra
st with the perception of the necessary nature of an object. This, especially, i
s the meaning attached to faith by Jacobi. Thus, says Jacobi, we only believe th
at we have a body, we do not know it. Here knowledge has the more restricted mea
ning of knowledge of necessity. When I say " I see this," " this," says Jacobi,
is only a belief, for I perceive, I feel ; and such sensuous knowledge is entire
ly immediate and unmediated, it is no reasoned principle. Here faith has in fact
the meaning of immediate certainty.
Thus the expression " faith " is principally used to express the certainty that
a God exists, in so far as we do not have any perception of the necessity of wha
t constitutes God. In so far as the necessity of the content, its proved existen
ce, is called the Objective, objective knowledge, or cognition, so far is faith
something subjective. We believe in God in so far as we have not a perception of
the necessity of this content which implies that He is what He is.
It is customary to say that we must believe in God, because we have no immediate
or sensuous perception of Him. We speak, it is true, of grounds or reasons for
belief, but language of this sort is inappropriate ; for if I have grounds, and
in fact objective, proper grounds, then the existence of the object is for me pr
oved. The grounds themselves, however, may be of a subjective kind, and in this
case I simply let my knowledge pass as proved knowledge, and in so far as these
grounds are subjective, I speak of faith.
The first, the simplest, and as yet most abstract form of this subjective method
of proof is this, that in the being of the Ego, the being of the object, too, i
s contained. This proof and this mode of the object's appearance is given as the
first and immediate form, in feeling.
i . The Form of feeling.
In regard to this, we find, to begin with, that the following conclusions hold g
ood. a. We have knowledge of God, and, in fact, immediate knowledge. We are not
to seek to comprehend God, it is said, we are not to argue about God, because ra
tional knowledge has proved of no use here.
&. We must ask for a support for this knowledge. We have this knowledge only in
ourselves, thus it is only subjective knowledge, and therefore a foundation is a
sked for. Where, it is asked, is the place in which divine Being is, and in repl
y to this, it is said, " God is in feeling." Thus feeling gets the position of a
basis or causal ground in which the Being of God is given.
These propositions are quite correct, and are not to be denied, but they are so
trivial that it is not worth while to speak of them here. If the science of reli
gion be limited to these statements, it is not worth having, and it is not possi
ble to understand why theology exists at all.
a. We have immediate knowledge of the fact that God is. This proposition has, in
the first instance, a quite simple and ingenuous meaning ; afterwards, however,
it gets a meaning which is not ingenuous or without a suggestion of bias, namel
y this, that this so-called immediate knowledge is the only knowledge of God ; a
nd in taking up this position modern theology is in so far opposed to revealed r
eligion, and likewise to rational knowledge, for it, too, denies this propositio
n.
The element of truth in this must be considered more closely. We know that God i
s, and this we know immediately. What does " to know " l mean ? It is different
from cognition or philosophical apprehension. We have the expression " certain "
(gewiss), and we are accustomed to oppose certainty to truth. The term " to kno
w " l expresses the subjective manner in which a thing exists for me in my consc
iousness, so that it has the character of something existent.
Knowledge, therefore, essentially means this, that the object, the Other, is or
exists, and that its existence is linked with ray existence. I may also know wha
t it is, either by immediate sense-perception, or as the result of reflection ;
but when I say " I know it," I know only its being or bare existence. This exist
ence is not, it is true, empty existence ; I have a knowledge also of more defin
ite characteristics, qualities of the object, but of these, too, I know only tha
t they are. Knowing is also used in the sense of having an idea, but it is alway
s implied that the content is or exists. Such knowledge thus implies an abstract
attitude and an immediate relation ; whereas the expression " Truth " suggests
a severance between certainty and objectivity, and the mediation of the two. On
the other hand, we speak of " Cognition " or philosophical knowledge, when we ha
ve knowledge of a Universal, and at the same time comprehend it in its special d
efinite character, and as a connected whole in itself.
We comprehend or cognise Nature, Spirit, but not a particular house or a particu
lar individual. The former are Universals, the latter are particulars, and we co
mprehend or cognise the rich content of those Universals in their necessary rela
tion to one another.
Considered more closely, this knowledge is consciousness, but purely abstract co
nsciousness, that is to say, abstract activity of the Ego ; while consciousness
proper contains fuller determinations of content, and distinguishes these from i
tself, as object. This knowledge therefore merely means that such and such a con
tent is or exists, and consequently it is the abstract relation of the Ego to th
e object, whatever the content is ; or to put it otherwise, immediate knowledge
is nothing but thought taken in a quite abstract sense. Thought, however, too, m
eans the self-identical activity of the Ego, and therefore, taken generally, is
immediate knowledge.
To speak more precisely, thought is that in which its object has also the charac
ter of something abstract, the activity of the Universal. This thought is contai
ned in everything, however concrete the relation in any particular case may be ;
but it is only called thought in so far as the content has the character of som
ething abstract, of a Universal.
Knowledge is here accordingly no immediate knowledge of a corporeal object, but
knowledge of God ; God is the absolutely universal Object ; He is not any kind o
f particularity, He is the most universal Personality. Immediate knowledge of Go
d is immediate knowledge of an object which is absolutely universal, so that the
product only is immediate. Immediate knowledge of God is therefore a thinking o
f God, for Thought is the activity for which the Universal is.
God has here no other content, no further meaning ; He is merely nothing that be
longs to the sphere of sense ; He is a Universal of which we know only that it d
oes not come within the sphere of immediate sense-perception. It is, in fact, as
a movement of mediation that thought first attains its complete state, for it b
egins from what is "other than itself," permeates it, and in this movement chang
es it into what is Universal. But here thought has the merely Universal for its
object, as the undetermined or indeterminate Universal ; that is, lists a qualit
y, a content, which it itself is, in which it is, in fact, in immediate or abstr
act contact with itself. It is the light which illumines, but has no other conte
nt than just light. It is just such an immediateness as is implied when I ask wh
at feels feeling ? what perceives perception ? and am merely answered, feeling h
as feeling, perception perceives. In view of this tautology, the relation is an
immediate one.
Thus knowledge of God means nothing more than this, I think God. But now it is t
o be added further that this content of thought, this product, is, it is somethi
ng existent. God is not only thought by us, but He is ; He is not merely a deter
mination of the Universal. We must proceed to ascertain by examining into the No
tion (Begriff) itself, how far the Universal receives the determination or attri
bute of Being or existence.
We must turn to logic for a definition of Being. Being is Universality taken in
its empty and most abstract sense ; it is pure relation to self, without further
reaction either in an outward or an inward direction. Being is Universality as
abstract Universality. The Universal is essentially identity with itself ; Being
is this too, it is simple. The determination of the Universal, it is true, dire
ctly involves the relation to particulars ; this particularity may be conceived
of as outside the Universal, or, more truly, as inside it ; for the Universal is
also this relation to itself, this permeation of the Particular. Being, however
, discards all relation, every determination which is concrete ; it is without f
urther reflection, without relation to what is other than itself. It is in this
way that Being is contained in the Universal ; and when I say " the Universal is
," I merely express its dry, pure, abstract relation to itself, this barren imme
diateness which Being is. The Universal is no Immediate in this sense ; it must
also be a Particular ; the Universal must come to be in the Particular itself :
this bringing of itself to the Particular does not represent what is abstract an
d immediate. By the term " Being," on the contrary, we express the abstract Imme
diate, this barren relation to self. Thus when I say "This object is," I express
the utmost extreme of arid abstraction ; it is the emptiest, most sterile deter
mination possible.
To know is to think, and this is the Universal, and has in itself the characteri
stic of the abstract Universal, the immediateness of being : this is the meaning
of immediate knowledge.
We are thus in the region of abstract logic ; it always happens so when we think
we are on concrete ground, the ground of immediate consciousness. But this latt
er is the very poorest possible soil for thoughts, and those contained in it ar
e of the very baldest and emptiest kind. It is a proof of the grossest ignorance
to believe that immediate knowledge is outside the region of thought. We fight
with such distinctions, and when they are considered more closely they simply va
nish. Even according to the very poorest definition of " immediate knowledge," n
amely, that given above, religion belongs to the sphere of thought.
We, accordingly, go on to inquire m<~>re precisely wherein it is that what I kno
w in immediate consciousness is different from other things that I know. I know
as yet nothing but that the Universal is ; what further content God has is to be
discussed in the sequel. The standpoint of immediate consciousness gives nothin
g more than the form of Being referred to. That man cannot know what God is, is
the standpoint of " enlightenment," and this coincides with that of the immediat
e knowledge of God. But further, God is an Object of my consciousness, I disting
uish Him from myself, He is something different from me, and I from Him. If we c
ompare other objects in accordance with what we know of them, we find we know of
them this too, that they are, and are something other than ourselves, they exis
t for themselves, an.d further they are either universal or they are not, they a
re something universal and at the same time something particular ; they have som
e sort of definite content. The 'wall is ; it is a thing. Thing is a Universal,
and thus much I know too of God. We know far more of other things, but if we abs
tract from all their definite characteristics, we only say, as we said just now
of the wall, " It is," thus we know just as much of it as we do of God. And thus
God has been called an abstract Ens. But this ens is the very emptiest form of
existence compared with which other entia show themselves to have a far fuller e
xistence.
We have said that God is in immediate knowledge ; we are too ; this immediatenes
s of Being belongs to the Ego too. All other concrete, empirical things are or e
xist also, they are identical with themselves, this is abstractly their Being as
Being. This Being exists in common with me, but the object of my knowledge is s
o constituted that I can also withdraw its Being from it ; I represent it to mys
elf, believe in it, but this in which I believe is a Being in my consciousness o
nly. Consequently, universality and this quality of immediateness fall asunder,
and must of necessity do so. This reflection must necessarily occur to one, for
we are two, and must be separate ; otherwise we would be one ; that is, a charac
teristic must be attributed to the one which does not belong to the other. Such
a characteristic is Being ; " I am ; " the Other, the object, therefore is not.
I take Being to myself, to my side ; I do not doubt my own existence, and on tha
t account it drops away in the case of the Other. Since the Being here is only t
he Being of the object in such a way that the object is only this definitely kno
wn Being, there is wanting to it essential Being, Being in and for itself, and i
t receives this only in consciousness. It is merely known as known Being, not as
having Being in and for itself. The Ego only exists, not the object. I may inde
ed doubt everything, but my own existence I cannot doubt, for " I " is that whic
h doubts, " I " is the doubt itself. If the doubt becomes the object of doubt, t
he doubter doubts of doubt itself, and thus the doubt vanishes. " I " is immedia
te relation to oneself ; Being is in the " I." Immediateness thus gets a fixed p
lace over against Universality, and is seen to belong to my side. In the " I," B
eing is simply in myself; I can abstract from everything, but I cannot abstract
from thought, for the abstracting is itself thought, it is the activity of the U
niversal, simple reference to self. Being is exemplified in the very act of abst
raction. I can indeed destroy myself, but that is the liberty to abstract from m
y existence. " I am," in the " I " the " am " is already included.
Now, in the act of exhibiting the Object God as He who is Being, we have taken B
eing to ourselves, the " I " has vindicated Being for itself, Being has dropped
away from the object. If the object is notwithstanding to be spoken of as posses
sed of Being, a reason or ground must be given for this. It must be shown that G
od is in my Being, and thus since we are now in the region of experience and obs
ervation the demand sounds as if we were asked to point to the state or conditio
n in which God is in me, in which we are not two ; something observable, where t
he separateness drops away, where God is in this Being which remains to me in vi
rtue of \^ the fact that I am ; a place in which the Universal is in me as posse
ssed of Being, and not separated from me.
THIS PLACE is feeliNG.
&. Religious feeling is commonly spoken of as that element in which faith in God
is given to us, and as that inmost region in which it is for us absolutely cert
ain that God is. Of certainty we have already spoken. This certainty means that
two different kinds of Being are posited in reflection as One Being. Being is ab
stract relation to self ; there are, however, two things possessed of Being, but
they are only one Being, and this undivided Being is my Being ; this is certain
ty. This certainty, *<" with a content in a more concrete form, is feeling, and
this feeling is set forth as the ground of faith and of the knowledge of God. Wh
at is in our feeling, that we call knowledge, and so, accordingly, God exists. I
n this way feeling is regarded as that which is the basis or causal ground. The
form of knowledge is what is first, then come the distinctions, and with these e
nter the differences between the two, and the reflection that the Being is my Be
ing, that it belongs to me. And here accordingly is the need that the object, to
o, should be in this Being which I assume as mine ; and this is feeling. In this
way we refer or appeal to feeling.
" I feel something hard ; " when I thus speak, " I " is the One, the Other is th
at " something ; " there are two of them. The expression of the consciousness wh
at is i common to the two is the hardness. There is hardness in my feeling, and
the object, too, is hard. This community exists in feeling, the object touches m
e, and I am filled with its specific quality. When I say " I " and "object," the
two still exist jndependently ; it is only in feeling thatjthe double Being ^ v
anishes. The specific character of the object becomes mine, and indeed so much m
ine that at first reflection in reference to the object, entirely drops away ; i
n so far as the other remains independent, it is not felt, or tasted. I, however
, since I get a determinate character in feeling, take up an immediate attitude
in it. In feeling I am this single empirical I, and the determinate character of
my feeling belongs to this particular empirical self-consciousness.
A distinction is thus implicitly contained in feeling. On the one side am I, the
Universal, the Subject ; and this transparent, pure fluidity, this immediate re
flection into myself, becomes disturbed by an " Other ; " but in this " Other "
I keep myself entirely with myself, I preserve completely my self-centred existe
nce. The extraneous quality becomes, so to speak, fluid in my universality, and
that which is for me an " Other," I make my own. When another quality has been p
ut into what is lifeless, this particular thing has acquired another quality too
. But I, as feeling, maintain myself in that " Other " which penetrates me, and
continue to be, in the determinateness, I. The distinction in feeling is, in the
first place, an inner one in the Ego itself ; it is the distinction between me
in my pure fluidity, and me in my definite character. But this inner distinction
, owing to the fact that reflection enters into it, is none the less also posite
d as such. I separate myself from my definite character of determinateness, plac
e it as " Other " over against me, and subjectivity comes to exist on its own ac
count merely in relation to objectivity.
It is usual to say that feeling is something purely subjective ; but it is in re
ference to an object of perception, or of which I form an idea, that I first bec
ome subjective by placing some " other " over against me. It would consequently
appear that feeling cannot be termed something subjective, since in it the disti
nction of subjectivity and objectivity has not as yet appeared. This division, h
owever, namely, that I as subject exist in reference to objectivity, is in reali
ty a relation and identity, which is at the same time distinguished from this di
stinction, and it is just here that Universality begins. While I stand in relati
on to another, and in perception, or in forming ideas, distinguish the object fr
om myself, I am the mutual reference of these two, myself and the other, and I a
m making a distinction in which an identity is posited, and my attitude with reg
ard to the object is that of a grasping over (iibergreifeu) or bridging over of
the difference. In feeling, as such, on the contrary, the Ego exists in this imm
ediate simple unity, in a condition in which it is wholly filled with determinat
e character, and does not go beyond this character. Thus I am, as feeling, somet
hing entirely special or particular ; I am thoroughly immersed in determinateues
s, and am in the strict sense of the word subjective only, without objectivity a
nd without universality.
Now, if feeling be the essential religious attitude, this attitude is identical
with my empirical self. Determinateness, representing the eternal thought of the
Universal, and I as wholly empirical subjectivity, are in me comprised and comp
rehended in feeling. I am the immediate reconciliation and resolution of the str
ife between the two. But just because I thus find myself determined on the one h
and as a particular empirical subject, and am on the other raised into a wholly
different region, and have the experience of passing to and fro from the one to
the other, and have the feeling of the relation of the two, do I find myself det
ermined as against myself, or as distinguished from myself. That is to say, in t
his very feeling of mine I am driven by its content into contrast or opposition
in other words, to reflection and to the distinction of subject and object.
This transition to reflection is not peculiar to religious feeling only, but to
human feeling generally. For man is Spirit, consciousness, idea ; there is no fe
eling which does not contain in itself this transition to reflection. In every o
ther feeling, however, it is only the inner necessity and nature of the process
which impels to reflection, namely, the necessity whereby the Ego distinguishes
itself from its determinate state. Religious feeling, on the contrary, contains
in its content, in its very deterininateness, not only the necessity but the rea
lity of the opposition itself, and consequently contains reflection. For the sub
stance or content of the religious relation is just the thought of the Universal
, which is itself, indeed, reflection, and therefore the other moment of my empi
rical consciousness, and the relation of both. Therefore in religious feeling I
am alienated from myself, for the Universal, the Thought which has an absolute e
xistence, is the negation of my particular empirical existence, which appears in
regard to it as a nullity which has its truth in the Universal only. The religi
ous attitude is unity, but it involves the power of judgment or differentiation.
In feeling the moment of empirical existence, I feel the universal aspect, that
of negation, as a determinateness which exists entirely outside of me ; or, to
put it otherwise, while I am in this last I feel myself estranged from myself in
my empirical existence, I feel I am renouncing myself and negating my empirical
consciousness.
Now the subjectivity which is contained in religious feeling, being empirical an
d particular, exists in feeling in the shape of some particular interest, or in
some particular determinate form in fact. Religious feeling contains just this d
efinite (twofold) character, that of empirical self-consciousness, and that of u
niversal thought, and their relation and unity. It therefore hovers between thei
r opposition and their unity and harmony, differing in character with the attitu
de of individual subjectivity to the Universal, as it determines itself in accor
dance with the particular shape assumed by the interest in which I happen at the
time to be absorbed. Accordingly the relation of the Universal and the empirica
l self-consciousness may be of a very varied kind. There may be the utmost tensi
on and hostility of the extremes, or the most entire unity. When the condition i
s that of separation, in which the Universal is the Substantial in relation to w
hich the empirical consciousness feels that it exists, and at the same time feel
s its essential nothingness, but desires still to cling to its positive existenc
e and remain what it is, we have the feeling of fear. When we realise that our o
wn inner existence and feeling are null, and when self-consciousness is at the s
ame time on the side of the Universal and condemns that existence, we get the fe
eling of contrition, of sorrow on account of ourselves. The empirical existence
of self-consciousness feels itself benefited or furthered, either as a whole, or
in some one or other of its aspects. feeling that it has hardly been thus benef
ited by its own self-activity, but owing to combination and a power lying outsid
e of its own strength and wisdom, which is conceived of as the absolutely existi
ng Universal, and to which that benefit is ascribed it comes to have the feeling
 of gratitude, and so on. The higher unity of my self-consciousness generally wi
th the Universal, the certainty, assurance, and feeling of this identity, is lov
e, blessedness.
c. But if with this advance of feeling to reflection, and this distinguishing be
tween the " I " and its determinate state, which thus appears as content and obj
ect, such a position be given to feeling that it becomes in its
very self the justification of the content and the evidence of its Being or trut
h, it is necessary to make the following remarks :
The matter of feeling may be of the most varied character. "We have the feeling
of justice, of injustice, of God, of colour, of hatred, of enmity, of joy, &c. T
he most contradictory elements are to be found in feeling ; the most debased, as
well as the highest and noblest, have a place there. Experience proves that the
matter of feeling has the most accidental character possible ; it may be the tr
uest, or it may be the worst. God, when He is present in feeling, has no advanta
ge over the very worst possible thing. On the contrary, the kingliest flower spr
ings from the same soil and side by side with the rankest weed. Because a conten
t is found in feeling, it does not mean that this content is in itself anything
very fine. For it is not only what exists that cojnes into our feeling ; ~. it i
s, not only the real, the existent, but also the fictitious^ and the false. All
that is good and all that is evil, all that is real and all that is not real, is
found in our feeling ; the most contradictory things are there. All imaginable
things are felt by me ; I can become enthusiastic about what is most unworthy. I
have hope ; hope is a feeling ; in it, a,s in fear, we have to do with the futu
re ; that is, in so many words, with what does not yet exist, with what perhaps
indeed will, perhaps never will, be. Likewise I can become enthusiastic about th
e past ; but also for such things as neither have been, nor will be. I can imagi
ne myself to be a great and able, a noble-minded, most superior man, to be capab
le of sacrificing everything for justice, for my opinion ; I can imagine myself
to have been of great use, to have accomplished much; but the question is, wheth
er it is true, whether as a matter of fact I act so nobly, and am in reality so
excellent as I imagine myself to be. \Vhether my feeling is of a true sort, whet
her it is good, depends upon its content. The mere fact that there is a content
in feeling does not decide the matter, for the very worst elements are there too
. In like manner the question as to the existence of the content does not depend
uponwhether or not it is in feeling, for things which have been imagined merely
, which have never existed, and never will exist, are found there. Consequently,
feeling is a form, or mould, for every possible kind of content, and this conte
nt receives no determination therefrom which could affect its own independent ex
istence, its being in-and-for self. feeling is the form in which the content app
ears as perfectly accidental, for it may just as well be posited by my caprice,
or good pleasure, as by Nature. The content as it exists in feeling thus appears
as not absolutely determined on its own account, as not posited through the Uni
versal, through the Notion. Therefore it is in its very essence the particular,
the limited; and it is a matter of indifference whether it be this particular co
ntent, since another content may just as well be in my feeling. Thus when the Be
ing of God is shown to be present in our feeling, it is just as accidental there
as all else to which this Being may belong. This, then, we call Subjectivity, b
ut in the worst sense. Personality, self-determination, the highest intensity of
Spirit in itself is subjectivity too, but in a higher sense, in a freer form. H
ere, however, subjectivity means mere contingency or fortuitousness.
It feequently occurs that a man appeals to feeling when reasons fail. Such a man
must be left to himself, for with the appeal to his own feeling the community b
etween us is broken off. In the sphere of thought, on the contrary, of the Notio
n, we are in that of the Universal, of rationality ; there we have the nature of
the real object before us ; we can come to an understanding concerning it ; we
submit ourselves to .the object, and the object is that which we have in common.
 But if we pass over to feeling, we forsake this common ground ; we
withdraw ourselves into the sphere of our contingency, and merely look at the ob
ject as it is there. In this sphere each man makes the object his own affair, so
mething peculiar to himself ; and thus if one person says you ought to have such
feelings, another may reply, I simply have not those feelings ; as a matter of
fact, I am not so constituted. For what is really in question in this demand is
merely that contingent existence of mine, which takes this or the other form ind
ifferently.
Further, feeling is that which man has in common with the lower animals ; it is
the animal, sensuous form. It follows, therefore, that when what belongs to the
category of justice, of morality, of God, is exhibited to us in feeling, this is
the worst possible way in which to draw attention to the existence of a content
of such a kind. God exists essentially in Thought. The suspicion that He exists
through thought, and only in thought, must occur to us from the mere fact that
man alone has religion, not the beasts.
All in man, whose true soil or element is thought, can be transplanted into the
form of feeling. Justice, freedom, morality, and so on have their roots in the h
igher destiny of man, whereby he is not beast, but Spirit. All that belongs to t
he higher characteristics of humanity can be transplanted into the form of feeli
ng; yet the feeling is only the form for this content, which itself belongs to a
quite different region. Thus we have feelings of justice, freedom, morality ; b
ut it is no merit on the part of feeling that its content is true. The educated
man may have a true feeling of justice, of God ; he does not, however, derive th
is from feeling, but he owes it to the education of thought; it is only through
thought that the content of the idea, and thus the feeling itself, is present. I
t is a fallacy to credit the true and the good to feeling.
Yet not only may a true content exist in our feeling, it ought to exist, and mus
t exist ; or, as it used to be put, we must have God in our heart. Heart is inde
ed more than feeling. This last is only momentary, accidental, transient ; but w
hen I say " I have God in my heart," the feeling is here expressly represented a
s the continuous, permanent manner of my existence. The heart is what I am ; not
merely what I am at this moment, but what I am in general ; it is my character.
The form of feeling as somethirig universal thus means the principles or settle
d habits of my existence, the fixed manner of my way of acting.
In the Bible, however, evil, as such, is expressly attributed to the heart, and
the heart this natural particularity of ours is, as a matter of fact, the seat o
f evil. But goodness, morality, do not consist in the fact that a man enforces t
he claims of his particularity, his selfishness, or selfuess. If he does so, he
is evil. The element of self is the evil element which we generally call the hea
rt. Now when it is said, as above, that God, justice, &c., must exist in my feel
ing, in my heart, what is meant is only that these are not to be merely somethin
g of which I form ideas, but are to be inseparably identical with me. I, as actu
al, as this definite individual, am to be so determined completely and entirely
; this definite nature is to be my character, is to constitute the whole manner
of my actual existence, and thus it is essential that every true content should
be in feeling, in the heart. Such is the manner in which religion is to be broug
ht into the heart, and it is here that the necessity for the religious education
of the individual comes in. The heart, feeling, must be purified, educated ; an
d this education means that another, a higher mode of feeling is the true one, a
nd comes into existence with the individual. Yet the content is not true, not se
lf-existent, good, inherently excellent, simply because it is in feeling. If wha
t is in feeling be true, then all must be true ; as, for example, Apis-worship.
feeling is the central point of subjective, accidental Being. To give his feelin
gs a true content, is therefore the concern of the individual ; but a theology w
hich only describes feelings does not get beyond the empirical, the historical,
and such contingent particulars, and has not yet to do with thoughts that have a
content.
The ideas and knowledge of an educated man do not exclude feeling and emotion. O
n the contrary, feeling nourishes itself, and gives itself permanence by means o
f ideas, and by means of ideas renews and kindles itself afeesh. Anger, resentme
nt, hatred, show just as much activity in keeping themselves alive by representi
ng to themselves the various aspects of the injustice sustained, and the various
aspects in which they view the enemy, as do love, goodwill, joy, in giving them
selves feesh life by figuring to themselves the equally manifold relations of th
eir objects. If we do not think, as it is called, of ^ the object of hatred, ang
er, or of love, the feeling and the inclination become extinct. If the object fa
des out of the mind, the feeling vanishes too, and every external cause stirs up
sorrow and love afeesh. To divert the mind, to present other objects to it to e
xercise itself upon, and to transplant it into other situations and circumstance
s in which those various relations are not present to the mind, is one of the me
ans of weakening sensation and feeling. The mind must forget the object ; and in
hatred to forget is more than to forgive, just as in love to forget is more tha
n to be unfaithful, and to be forgotten is worse than to be only disregarded. Ma
n, as Spirit, since he is not merely animal, in feeling essentially exercises kn
owledge ; he is consciousness, and he only has knowledge of himself when he with
draws himself out of immediate identity with the particular state of the moment.
Therefore if religion is only to exist as feeling, it dies away into something
void of ideas, and equally void of action, and loses all definite content.
In fact, it is so far from being the case that in feeling alone we can truly fin
d God, that if we are to find this content there, we must already knoio it from
some other source. And if it be affirmed that we do not truly know God, that we.
can know nothing of Him, how then can we say that He is in feeling ? We must fi
rst have looked around us in consciousness in search of characteristics belongin
g to the content which is distinct from the Ego, and not till then shall we be i
n a position to point to feeling as religious, that is, in so far as we rediscov
er those characteristics of the content in it.
In more recent times it has been customary to speak of conviction, and not of th
e heart, the " heart" being the expression still used for any one's immediate ch
aracter. When, however, we speak of acting according to conviction, it is implie
d that the content is a power which governs me ; it is my power, and I belong to
it ; but this power rules me from within in a fashion which implies that it is
already mediated by thought and intellectual insight.
In regard further to what has special reference to the idea that the heart is th
e germ of this content, it may be freely conceded that the idea is correct, but
this does not carry us far. That the heart is the source, means nearly this that
it is the first mode in which any such content appears in the subject ; it is i
ts first place, or seat. A man begins by having religious feelingor wanting it ;
in the former case the heart is undoubtedly the germ ; but as a vegetable seed-
corn represents the undeveloped mode of the plant's existence, so feeling, too,
is this hidden or undeveloped mode.
That seed-corn, with which the life of the plant begins, is only in appearance,
in an empirical fashion, what is first ; for the seed-corn is likewise a product
, a result, is what is last. It is the result of the fully developed life of the
tree, and incloses this perfect development of the nature of the tree in itself
. The primariness is therefore only of a relative character. In a similar way in
our subjective actuality, this entire content exists in an undeveloped form in
feeling ; but it is quite another thing to say that this content as such belongs
to feeling as such. Such a content as God, is a content which is selfexistent a
nd universal ; and in like manner the content of right and duty is a characteris
tic of rational will. I am will, I am not desire only ; I have not only inclinat
ion ; " I" is the Universal. As will, however, I am in my freedom, in my Univers
ality itself, in the Universality of my self-determination ; and if my will be r
ational, then its determining is in fact an universal one, a determining in acco
rdance with the pure Notion. The rational will is very different from the contin
gent will, from willing according to accidental impulses or inclinations. The ra
tional will determines itself in accordance with its notion or conception ; and
the notion, the substance of the will, is pure freedom. And all determinations o
f the will which are rational are developments of freedom, and the developments
which result from the determinations are duties.
This is the content which belongs to rationality ; it is determination by means
of, in accordance with, the pure Notion, and therefore belongs in like manner to
thought. Will is only rational in so far as it involves thought. The popular id
ea that will and intelligence represent two different provinces, and that will c
an be rational, and so moral, without thought, must therefore be relinquished. A
s regards God it has already been observed that this content in like manner belo
ngs to thought, that the region in which this content is apprehended as well as
produced is thought.
Now, though we have designated feeling as the sphere in which the Being of God i
s to be immediately exhibited, we have not in that region found the Being, the O
bject God in the form in which we sought for it ; that is to say, we have not fo
und it there as free, independent Being, Being in and for self. God is, He is in
dependent and self-existent, is free; we do not find this independence, this fre
e Being, in feeling ; nor do we find the content as a self-existent content ; on
the contrary, any kind of particular content may be in feeling. If feeling is t
o be of a truthful, genuine character, it must be so by means of its content ; b
ut it is not feeling which, as such, renders its content true.
Such is the nature of this sphere of feeling, and such are the characteristics w
hich pertain to it. It is feeling of any kind of content, and simultaneously fee
ling of self. In feeling we thus as it were have the enjoyment of our own selves
, of our realisation of the object. The reason why feeling is so popular, is jus
t because in it a man is in presence of his particularity or particular existenc
e. He who lives in the object or actual fact itself, in science, in the practica
l, forgets himself in it ; it involves no feeling so far as feeling is recollect
ion of his individual self, and in that forgetting of himself he is as regards h
is particular existence a minimum. Vanity, self-satisfaction, on the other hand,
which likes nothing better than self, and the possession of self, and only desi
res to remain in the enjoyment of self, appeals to personal feeling, and therefo
re does not arrive at objective thinking and acting. A man who has to do with fe
eling only is not as yet complete ; he is a beginner in knowledge, in action, &c
.
We must now therefore look around us for another basis for God. In feeling, we h
ave not found God either in accordance with His independent Being, or in accorda
nce with His content. In immediate knowledge, the Object was not possessed of Be
ing ; on the contrary, its Being was found in the knowing subject, which discove
red the basis of this Being in feeling.
In regard to the determinate character of the Ego, which constitutes the content
of feeling, we have already seen that it is not only distinct from the pure Ego
, but must also be distinguished from feeling in its own peculiar movement in th
at the E<K> finds itself determined as
against itself. This distinction is now, too, to be posited as such, so that the
activity of the Ego comes into operation, and sets its determinate character at
a distance, so to speak, as not its own, places it outside of itself, and makes
it objective. And further, we saw that the Ego is in feeling potentially estran
ged from itself, and has potentially in the Universality which it contains, the
negation of its particular empirical existence. Now, in putting its determinaten
ess outside of itself, the Ego estranges itself, does away, in fact, with its im
mediacy, and has entered into the sphere of the Universal.
At first, however, the determinateness of Spirit appears as the external object
in general, and gets the entirely objective character of externality in space an
d time. And the consciousness which places it in this externality, and relates i
tself to it, is perception, which we here have to consider in its perfect form a
s Art-perception.
. Perception.
Art had its origin in the feeling of the absolute spiritual need that the Divine
, the spiritual Idea, should exist as object for consciousness, and in the first
place for perception in its immediate form. The law and content of art is Truth
as it appears in mind or Spirit, and is therefore spiritual truth, but spiritua
l truth in such a form that it is at the same time sensiwus truth, existing for
perception in its simple form. Thus the representation of truth is the work of m
an, but it appears in an external fashion, so that it is produced under the cond
itions of sense. When the Idea appears immediately in Nature and in spiritual re
lations too, when the True shows itself in the midst of diversity and confusion,
the Idea is not yet gathered into one centre of manifestation ; it still shows
itself in the form of externality, or mutual exclusion. In immediate existence t
he manifestation of the Notion does not yet appear in harmony with truth. That s
ensuous perception to which art gives occasion is, on the contrary, something wh
ich is necessarily the product of Spirit, not something which appears in an imme
diate or sensuous shape, and it has the Idea as its life-giving centre.
In what may be regarded as constituting the entire sphere of art, there may be o
ther elements included than those which have just been alluded to. For truth has
here a double meaning, and first of all that of accuracy, by which is meant, th
at the representation should be in conformity with the otherwise known object. I
n this sense art is formal, and is imitation of given objects, whatever the cont
ent may be. Here its law is not beauty. But in so far also as beauty is its law,
art can be still taken as involving form, and have, moreover, a limited, well-d
efined content, as much as the literal truth itself. But this last in its true s
ense is correspondence of the object with its conception or notion, namely, the
Idea. And this, as the free expression of the notion unhindered in any way by co
ntingency or caprice, is the self -existent content of art, and is a content ind
eed which has to do with the substantial universal elements, the essential quali
ties, and powers of nature and of Spirit.
The artist, then, has to present truth, so that the reality, in which the concep
tion or notion has power, and in which it rules, is at the same time something s
ensuous. The Idea exists consequently in a sensuous form, and in an individualis
ed shape, which cannot miss having the contingent character attaching to what is
sensuous. The work of art is conceived in the mind of the artist, and in his mi
nd the union of the notion or conception and of reality has implicitly taken pla
ce. But when the artist has let his thoughts emerge into externality, and the wo
rk is completed, he soon retires from it.
Thus the work of art is, so far as perception is concerned, in the first instanc
e, an external object of a quite ordinary sort, which has no feeling of self, an
d does not know itself. The form, the subjectivity, which the artist has given t
o his work, is external only ; it is not the absolute form of what knows itself,
of self-consciousness. Subjectivity, in its complete form, is wanting to the wo
rk of art. This self-consciousness belongs to the subjective consciousness, to t
he perceiving Subject. In relation to the work of art, therefore, which in itsel
f is not something having knowledge, the element of self-consciousness is the Ot
her, but an element, too, which belongs to it absolutely, and which knows the ob
ject represented, and represents it to itself as the substantial truth. The work
of art, since it does not know itself, is essentially incomplete, and (since se
lf-consciousness belongs to the Idea) it needs that completion which it acquires
by the relation to it of what is self-conscious. It is in this consciousness th
at the process takes place by which the work of art ceases to be merely object,
and by which self-consciousness posits that which seems to it as an Other, as id
entical with itself. This is the process which does away with that externality i
n which truth appears in art, and which annuls these lifeless relations of immed
iacy, and it is through it that the perceiving subject gives itself the consciou
s feeling of having in the object its own essence. Since this characteristic, wh
ich is a going into itself out of externality, belongs to the subject, there exi
sts a separation between the subject and the work of art ; the subject is able t
o contemplate the work in a wholly external manner, to take it to pieces, or he
can make smart, sesthetical, and learned remarks upon it ; but that process whic
h is the essential one for perception, that necessary completion of the work of
art, in turn does away with this prosaic separation.
In the oriental idea of the substantiality of consciousness, its unity with the
one Absolute Substance, this separation has not yet been reached, and therefore
artperception is not brought to a perfect state either, for this last presuppose
s the higher freedom of self-consciousness, which is able to place its truth and
substantiality freely over against itself. Bruce, when in Abyssinia, showed a p
ainted fish to a Turk, but the remark which the latter made was this : " At the
last day the fish will lay it to your charge that you gave it no soul." An orien
tal does not desire mere form ; on the contrary, for him the soul remains absorb
ed in unity, and does not advance to the condition of separation, nor reach the
process in which truth stands on the one side as embodied without a soul, and on
the other the perceiving self-consciousness, which again annuls this separation
.
If we now look back upon the progress which the religious attitude has made in i
ts development up to this point, and if we compare perception with feeling, we s
hall see that truth has indeed definitely appeared in its objectivity ; but we s
ee too that the defect, or deficiency, in its manifestation is, that it remains
in sensuous, immediate independence, that is to say, in that independence which
in turn annuls itself, does not exist on its own account, and which likewise pro
ves itself to be the product of the subject, since it only attains to subjectivi
ty and self-consciousness in the perceiving subject. In perception the elements
of the totality of the religious relation namely, the object, and self-conscious
ness have got separated . The religious process belongs, indeed, to the perceivi
ng subject only, and yet it is not complete in the subject, but needs the object
perceived by sense. On the other hand, the object is the truth, and yet it need
s, in order to be true, the self-consciousness which lies outside of it.
The advance now necessary is this, that the totality of the religious relation s
hould be actually posited as such, and as unity. Truth attains to objectivity, i
n which its content as existing on its own account is not merely something posit
ed, but exists essentially in the form of subjectivity itself, and the entire pr
ocess takes place in the element of self-consciousness.
In accordance with this, the religious attitude is in the first place that of th
e general idea or ordinary thought.

. Idea, or Ordinary Thought?

We can very easily distinguish between a picture (Bild) and an idea (Vorstellung
). Something different is meant when we say "We have an idea," from what is mean
t when we say, "We have a picture of God ; " the same difference exists with reg
ard to sensuous objects. A picture derives its content from the sphere of sense,
 and presents it in the immediate mode of its existence, in its singularity, and
in the arbitrariness of its sensuous manifestation. But since the infinite numb
er of individual things, as they are present in immediate, definite existence, c
annot, even by means of the most detailed or ample representation, be rendered a
s a whole, the picture is necessarily always something limited ; and in religiou
s perception, which is able only to present its content as a picture, the Idea s
plits up into a multitude of forms, in which it limits itself and renders itself
finite. The universal Idea (Idee), which appears in the circle of these finite
forms, and only in these, and which is merely their basis, must as such remain c
oncealed.
General idea or ordinary thought (Vorstellung), on the other hand, is the pictur
e lifted up into the form of Universality, of thought, so that the one fundament
al characteristic, which constitutes the essence of the object, is held fast, an
d is present before the mind which thus forms the idea. If, for instance, we say
" world," in this single sound we have gathered together and united the entire
wealth of this infinite universe. If the consciousness of
NOTE. Throughout this section Vorstellung is generally translated as " idea," wi
th a small i, and without the article to distinguish it from the Idea (die Idee)
which represents, to use the definition of Professor Wallace, thought in its to
tality as an organisation or system of reason, but this rendering has not been s
trictly adhered to here or elsewhere, and general idea, ordinary thought, popula
r conception, and other equivalents have been employed. E. B. S. the object be r
educed to this simple, specific form of thought, it is then idea, which needs no
thing but the word for its manifestation this simple utterance or outward expres
sion which remains within itself. The manifold content which idea simplifies may
be derived from the inner life, from freedom, and then we have ideas of right,
of morality, of wickedness. Or it may be derived from external phenomena, too, a
s, for instance, we may have ideas of battles, or of wars in general.
Religion, when lifted up into the form of idea, directly involves a polemical el
ement. The content is not grasped in sensuous perception, not in a pictorial and
immediate manner, but mediately, after the fashion of Abstraction. What is sens
uous and pictorial is lifted up into the Universal, and with the elevation into
this sphere there is necessarily linked a negative attitude towards what is pict
orial. But this negative attitude does not merely concern the form (in which cas
e the distinction between sense-perception and idea would lie in that only), but
it also touches the content. The Idea (Idee) and the mode of presentation are s
o closely related for senseperception, that the two appear as One, and pictorial
art implies that the Idea is essentially linked with it, and could not be sever
ed from it. On the contrary, general idea (Vorstellung) proceeds on the supposit
ion that the absolute, really true Idea cannot be grasped by means of a picture,
and that the pictorial mode is a limitation of the content ; it therefore does
away with that unity of perception, rejects the unity of the picture and its mea
ning, and brings this meaning into prominence for itself.
Finally, then, religious idea or general conception, is to be understood as embo
dying truth, objective content, and is thus meant to be antagonistic not only to
the pictorial mode of representing truth, but also to other modes of subjectivi
ty. Its content is that which has validity in and for itself, which remains subs
tantially fixed as against individual suppositions and opinions, and is inflexib
le as contrasted with the fluctuations of individual desires and likings.
This has reference to the essence of idea in a general sense. With regard to its
more specific form, we have to make the following remarks :
a. We have seen that in idea the essential content is posited in the form of tho
ught, but this does not mean that it is already posited as thought. When, theref
ore, we said that idea takes up a polemical attitude to the sensuous and pictori
al, and assumes a negative attitude with regard to it, this does not imply that
idea has freed itself absolutely from the sensuous, and posited the latter ideal
ly in a complete and perfect way. It is only in actual thought that this is acco
mplished, which lifts up the sensuous qualities of the content to the region of
universal thought-determinations, to the inward moments, or to the determinatene
ss as peculiar to the Idea itself. Since idea is not this concrete elevation of
the sensuous to the Universal, its negative attitude towards the sensuous means
nothing more than that it is not truly liberated from the sensuous. General idea
or ordinary thought is still essentially entangled with the sensuous; it requir
es it, and requires to enter on this contest with the sensuous in order to exist
. The sensuous element, therefore, belongs essentially to idea, although idea ne
ver permits the sensuous to enjoy an independent validity. Further, the Universa
l, of which idea is conscious, is only the abstract Universality of its object,
only its undetermined Essence, or approximate natura In order to give a determin
ate character to that essence, it again requires what is determined by Sense, th
e pictorial ; but to this as being sensuous it gives the position of something w
hich is separate from what is signified by it, and treats it as a point at which
it is not permissible to remain, as something which only serves to represent th
e proper or true content which is separate from it. On this account, then, idea
is in a state of constant unrest between immediate sensuous perception on the on
e hand, and thought proper on the other. Its determinateness is of sensuous kind
, derived from what is sensuous, but thought has introduced itself ; in other wo
rds, the Sensuous becomes elevated into thought by the process of abstraction. B
ut these two, the Sensuous and the Universal, do not interpenetrate one another
thoroughly ; thought has not as yet completely overcome the sensuous determinate
ness, and although the content of idea is also something universal, yet it is st
ill encumbered with the determinateness of the Sensuous, and needs the form of t
he natural (Natiirlichkeit). But it is not the less true that this moment of the
Sensuous does not possess independent validity.
Thus there are many forms in religion, regarding which we know that they are not
to be taken in their strict sense. For instance, " Son," or " Begetting " is on
ly a figure derived from a natural relation, regarding which we know quite well
that it is not intended to be understood in its immediate sense, but that what i
s indicated is rather a relation which is only approximately the one here descri
bed, and that this sensuous relation lias in it what corresponds most nearly to
that relation which is taken in the strict sense in regard to God. And further,
when we speak of the wrath of God, of His repentance, or His vengeance, we know
at once that the words are not meant to be taken in the strict sense, but merely
as implying resemblance, likeness. Then, too, we meet with figures worked out i
n detail. We hear, for instance, of a tree of knowledge of good and evil. With t
he eating of the fruit, it already begins to become doubtful whether what is sai
d of this tree is to be taken strictly as a narrative as a historical truth and
so, too, of the eating or whether this tree is not rather to be taken as a figur
e. When mention is made of a tree of knowledge of good and evil, such opposite e
lements are involved' in the conception that we very soon come to perceive that
the fruit is no sensuous fruit, and that the tree is not to be taken in the stri
ct sense.
b. What is not merely to be taken as a figure, but rather in the sense of someth
ing historical as such, belongs also, in respect to the sensuous element in it,
to the mode of the general idea. Something may be stated in a historical way, bu
t we do not take it seriously as such, we do not ask if it is meant to be taken
seriously. Such, for instance, is our attitude toward what Homer tells us of Jup
iter and the other gods.
But then besides this there is something historical which is a divine history, a
nd of such a nature that it is regarded as in the strict sense a history, the hi
story of Jesus Christ. This is not taken merely as a myth in a figurative way, b
ut as something perfectly historical. That accordingly is something which belong
s to be sphere of general ideas, but it has another side as well. It has the Div
ine for its content, divine action, divine timeless events, a mode of working th
at is absolutely divine. And this is the inward, the true, the substantial eleme
nt of this history, and it is just this that is the object of reason. In every n
arrative, in fact, there is this double element ; a myth, too, has a meaning in
itself. There are, it is true, myths in which the external form in which they ap
pear is of the most importance, but usually such a myth contains an allegory, li
ke the myths of Plato.
Every narrative in fact contains this external series of occurrences and actions
, but these are occurrences it must be remembered in the life of a man, a spirit
. The history of a state is that of the mode of working, the actions, the fate o
f a universal spirit, the spirit of a people. Anything of this kind has already
on its own account and in itself a universal element. Looking at the matter in a
superficial sense, it may be said that it is possible to draw a moral out of ev
ery bit of history.
The moral which is drawn from it contains at all events the essential moral forc
es which have been at work in it, which have produced it. These are its inner, i
ts substantial element. The narrative thus presents the aspect of something whic
h is broken up into detail, it possesses this detached or isolated character, an
d is individualised to the utmost possible degree ; but universal laws, moral fo
rces are recognisable in it too. These do not exist for idea or ordinary thought
as such. What concerns idea or ordinary thought is the narrative as it historic
ally develops itself in the phenomenal sphere.
In an historical narrative of this kind, there is something even for the man who
se thoughts or conceptions have not as yet been definitely formed and cultivated
. He feels these forces in it, and has a dim consciousness of them. Such is the
essential form which religion takes for the ordinary consciousness, for consciou
sness in its ordinary state of cultivation. It is a content which at first prese
nts itself in a sensuous manner, a succession of actions, of sensuous determinat
ions, which follow each other in time, and are, further, side by side in space.
The content is empirical, concrete, manifold, but it has also an inner element.
There is spirit in it which acts upon spirit ; the subjective spirit bears witne
ss to the Spirit which is in the content, at first through dim recognition witho
ut this Spirit being developed for consciousness.
c. All spiritual content, all spiritual relation in general is finally idea when
its inner characteristics come to be conceived of simply as self-related and in
dependent.
If we say, " God is all-wise, good, righteous," we have a definite content ; but
each of these determinations of the content is single and independent ; " and,"
" also," are the links which belong to the general idea. " Allwise," " supremel
y good," are conceptions too : they are no longer imagery, do not belong to sens
e or history, but are spiritual determinations. They are not, however, as yet ac
tually analysed ; the distinctions are not yet posited in their mutual relations
, but are merely taken in an abstract simple self-reference. In so far certainly
as the content already has manifold relations in itself, but a relation which i
s only external, there is posited thereby an external identity. When we say a th
ing is this, then that, and then so and so, these determinations have to begin w
ith the form of contingency.
Or if idea contain relations which are nearer to thought, as for instance, that
God created the world, the relation is still grasped by idea in the form of cont
ingency and externality. Thus, in the idea of the creation, God remains on the o
ne side apart, and the world on the other, but the connection of the two sides i
s not posited under the form of necessity. This connection is either expressed a
ccording to the analogies of natural life and natural events, or, if it be desig
nated as creation, it is treated as a connection to be regarded as quite peculia
r and incomprehensible. If, however, the word " Activity " be used as expressive
of that which produced the world, it is indeed a more abstract term, but it is
not as yet the notion. The essential content stands fast by itself in the form o
f simple universality, in which it lies concealed and undeveloped, and its trans
ition by its own act into another, its identity with that other, has not yet bee
n reached ; it is merely identical with itself. The bond of necessity and the un
ity of their difference are wanting to the individual points.
As soon, therefore, as idea or ordinary thought attempts to conceive an essentia
l connection, it leaves the connection in the form of contingency, and does not
go on to its true essence and to its eternal interpenetrative unity. Tims in ide
a the thought of providence and the movements of histoiy are embraced in and gro
unded on the eternal decree of God. But here the connection is at once transplan
ted into a sphere where it is said to be incomprehensible and inscrutable for us
. The thought of the universal, therefore, does not become determined in itself
, and is no sooner expressed than it is immediately cancelled.
Having seen what is the general character of idea, or ordinary thought, it is no
w time to touch upon the pedagogic question of recent times, namely, whether rel
igion can be taught. Teachers who do not know how to set about teaching religion
, hold that instruction in the doctrines of religion is out of place. But religi
on has a content or substantial element, which must be capable of being placed b
efore the mind in an objective manner. This involves the possibility of communic
ating the content so represented to the mind, for ideas are communicable by word
s. To warm the heart, to excite emotions, is something different. That is not to
teach, that is to interest my subjectivity in something, and an eloquent sermon
may produce the effect without containing doctrine or instruction. If, indeed,
-we make feeling our point of departure, if we posit it as that which is primary
and original, and then say that religious ideas spring from feeling, that is, i
n one aspect of the matter, true, in so far as the original determinateness belo
ngs to the nature of Spirit itself. But, on the other hand, feeling is so indete
rminate that anything may be in it, and the knowledge of what lies in feeling do
es not belong to feeling itself, but is supplied only by the culture and instruc
tion which ordinary thought communicates. The instructors referred to do not wis
h that children and mankind generally should go beyond their subjective emotions
of love, and they represent the love of God as being like that of parents to th
eir children, who love them, and should love them just as they are : they pride
themselves on abiding in the love of God, and while they tread all divine and hu
man laws under foot, they think and say they have not injured love. But if love
is to be pure, it must first renounce selfishness, it must have freed itself, an
d Spirit is only freed when it has come outside of itself and has once beheld th
e
Substantial as Another and a Higher over against itself. It is only when it has
taken up a definite position toward the absolute power, toward the awe-inspiring
Object, and thereby has come outside of itself in it, freed itself from itself
and yielded itself up, that Spirit truly returns to itself. That is to say, the
fear of God is the presupposition of true love. What the essentially True is mus
t reveal itself to the heart as an independent existence, in relation to which i
t renounces itself, and only through this mediation, through the restoration of
itself, wins true freedom.
When the objective truth exists for me, I have emptied myself of myself, I have
kept nothing for myself, and have at the same time conceived of this truth as mi
ne. I have identified myself with it, and have maintained myself in it, but as p
ure passionless self-consciousness. This relation Faith as the absolute identity
of the content with myself, is the same thing as religious feeling, but with th
is difference, that it at the same time expresses that absolute objectivity whic
h the content has for me. The Church and the Eeformers knew perfectly well what
they meant by faith. They did not say that men are saved by feeling, by sensatio
n (ata-Oijai^), but by faith, so that in the absolute object I have freedom, whi
ch essentially includes the renunciation of my own will and pleasure, and of par
ticular conviction.
Now since, as compared with feeling, in which the content exists as a specific s
tate of the subject, and consequently as contingent, idea implies that the conte
nt is lifted up into objectivity, it is in connection with the latter of these t
hat the content should justify itself on its own account on the one hand, and on
the other, that the necessity of its essential connection with self-consciousne
ss should be explained.
It is to be observed here, however, in reference to what primarily concerns the
content itself, that the value which it has in idea is that of something given,
of which all that is known is that it is so; then over against this abstract imm
ediate objectivity, the connection of the content with self-consciousness appear
s, to begin with, as one which has still a purely subjective character. The cont
ent, it is then said, commends itself to me for its own sake, and the witness of
the Spirit teaches me to recognise it as truth, as my essential determination.
And, undoubtedly, the infinite idea of the Incarnation for example that speculat
ive central point has so great a power in it that it penetrates irresistibly int
o the heart which is not as yet darkened by reflection. But here my own connecti
on with the content is not yet truly developed, and it appears only as something
instinctive. The Ego, which turns itself in this manner to the content, does no
t require merely to be this simple and ingenuous Ego, it can be worked upon and
inwardly moulded in various ways. Thus incipient reflection, which goes beyond a
dherence to what is given, may already have perplexed me, and perplexity in this
region is all the more dangerous and serious, that, owing to it, morality and e
very other stay in myself and in life, in action and in the state, become unstab
le. The experience, accordingly, that I cannot help myself by means of reflectio
n, that I cannot, in fact, take my stand upon myself at all, and the circumstanc
e that I still crave after something that stands firm all this forces me back fr
om reflection and leads me to adhere to the content in the form in which it is g
iven. Yet this return to the content is not brought about by means of the form o
f inward necessity, and is only a result of despair, in that I know not where to
turn, nor how to help myself in any other way than by taking that step. Or it m
ay be that we reflect on the wonderful way in which religion has spread, and how
millions have found comfort, satisfaction, and dignity in it. To cut oneself of
f from this authority is declared to be perilous, and the authority of private i
ndividual opinion is laid aside in its favour. But here too a false is taken, in
that personal conviction is subjugated to general authority, and in relation to
it is silenced. The consolation lies only in the supposition that the manner in
which millions have regarded the matter must probably be right, and the possibi
lity remains that, on being looked at once more, it may turn out to be otherwise
.
All these aspects of thought may be put into the form of evidences of the truth
of religion, and they have had this form given to them by apologists. But this o
nly introduces mere arguing and reflection, a form of reasoning which does not t
ake to do with the content of truth in its essential nature, which only brings f
orward credibilities or probabilities, and instead of contemplating the truth in
its essential nature is only able to conceive of it in connection with other ci
rcumstances, occurrences, and conditions. And besides, although Apologetics, wit
h its mere arguings, passes over into the region of thought and the drawing of c
onclusions, and seeks to bring forward grounds or reasons which are supposed to
be different from authority, yet its principal ground is again a mere authority,
namely, the divine one that God has revealed to man what he has to represent to
himself in the form of an idea. Without this authority apologetics cannot stir
for a single moment, and this perpetual mixing up and confusion of thought, or s
yllogistic reasoning and authority, is essential to the standpoint. But since fr
om this point of view it is inevitable that the arguing process should go on ad
infinitum, that supreme divine authority is in turn seen to be one which itself
stands in need of proof and rests upon an authority. For we were not present, an
d did not see God when He gave the revelation. It is always others only who tell
us of it, and assure us of the fact, and the very witness of these others, who
lived through the history, or who at first learned it from eyewitnesses, is, acc
ording to those apologists, to be the means of uniting our conviction with a con
tent which is separated from us as to time and space. Yet even this mediation is
not absolutely secure, for we are dependent here on theconstitution of the medi
um which stands between us and the content, namely the perception of others. The
power of perceiving the meaning of events demands prosaic understanding and its
culture, and therefore conditions which were not present among those of olden t
imes, for they lacked the capacity to grasp the history on its finite side, and
to draw out of it the inner meaning which it contains, since the antithesis of p
oetry and prose was not as yet defined with absolute distinctness. And if we pla
ce the divine in the historical, we continually get into the element of instabil
ity and want of fixed character which essentially belong to all that is historic
al. The prosaic understanding and unbelief took up a position of antagonism to t
he miracles of which the apostles tell us, and, regarding the matter from the ob
jective side, there is the further objection of the want of proper proportion be
tween miracle and the Divine.
But even if all these ways of bringing about the connection of the content of id
ea or ordinary thought with self-consciousness for once attain their end, if the
apologetic style of argument with its reasons has brought some to conviction, o
r if I with the needs, impulses, and sorrows of my heart have found comfort and
tranquillity in the content of religion, it is a mere accident that this has tak
en place. This result depends on the fact that this very standpoint of reflectio
n and inner feeling has not as yet been disturbed and has not yet aroused in its
elf the presentiment of the existence of a Higher Being. It is therefore depende
nt on an accidental sense of defect.
I, however, do not consist merely of this heart and feeling, or of this good-nat
ured reflection which shows itself compliant to the apologetics of the understan
ding, and naively welcomes it and is on]y too glad when it perceives reasons whi
ch are adequate, and suitable to it, but I have other and higher needs besides.
I am also concretely determined in an entirely simple and universal way, so that
the determinateness in me is pure simple determinateness. That is to say, I am
the absolutely concrete Ego, thought determining itself in itself ; I exist as t
he Notion. This is another mode of iny being concrete ; here I do not only seek
satisfaction for my heart, but the Notion seeks satisfaction, and it is as compa
red with the Notion that the religious content in the mode of idea or ordinary t
hought keeps the form of externality. Although many a great and richly endowed n
ature, and many a profound intelligence has found satisfaction in religious trut
h, yet it is the Notion, this inherently concrete thought, which is not as yet s
atisfied, and which asserts itself to begin with as the impulse of rational insi
ght. If the as yet indefinite expression, " reason, rational insight," be not re
duced merely to this, that something or other is certain for me as an external s
pecific fact ; if, on the contrary, thought have so determined itself that the o
bject stands firm to me on its own basis, and is founded in itself, then it is t
he Notion which as universal thought differentiates itself in itself and in the
differentiation remains identical with itself. Whatever further content in regar
d to the will or intelligence I may have in what is rational, the essential matt
er is always that such content should be known by me as founded in itself, that
I have in it the consciousness of the Notion ; that is to say, not conviction me
rely, certainty, and conformity with principles which are otherwise held to be t
rue, and under which I subserve it, but that in it I have the truth as truth, in
the form of truth in the form of the absolutely concrete, and of that which abs
olutely and perfectly harmonises with itself.
And thus it is that idea melts into the form of thought, and it is this quality
of form which philosophic knowledge imparts to truth. From this it is clear that
nothing is further from the aim of philosophy than to overthrow religion, and t
o maintain forsooth that the content of religion cannot for itself be truth. On
the contrary, it is just religion which is the true content, only in the form of
idea or ordinary thought, and it is philosophy which must first supply substant
ial truth, nor has mankind had to wait for philosophy in order to receive the co
nsciousness of truth.

III. THE NECESSITY AND MEDIATION OF THE RELIGIOUS ATTITUDE IN THE FORM OF THOUGH
T.
That inner connection and absolute necessity into which the content of idea is t
ransplanted in thought is nothing else but the Notion in its freedom, in such a
form that all content comes to be determination of the Notion, and is harmonised
with or equalised with the Ego itself. The determinateness is here absolutely m
y own ; in it, Spirit has its own essential nature as object, and the given char
acter, the authority and externality of the content, vanish for me.
Thought consequently gives to self -consciousness the absolute relation of freed
om. Idea or ordinary conception still keeps within the sphere of outward necessi
ty, since all its moments, while bringing themselves into relation with each oth
er, do this without in any way yielding up their independence. The relation of t
hese elements in thought, on the contrary, is that of ideality, and this means t
hat no element stands apart or is independent of the rest, but each rather appea
rs as something that is a show or semblance (Schein) in relation to the others.
Thus every distinction, every definite element, is something transparent, not ex
isting on its own account in a dark and impenetrable fashion. This implies that
the objects distinguished are not independent, and do not offer resistance to ea
ch other, but are posited in their ideality. The relation or condition of the ab
sence of freedom, both that of the content and of the subject, has now vanished,
because we have now absolute correspondence of the content with the form. The c
ontent is in itself free, and its inherent appearance is its absolute form ; and
in the object the subject has before it the action of the Idea, of the Notion w
hich exists in and for itself, which it itself is.
In describing thought and its development, we have now to observe in the first p
lace how it shows itself in relation to idea or ordinary conception, or rather a
s the inner dialectic of idea ; then, secondly, how as Reflection it seeks to me
diate the essential moments of the religious attitude ; and finally, how as spec
ulative thought it completes itself in the notion or conception of religion, and
does away with Reflection in the free necessity of the Idea.
i . The Dialectic of Idea.
a. What we have here to notice first of all is that thought dissolves this form
of simplicity in which the content exists in idea. And that is the very charge w
hich is so often brought against philosophy, when it is said that it does not le
ave the form of idea or ordinary thought untouched, but that it alters it, or st
rips off it the content. And then, since for the ordinary consciousness the trut
h is bound up with that form, it imagines that if the form be altered, it will l
ose the content and the essential reality, and it interprets that transformation
as destruction. If philosophy changes what is in the form of the ordinary idea
into the form of the Notion, we are undoubtedly met with the difficulty of how t
o separate in any content what is content as such, which is thought, from what b
elongs to the ordinary idea as such. But to break up the simplicity of idea or o
rdinary thought only means to begin with, to get the idea of distinct characteri
stics, as existing in this simple subjectmatter, and to exhibit them in such a w
ay that it is recognised as being something which is inherently manifold. This p
rocess is directly involved in the question : " What is that ? " Blue, for insta
nce, is a sensuous idea.
If it be asked, " What is blue ? " blue is perhaps pointed out in order that the
perception of it may be acquired ; in the general idea, however, this perceptio
n is already included. What is sought after in this question, when seriously put
, is rather the knowledge of the Notion ; it is to know blue as a relation of it
self within itself, to know determinations in their distinctness and in their un
ity. Blue, according to Goethe's theory, is a unity of li^ht and dark, and of su
ch a kind that in it the dark element is the foundation, and what disturbs this
darkness is something different, a light-giving element, a medium by means of wh
ich we see this darkness. The sky is darkness, is obscure ; the atmosphere clear
; through this clear medium we see the blue.
Thus God, as the content of idea, is still in the form of simplicity. Now, when
we think this simple content, distinct characteristics or attributes have to be
indicated, whose unity, so to speak, whose sum, or, more accurately, whose ident
ity, constitutes the object. Orientals say God has an infinite number of names,
that is, of attributes ; to pronounce exhaustively what He is would be impossibl
e. If, however, we are to grasp the notion of God, He must have distinct attribu
tes, and these have to be reduced to a narrow circle, in order that by means of
these and the unity of the attributes, the Object may be complete.
&. A more definite category is the following. In so so far as a thing is thought
of, it is posited in relation to an Other. Either the object is known in itself
as the mutual relation of elements which are distinguished, or as the relation
of itself to an Other which we know outside of it. In idea, or ordinary concepti
on, we always have qualities which are distinct, whether they belong to a whole
or are arranged separately.
In thought, however, we become conscious of the contradiction of those elements
which are at the same time supposed to constitute One. If they contradict each o
ther, it does not seem as if they could belong to what is One. If, for instance,
God is kind and just too, the kindness contradicts the justice. In like manner,
God is almighty and wise. He is therefore on the one hand the power before whic
h everything vanishes is not ; but this negation of all that has a definite exis
tence is in contradiction with His wisdom. This last demands something which is
definite, it has an aim or purpose, it is the limitation of that indefinite elem
ent, which power is. In idea, each element has its place, and all rest quietly s
ide by side : man is free and also dependent ; there is good and there is evil,
too, in the world. In thought the various elements are brought into mutual relat
ion, and then the contradiction becomes apparent.
There is something quite characteristic about the action of reflecting thought,
when it appears as the abstract understanding and takes to do with idea, when th
e latter expresses inner qualities and relations in a sensuous, natural, or, to
speak generally, in an external shape. As the reflecting understanding, besides,
always has pre-suppositions of finitude, as it gives these absolute validity, a
nd makes them the rule or standard, overthrowing the Idea and absolute truth if
these are opposed to them, so, too, it turns sensuous and natural specific forms
, in which, after all, idea seeks to recognise the thought of the Universal, int
o quite definite finite relations, holds fast this finiteness, and then declares
idea, or ordinary thought, to be in error. To a certain degree, it is still the
dialectic of idea itself which is contained in this activity of the understandi
ng, and hence the enormous importance of the Aufklarung, which that action of un
derstanding was, for the clearing up of thought. To a certain extent, however, i
t is the case that here the dialectic of idea is driven beyond its true compass,
and transplanted into the territory of formal arbitrariness or caprice.
Thus, for instance, in the popular conception or idea of original sin, the inner
 relation of thought is at the same time conceived of in the specific form of wh
at is natural ; but yet, by using the expression " sin," it means to raise into
the sphere of the universal the natural element which lies in the conception of
inheritance. The understanding, on the contrary, conceives of the relation in fi
nite fashion, and thinks only of natural possessions or of hereditary disease. I
t is freely conceded that here, so far as the children are concerned, it is a ma
tter of accident that parents should have property or should be tainted with dis
ease ; children may inherit noble rank, property, or evil without either merit o
r blame. If, then, we further reflect on the fact that the freedom of self-consc
iousness is superior to these conditions of chance, and that in the absolutely s
piritual sphere of goodness each one has in that which he does his oiun deed, or
, it may be, his own sin, it is easy to point out the contradiction involved if
that which belongs absolutely to my freedom be supposed to have come upon me fro
m elsewhere in a natural way, unconsciously and from the outside.
It is much the same when understanding attacks the idea of the Trinity. In this
idea, too, the inner thoughtrelation is conceived of in an external fashion, for
number is thought in the abstract form of externality. But here understanding h
olds fast the externality only, keeps to numeration, and finds each of the Three
externally complete in relation to the Others. Now, if this quality of number b
e made the foundation of the relation, it is undoubtedly a complete contradictio
n that those who are perfectly external in relation to one another should at the
same time be One.
c. Finally the category of necessity too comes in. In ordinary thought space exi
sts, there is space. Philosophic thought desires to know the necessity of this.
This necessity lies in the fact that in thought a content is not taken as being,
as existing in simple determinateness, in this simple relation to self merely,
but essentially in relation to an " Other," and as a relation of elements which
are mutually distinct.
What we call " necessary " is this, that if the one is, the other is thereby pos
ited too, the first is only determined in so far as the second exists, and conve
rsely. For idea or ordinary thought the finite exists, the finite is. For philos
ophic thought, the finite immediately becomes something which does not exist on
its own account, but which requires for its existence something else, only is in
fact through an Other. For thought in general, for definite thought, more preci
sely for notional comprehension or philosophic conception there is nothing immed
iate.
Immediacy is the leading category of idea or ordinary conception where the conte
nt is known in its simple relation to self. For thought, that only exists in whi
ch mediation is essentially present. These are the abstract, general characteris
tics which belong to this abstract distinction between religious idea or concept
ion and thought.
If, in relation to the question before us, we consider this point more closely,
all forms of immediate knowledge, faith, feeling, &c., are seen to belong in thi
s respect to the category of idea or ordinary thought. And here the question ari
ses, " Is religion, the knowledge of God, an immediate or a mediated knowledge ?
"
. The Mediation of the Religious Consciousness in itself.
In passing on to consider what is essentially involved in thought and necessity,
and consequently to mediation, the demand for such a mediated knowledge comes i
nto opposition with immediate knowledge, and it is in this aspect of opposition
that we have in the first place to consider it.
(a.) Immediate knowledge and mediation.
It is a very general opinion, and it is generally asserted that the knowledge of
God exists only in an immediate fashion ; it is a fact of our consciousness, it
is so. We have an idea of God and the conviction that this idea is not only sub
jective in us but that God also is. It is said that religion, the knowledge of G
od, is faith only, that mediated knowledge is to be excluded, and that it destro
ys the certainty, the security of faith, and what really constitutes faith. Here
we have this antithesis between immediate and mediated knowledge. Thought, conc
rete thought, philosophic comprehension, is mediated knowledge. But immediacy an
d mediation of knowledge are one-sided abstractions, and the one is this as much
as the other. What is meant, or presupposed, is not that correctness or truth i
s to be ascribed to the one to the exclusion of the other, to one or the other b
y itself, to one of the two as isolated. Further on we shall see that true thoug
ht or philosophical comprehension unites both in itself, and does not exclude ei
ther.
(a.) To mediated knowledge belongs the deduction of the one from the other, the
dependence, conditionality of one determination on another, what we call Reflect
ion. Immediate knowledge discards all differentiations ; it puts away these mode
s of connection, and has only what is simple, one mode of connection, one knowle
dge, the subjective form, and then, "it is." In so far as I know certainly that
God is, knowledge is a connection between myself and this content ; as certainly
as I exist, so certainly does God exist. My being and the being of God are thus
connected together in one, and the relation is Being. This Being is simple, and
at the same time double, or twofold.
In immediate knowledge this connection is entirely simple ; all modes involving
relation are obliterated. To begin with, let us also conceive of it in an empiri
cal manner, that is, let us place ourselves at the same standpoint as that occup
ied by immediate knowledge. What speaking generally we call empirical knowledge,
amounts just to this : I simply know it, this is a fact of consciousness ; I fi
nd in myself the idea of God and that He is.
This standpoint is, that what is empirical only is to be regarded as valid, that
man is not to go beyond what he finds in consciousness. It is not asked why it
is found, or how it is necessary. This would lead to cognition or philosophical
knowledge, and that is just the evil which is to be guarded against. The empiric
al question then is, " Is there an immediate knowledge ? "
To mediated knowledge belongs knowledge of necessity. What is necessary has a ca
use, it must be. The existence of something else or an Other, through which or t
hrough the existence of which it itself exists, is essential to such knowledge.
In it there is a connection of what is differentiated. The mediation can only be
merely finite mediation. The effect, for example, is taken as something standin
g on the one side, the cause as something on the other.
It is the very nature of the finite to be dependent on an Other ; it does not ex
ist independently, in and for itself, or through itself; something else is neces
sary to its existence. Man is physically dependent; he needs external nature, ex
ternal things. These are not produced by his act ; they appear as self-existent
in relation to him ; he can only prolong his life in so far as they exist and ar
e of use to him.
The higher mediation of the Notion, of reason, is a mediation with itself. To me
diation belongs this differentiation, and essential connection of Two ; such con
nection, namely, that the One only is, in so far as the Other is. Now in immedia
cy this mediation is excluded.
(/.) But even if we take up an empirical, an external attitude, it will be found
that there is nothing at all that is immediate, that there is nothing to which
only the quality of immediacy belongs to the exclusion of that of mediation, but
that what is immediate is likewise mediated, and that immediacy itself is essen
tially mediated.
It is the nature of finite things to be mediated; finite things are created, beg
otten, as a star, or an animal The man who is a father, is as much begotten, med
iated, as the son. If we start from the father, then the father is, in the first
instance, what is immediate, and the son, as the one begotten, is what is media
ted. Everything that lives, however, inasmuch as it is a begetter, and is determ
ined accordingly as something which begins, something immediate, is also somethi
ng begotten.
Immediateness means, in fact. Being. It means this simple reference to self; it
is immediate, in so far as we put the relation out of sight. If we define this e
xistence as being one of the related sides in the relation as effect then what i
s without relation is recognised as something mediated. In like manner the cause
only exists in virtue of having an effect, for otherwise it would be no cause a
t all. Only in this relation, and therefore only in this mediation, is it a caus
e. Everything that exists (we do not as yet speak of mediation with self), since
it requires an Other for its being, that is to say, for its immediacy, is in so
far mediated.
The sphere of Logic is that of the Dialectic in which Being is considered as tha
t which, if taken as something immediate, is untrue. The truth of Being is Becom
ing ; Becoming is a single determination, self-related ; it is a something immed
iate, an entirely simple idea, but it contains both determinations Being and Not
-Being. There is no Immediate ; the truth rather being that it is a mere scholas
tic notion. Only in this bad sense is there any such thing as immediacy.
It is just the same with regard to immediate knowledge, which is a particular mo
de, a kind of immediacy ; there is no immediate knowledge. " Immediate knowledge
" exists where we have not the consciousness of mediation ; all the same, it is
mediated. We have feelings, and this is something immediate ; we have perceptio
n, and that appears under the form of immediacy. When, however, we have to do wi
th thought-determinations, with the categories of thought, we must not stop shor
t with knowing how anything first presents itself, but find out whether this is
actually its nature.
If, for instance, we consider a perception, we see that I am the knowledge, the
perception, and that further there is an Other, an object ; or, if it is not con
ceived of as objective, but as subjective, there is at least some determinatenes
s or conscious state present for me. In sensation, I ana thus mediated only by m
eans of the object, by means of the definite character of my sensation. It is al
ways a content ; two elements go to the making of it. Knowledge is absolutely si
mple, but I must know something ; if I am mere knowledge, I know nothing at all.
It is the same with pure seeing. In pure seeing I see nothing at all. Pure know
ledge may be called immediate, it is simple ; but if knowledge be actual, be rea
l, we have then what knows and what is known, we have relation and mediacy.
Speaking more definitely, religious knowledge is essentially a mediated knowledg
e, but all the same it is not admissible to look in a one-sided way upon mere me
diated knowledge as being real and true. To whatever religion a man may belong,
every one knows that he was brought up in it, that he received instruction in it
. This instruction, this up-bringing, supplies me with my knowledge ; my knowled
ge is mediated through doctrine, education, &c.
Besides, if it be positive religion that is in question, it is revealed, and tha
t in a manner external to the individual ; there the faith in the religion is es
sentially mediated through revelation. These circumstances and doctrines, and th
is revelation, are not of a chance character, they are not accidental, but are e
ssential; they undoubtedly have to do with an external relation, but this relati
on is not non-essential on account of its being external.
If we now turn our attention to the other side, the inner side, and forget that
faith, conviction, has this mediated character, we are then in a position to con
sider it as independent. It is just here for the most part that the assertion of
immediate knowledge comes in ; we have immediate knowledge of God it is said ;
this is a revelation in us. This is a great principle, which it is essential we
should hold fast ; it involves the truth that positive revelation cannot supply
a religion in such a way that it could have the character of something mechanica
lly produced, of something effected from the outside, and set up within man by a
n external agency.
Here the old saying of Plato is in place, that man learns nothing, he only remem
bers ; the truth is something which man originally carries within himself; expre
ssed in an outward, and not in a philosophical way, it is his remembering a cont
ent which was known in a preceding state. Here it is represented mythically, but
it involves the thought that religion, justice, morality, all that is spiritual
, is only aroused in man ; he is potentially Spirit, the truth lies in him, and
what has to be done is merely to bring it into consciousness.
Spirit bears witness to Spirit ; this witness is the peculiar inner nature of Sp
irit. In this the weighty idea is involved that religion is not brought into man
from the outside, but lies hidden in himself, in his reason, in his freedom, in
fact. If we abstract from this relation, and consider what this knowledge is, h
ow this religious feeling, this self-revelation in the Spirit is constituted, it
is seen to be immediacy indeed, like all knowledge, but immediacy which likewis
e contains mediation in itself. For if / form an idea of God, this directly invo
lves mediation, although the reference to God is quite direct and immediate. I e
xist as knowledge, and then there is an Object, namely, God, and therefore a rel
ation, and knowledge as representing this relation is mediation. I as one having
knowledge in a religious way have this character only by means of this content
which is in my knowledge. If we look at religious knowledge more closely, it sho
ws itself not only to be the simple relation of myself to the object, but to be
knowledge of a much more concrete kind. This purely simple relation, the knowled
ge of God, is inner movement, or to put it more accurately, it is a rising up or
elevation to God. We describe religion as being essentially this passing over,
or transition from one content to another, from the finite to the absolute, infi
nite content.
This transition, in which the characteristics peculiar to mediation are definite
ly pronounced, is of a twofold kind. In its first form it is a passing over from
finite things, from things of the world, or from the finiteness of our consciou
sness, and from this finiteness in general which we call " ourselves," " I," thi
s particular subject to the infinite, to this infinite more strictly defined as
God. The second mode of the transition has aspects of a more abstract kind, whic
h are related in accordance with a deeper, more abstract antithesis. Here the on
e side is determined as God, the infinite generally, as something known by us ;
the other side, to which we pass over, is, to use a general term, determinatenes
s as something objective, something existent. In the former transition what the
two sides have in common is Being, and this content of both sides is set down as
finite and infinite ; in the latter what the two have in common is the infinite
, and this is stated in the form of the subjective and objective.
We have now to consider the relation of knowledge of God within itself. Knowledg
e is relation within itself, it is mediated ; either mediated through what is Ot
her than itself or within itself, but it is mediation, because in it the referen
ce of myself to an object takes place a reference to God, who is an " Other."
I and God are different from one another; if both were One, there would then be
immediate relation, free from any mediation ; relationless unity, that is to say
, unity without differentiation. Because the two are different, One is not what
the Other is ; if, however, they are related, if they have identity at the same
time with their difference, then this identity is itself different from their di
fference ; it is something different from both of these, because otherwise they
would not be different.
Both are different, their unity is not themselves ; that wherein they are One, i
s that wherein they are different ; they are, however, different, therefore thei
r unity is different from their difference. And this implies that mediation take
s place more strictly in a Third as contrasted with the elements of difference,
and thus we have a syllogism ; we have Two who are different, and a Third which
brings them together, in which they are mediated, are identical.
Thus it is not merely indirectly suggested by, but is actually involved in, the
very object with which we are dealing, that in so far as we treat of the knowled
ge of God we are directly concerned with what has the form of a syllogism. The t
wo are different, and there is a unity, in which they are put into One through a
Third ; that is the syllogism. Therefore we have to consider more closely the n
ature of the knowledge of God, which is essentially mediated in itself. The know
ledge of God presents itself in its more precise shape under the form of the Pro
ofs of the existence of God. Here the knowledge of God is represented as a media
ted knowledge.
That only which is One, abstractly One, is unmediated. The Proofs of the existen
ce of God represent the knowledge of God, because it contains mediacy within its
elf. Religion itself is knowledge of God. The explication or unfolding of this k
nowledge, which is mediated, is an unfolding of religion itself. But this form o
f proof undoubtedly goes somewhat on wrong lines when this knowledge is represen
ted as the proof of the existence of God. Criticism has been directed against it
, but the one-sided moment of form which characterises this mediated knowledge,
does not invalidate the whole procedure.
What has to be done, therefore, is to restore the proofs of the existence of God
to their place of honour, by divesting them of what is inadequate in them. We h
ave God and His existence (Daseiri); existence is determinate finite Being ; the
Being of God is not in any way whatever a limited Being ; existence (Existenz)
too is taken in the sense of specific existence. We thus have God in His Being,
actuality, objectivity, and the process of proof has for its object to point out
to us the connection between the two determinations, because they are different
, and not immediately One.
Everything is immediate in its relation to itself God as God, Being as Being. To
prove is to show that those elements which are to begin with in a condition of
difference have also a connection, an identity not a pure identity, for that wou
ld be immediacy, sameness. To exhibit a connection means, in fact, to prove; thi
s connection may be of different kinds, and so far as the process of proof is co
ncerned, the kind of connection which is in question is left undecided.
There is connection which is of an entirely external, mechanical kind. For examp
le, we see that a roof is necessary to the walls ; the house has this roofed for
m as protection against the weather, &c. It may be said, it is proved that a hou
se must have a roof ; the object is the combination of the walls with the roof.
This is certainly a case of one thing matching with another ; it is connection,
but at the same time we have the consciousness that this connection does not con
cern the being of these objects. That wood and tiles constitute a roof, does not
affect their being ; so far as they are concerned, the connection is merely an
external one. In this case, proof consists in pointing out a connection between
entities for which the connection is itself external.
There are accordingly other forms of connection which are inherent in the object
, in the content itself. This is the case, for example, as regards geometrical a
xioms. Given a right-angled triangle, you have at once given a certain relation
between the square of the hypothenuse and the squares of the containing sides. T
hat is essential necessity; here the relation is not one of those in which the c
onnection is external ; on the contrary, here the one cannot be without the othe
r ; along with the one the other is given too.
But in this necessity, the mode in which we perceive the necessity is different
from the connection of the determinations in the actual thing itself. The course
which we follow in the process of proof is not the course of the object or actu
al thing itself ; it is one different from that which is involved in the nature
of the object. It is we who draw auxiliary lines ; it would not occur to any one
to say, that a triangle in order to have its three angles equal to two right an
gles takes the plan of extending one of its angles, and only thereby acquires th
e property in question. Here our perception of what is necessary, the intermedia
ry process which we go through, and the process in the object itself, are differ
ent from one another.
The construction and the demonstration are only undertaken on behalf of our subj
ective apprehension. It is not objectively the case that the triangle attains by
this process to the relation or property in question ; it is only we who get to
see the truth through this process, and that is merely subjective necessity, no
t a connection, not a process in the object itself.
This kind of demonstration, these connections, are at once seen to be unsatisfac
tory as regards the knowledge of God, the inherent connection of the attributes
of God, and the connection of our knowledge of God and of His attributes.
The unsatisfactoriness takes, more strictly speaking, the following form: In the
course followed by subjective necessity, just referred to, we set out from prim
ary, certainly known, determinations, from such things as are already known to u
s. We have presuppositions here, certainly known conditions, implying that the t
riangle, the right-angle exists. Certainly known connections are presupposed, an
d in such demonstrations we point out that, if such and such a determination exi
st, then such and such another must also exist ; that is to say, we make the res
ult dependent on given conditions which are already present.
The attitude assumed is that the result we aim at is represented as something de
pendent upon presuppositions. Geometrical proof, as simply the work of the under
standing, is undoubtedly the most perfect kind of proof ; the proof of the under
standing, in which a thing is shown to be dependent upon something else, is carr
ied through with the utmost consistency and thoroughness. But when we apply this
to the Being of God, the inadequacy involved in attempting to exhibit such a co
nnection in regard to God becomes evident at once. And it indeed appears especia
lly in that first movement which we called rising up to God, for when we conceiv
e of this in the form of proof, what is implied is that the finite becomes the f
oundation or basis upon which the Being of God is demonstrated. In this connecti
on, the Being of God appears as an inference, as dependent on the Being of the f
inite.
And thus the inadequacy of this process which we call proof to exhibit that whic
h we represent to ourselves under the name of God, becomes apparent. For we conc
eive of Him precisely as that which is undeduced, underived, absolutely existent
in and for itself. That, then, is the perversion above referred to. But if it b
e thought that in consequence of an observation of this kind, this movement has
been shown to be futile, such an idea would in turn imply a one-sidedness which
would at once be found to be in contradiction with the universal consciousness o
f man.
Man contemplates the world, and because he is a thinking, rational being, since
he finds no satisfaction in the chance nature of things, he rises from the finit
e to absolute necessity, and says, " finite being is contingent, there must ther
efore be a self-existent necessity, which is the basis of this contingency." Tha
t is the course which human reason, the human spirit follows, and this proof of
the existence of God is nothing but the description of that act of rising up to
the infinite.
In like manner the following more concrete line of thought will always be adopte
d. Since living things exist in the world, which in virtue of their life, and as
essentially organised, constitute a harmony of diverse component parts, and fur
ther, since these living things stand in need of external objects, such as air,
&c., which are yet independent of them, men will always argue that there must be
an inner ground for the harmony which exists t> between things which are not se
lf-evidently dependent on one another.
This harmony does actually exist, and it presupposes an activity which has produ
ced it, and has been exercised in accordance with ends. To contemplate this is t
o admire the wisdom of God in Nature, as it is termed, this marvel presented by
the living organism, and the harmony of external objects with it. From this harm
ony man rises to the consciousness of God. If any one supposes that in case of t
he form of the proofs of the existence of God being disputed these proofs are re
ndered obsolete as regards their content also, he is mistaken.
But undoubtedly the content is not represented in its purity. This deficiency ma
y be made plain, as follows : It is said that in proving anything a man remains
cold ; he has to do with an objective content. He may indeed perceive that such-
and-such a thing exists, but the knowledge thus reached is external, the insight
thus gained remains something merely external. Such a process of thought, it is
said, is too objective ; it is cold conviction ; this kind of insight is not in
the heart, and it is in the heart and its feelings that convictions must exist.

In this charge of deficiency it is implied that this very process of thought is

to be our own elevation ; that we are not to behave as if we were contemplating
a connection of external determinations, but that it is the feeling, believing s
pirit, Spirit in fact, which is to rise or be elevated. Spiritual movement, the
movement of our self, of our knowledge, is to be in it too, and we miss that whe
n we speak of it as an external connection of determinations.
The elevation and the movement of the objective content, however, actually come
to form one process, namely, in Thought. I, in so far as I think, am myself this
passing over, or transition, this spiritual movement, and as this movement we h
ave now to consider Thought. To begin with, however, it is empirical observation
and reflexion.
(b.) Mediated knowledge as Observation and as Reflection,
Those who take up this, standpoint, which indeed is peculiar to the present time
, proceed in accordance with the methods of empirical psychology, accept what is
found in ordinary consciousness, and accept it as it is found there, observe th
e phenomena, and place outside of consciousness what is the Infinite in consciou
sness.
Religion, from this point of view, is the consciousness men have of a Higher, of
something beyond the present, outside of themselves, and existing above themsel
ves ; that is to say, consciousness finds itself dependent, finite, and in this
its experience it is in so far consciousness, that it presupposes an Other, on w
hich it is dependent, and which is held by it to be its true Essence, since it i
s itself characterised as the negative or finite.
This observation or reflection, if we look at it in the first place in its gener
al form, is seen to develop itself in the following shape :
In consciousness, in so far as I have knowledge of an object, and am reflected i
nto myself as in contrast to it, I know the object as the Other of myself, and c
onsequently know myself by means of the object as limited and finite. We find ou
rselves to be finite ; that is the leading thought here : as to this, there seem
s to be nothing further to say ; everywhere we find an end, the end of one thing
is there where an other begins. Already, in virtue of the fact that we have an
object, we are finite ; where that begins I am not, and thus am finite. We know
ourselves to ba finite under many and various aspects. In its physical aspect, l
ife is finite ; as having life we are externally dependent upon others, we have
wants, &c., and have the consciousness of this limitation. We have this feeling
in common with the lower animals. Plants, minerals, too, are finite, but these h
ave no feeling of their limitation ; it is the prerogative of what is living to
know its limitation, and still more is it a prerogative of the Spiritual. What h
as life has experience of fear, dread, hunger, thirst, &c. There is an interrupt
ion in its feeling of self, a negation ; and the feeling of this is actually pre
sent. If it be said that religion is based upon this feeling of dependence, then
the lower animals too must have religion. For man this limitation only exists i
n so far as he goes above and beyond it ; the feeling, the consciousness of limi
t, implies that he is above and beyond it. This feeling is a comparison of his n
ature (Natur) with his existence (Dasein) in this moment ; his actual existence
does not adequately correspond to his nature.
For us who are above and beyond its mode of existence, a stone is limited ; for
itself, it is not so ; it is immediately identical with that which it is. That w
hich constitutes its determinate being is not for it Not-Being. An animal's feel
ing of limitation is a comparison of its universality with its actual existence
in this definite moment. An animal, as living, is for itself something universal
; it feels its limitation as negated universality, as want. In like manner, man
is essentially negative unity, identity with himself, and he has the certainty
of unity with himself, the feeling of himself, of his relation to himself. The f
eeling of a negation in himself contradicts this. The subject, too, feels itself
to be a power as against its negation, and removes this accidental element, tha
t is, satisfies its want. All impulses in man, as in the lower animals, are this
affirmation of the self, and the animal thus places itself in opposition to the
negation in itself. Life consists in the abolition of limitation, and in this i
t reconciles itself with itself. This need in itself at the same time appears as
an object outside of it, over which it obtains mastery, and thus reinstates its
Self.
Thus the limitation of finiteness only exists for us in so far as we are above a
nd beyond it. This reflection is too abstract to be made from the standpoint of
consciousness, which we are now considering, where consciousness, on the contrar
y, remains within its limitation. The object is its Not-Being. That the object i
s thus set down as different from the Ego, implies that it is not that which the
Ego is. I am the finite. Thus the infinite is what is above and beyond the limi
ts ; it is something other than the limited ; it is the unlimited, the infinite.
Thus we have finite and infinite.
This already implies, however, that the two sides are in relation with one anoth
er, and it remains to be seen how this relation determines itself. This is done
in quite a simple way.
This infinite, as being my object, is the Not-finite, Notparticular, Not-limited
, the Universal; the finite in relation to the infinite is posited as the negati
ve, dependent, that which melts away in relation to the infinite. When the two a
re brought together, a unity comes into existence through the abolition and abso
rption of the finite in fact, which cannot maintain itself as against the infini
te. Expressed in terms of feeling, this condition is that of fear, of dependence
. Such is the relation of the two, but it has another characteristic besides.
On the one hand, I determine myself as the finite; on the other, I am not annihi
lated in the relation, I relate myself to myself. I am, I subsist ; I am also th
e Affirmative. On the one side I know myself as having no real existence ; on th
e other, as affirmative, as having a valid existence, so that the infinite leave
s me my own life. This may be called the goodness of the infinite, as the abroga
tion of the finite may be called its justice, in accordance with which the finit
e must be manifested as finite.
Such is consciousness in this specific form, beyond and above which observation
does not go. It is accordingly maintained that if we go thus far, the whole of r
eligion is contained in what we have here. We can, however, go further ; we can
know that man can know God, but here we are arbitrarily, as it were, brought to
a halt ; or, since we wish to observe and nothing more, it is supposed that we m
ust continue to remain in this particular phase of consciousness. Observation ca
n only exercise itself on the subject, and cannot go further, since it purposes
to go to work only empirically, to adhere to what is immediately present, to wha
t is given, and God is not anything that permits of being made the subject of ob
servation. Here, therefore, the object can only be what is in us as such, and wh
at we are as finite beings. From this point of view God determines himself as th
e Infinite only, as the Other of the finite, as what is beyond it. In so far as
He is, I am not. In so far as He touches me, the finite shrinks into nothing. Go
d is thus characterised as involving an antithesis which seems absolute. The fin
ite, it is said, cannot grasp, attain to, or understand the Infinite. Beyond thi
s standpoint, it is said, we cannot go. We are told that ill it we have everythi
ng that we need to know concerning God and religion, and what is beyond that, is
" of evil." It might, indeed, be stated in reply, as matter of observation, tha
t we can know God, that we have some knowledge of a rich manifestation of His li
fe and spiritual nature. That, however, according to the view just indicated, wo
uld be " of evil."
If a man has placed himself at the standpoint of empirical procedure, of observa
tion, it is quite true that he cannot go further, for to observe means to keep t
he content of observation before one in an external way. But this externality or
limitation is the finite, which is external in reference to an Other, and this
Other is as the Infinite, what is beyond and above it. If I now go further, and
begin to consider the matter from a spiritually higher standpoint of consciousne
ss, I find myself no longer observing, but I forget myself in entering into the
object; I bury myself in it, while I strive to know, to understand God ; I yield
up myself in it, and if I do this, I am no longer in the attitude of empirical
consciousness, of observation. If God be no longer to me a something beyond and
above me, I am no longer a pure observer. In so far, therefore, as a man intends
to observe, he must remain at this standpoint. And this constitutes the entire
wisdom of our time.
Men stop at the finiteness of the subject ; this ranks here as what is highest,
the ultimate, as what is immovable, unchangeable, hard as brass; and then over a
gainst it there is an Other, at which this subject finds its end. This Other, ca
lled God, is a something beyond the present, after which we search owing to the
feeling of our finiteness, but we do nothing more, for our finiteness is fixed a
nd absolute.
The fact of our being above and beyond the limit is, it is true, conceded ; this
going out of ourselves is, however, merely something attempted, a mere yearning
which does not attain to that which it seeks. To reach the object, to know it,
would mean, in fact, to give up my finiteness. But this is what is ultimate, and
is not to be given up, and in it we are complete, satisfied, and are reconciled
 to it.
This entire standpoint must now be looked at more narrowly, and we must see what
constitutes its general character, and estimate what is essential in it.
There is in it the determinateness of my finiteuess, of my relativity. The infin
ite stands over against it, but as something beyond. My affirmation, my determin
ation as existing, alternates with the negation which I am essentially determine
d as being. We shall see that both negation and affirmation come to coincide, an
d the absoluteness of the Ego will be seen to issue as the result.
. There is here on the one hand a going out of my finiteness to a Higher ; on th
e other, I am determined as the negative of this Higher. The latter remains an O
ther, which cannot be determined by me, which is unattained by me, in so far as
determination is to get an objective sense. What is present is only this going o
ut on my part, this aiming to reach what is remote ; I remain on this side, as i
t were, have a yearning after what is beyond the present and actual.
. It is to be remarked that this reaching out towards something beyond the actua
l is absolutely and solely mine. It is my deed, my aiming, my emotion, my desire
and endeavour. If I make use of the predicates all-good, almighty, as character
ising that something beyond, they have a meaning in me only, they have a subject
ive and not an objective meaning, and they belong absolutely and solely to that
aiming of mine. My absolute fixed finiteuess hinders me from reaching that somet
hing beyond. To relinquish my finiteness and to reach it would be one and the sa
me thing. The interest or motive not to reach that something beyond, and the int
erest I have in maintaining myself, are identical.
. It becomes clear from this that the twofold negativity, that of myself as fini
te and that of an Infinite over against me, has its seat in the Ego itself, and
is only, on the one hand, a division in myself the fact, the determination that
I am the negative ; on the other hand, however, the negative is determined as an
"Other" in regard to me. This second determination belongs to me likewise ; the
y represent different tendencies ; one going toward myself and one toward what i
s outside myself the latter of which, however, likewise belongs to me ; my tende
ncy to reach out toward what is beyond and my finiteuess, are determinations in
me ; in them I remain self-contained or at home with myself. Thus, in this way t
he Ego has become affirmative in regard to itself, and it is this which constitu
tes the other side of this standpoint. My affirmation expresses itself thus : "
I am." This is something distinct from my finiteness, and is the annulling of my
finiteness. In respect of the sense of yearning, endeavour, the feeling of obli
gation generally, it means, " I am what I ought to be ; " that is to say, " I am
good by nature ; " that is to say, " I am, and that inasmuch as I am immediatel
y good." In this respect, my sole concern is to maintain myself in this state. T
here is, it is true, also a possibility in me of entering into relation to what
is other than myself, a possibility of sin, of faults, &c. This, however, direct
ly assumes the character of something which is subsequent, something external an
d accidental. " I am," that is a relation to myself, an affirmation ; " I am as
I ought to be," the faultiness is, what the Ego is not ; and that is not in what
constitutes the root of my nature, but is in fact an accidental complication.
This point of view of affirmation may therefore be considered, doubtless, as imp
lying that I stand related to an external element, and that my goodness may be t
arnished. My affirmation in relation to such wrongdoing as is here implied, then
, becomes a mediated one too. It becomes affirmation which recovers itself out o
f such isolation, being mediated through the removal of a faultiness which in it
self is only accidental. The goodness of my nature has returned to identity with
itself. This reconciliation eliminates nothing intrinsic, it does not touch wha
t belongs to my inmost nature, but only does away with what is external. The wor
ld, the finite, reconciles itself in this way with itself. If the truth has hith
erto been expressed by saying that God has reconciled the world with Himself, th
is reconciliation is now seen to take place in me as finite. I, as an individual
, am good ; when I have fallen into error I only need to cast what is accidental
from me and I am reconciled with myself. The inner life is only disturbed on th
e surface ; this disturbance does not reach to its foundation ; the spirit has n
ot formed any relation with it ; it keeps outside of it, and is not implicated i
n it. The inner life, the spirit, is what is originally good, and the negative d
oes not get its specific character within the nature of the spirit itself.
In the older theology, on the contrary, you had the idea of eternal damnation. T
his presupposed that the will was absolutely free. According to this, what I am
depends not upon my nature, but upon my self-conscious will: I am guilty through
the will. Thus my nature, what I originally am, is not goodness ; I can attribu
te no goodness to myself outside of my will : that quality pertains only to my s
elf-conscious spirit. Here, on the other hand, it is the goodness of the origina
l state only which is assumed, and the effects produced on it by what is other t
han itself are done away with through the restoration of what is original. To th
is goodness of the original state nothing further can be added than the knowledg
e of it the conviction of the belief in one's goodness; and that reconciling med
iation consists merely in this consciousness, this knowledge that I am by nature
good, and is consequently a worthless and empty see-saw system. I swing myself,
so to speak, over into a longing for and in the direction o'f the " Beyond," or
, it may be, into a recognition of the faults I have committed; and again I swin
g myself within the limits of this longing and emotion which have their place pu
rely within me, back to myself, and in all this I never travel beyond myself.
This is the abstract characterisation of this attitude.

Were it further developed, all the views characteristic of the present time woul
d coincide with it, as, for example, that goodness exists only in my conviction,
and that upon this conviction my morality is based ; and again, that what is go
od rests or depends entirely upon my nature. My conviction is sufficient so far
as I am concerned. That I know the action to be good is enough, so far as I am c
oncerned. There is no need for having a further consciousness of the substantial
or essential nature of the action. If, however, it depend upon that consciousne
ss alone, I can, strictly speaking, commit no fault at all, for to myself I am o
nly affirmative, while the division or dualism remains formal, a semblance of di
vision, which does not disturb my essential inner life. My yearning, my emotion,
is what is substantial. This point of view embraces all the opinions of recent
times since the Kantian philosophy, which was the first to advance this belief i
n goodness.
Such is the standpoint of subjective consciousness. This consciousness develops
the antitheses which concern consciousness, but which remain in it, and which it
holds under its control, because it is the Affirmative.
We have now to consider what finiteness itself is, and what true relation the fi
nite has to the infinite. That the human spirit is finite we hear daily affirmed
. We shall speak of finiteness in the popular sense first, the sense suggested w
hen it is said that man is finite, and then we shall use it in the true sense, w
hich represents the rational view of it.
There are three forms in which finiteness appears, namely, in sensuous existence
, in reflection, and in the mode in which it exists in Spirit and for Spirit,
(a.) Finiteness in Sensuous Existence.
That man is finite means, in the first place, that I as man stand in relation to
what is other than myself. There is actually present an Other, the negative of
myself, with which I am in connection, and that constitutes my finiteness. We ar
e mutually exclusive, and are independent in relation to each other. Such I am i
n virtue of my having sensuous experience ; all that is living is thus exclusive
. In hearing and seeing I have only what is individual before me, and in my prac
tical relation to things I have always to do with what is only single or individ
ual ; the objects which give me satisfaction are in like manner individual. This
is the standpoint of natural Being, of natural existence. According to this I e
xist in manifold relations, in external Being of a manifold kind, in the region
of experiences, needs, practical and theoretical relations, all of which, accord
ing to their content, are limited and dependent, finite, in short. The annulling
of what is finite is already found to have its place within this finiteness ; e
very impulse as subjective relates itself to what is Other than itself, is finit
e ; but in satisfying itself it annuls this relation, this finite character. Thi
s return into its affirmation is its satisfaction. On the other hand, however, i
t remains finite, for the satisfied impulse reawakens, and the annulling of the
negation ngain becomes a sense of need. Satisfaction, this infinitely recurring
feeling, is only an infinitude of form, and therefore is not a truly concrete in
finitude. The content remains finite, and thus the satisfaction remains finite t
oo, just as the need as such involves defect and is finite. According to the for
mer side, however, the need annuls its finiteness when it satisfies itself. The
satisfaction of hunger is an annulling of the separation between me and my objec
t, it is an annulling of finiteness, yet only a formal annulling.
Nature is not complete and independent, does not exist in and for itself; on the
contrary, it is just this fact of its being something which is not self-posited
which constitutes its finiteness. Our sensuous consciousness, too, in so far as
we have to do in it with singulars or particulars, belongs to this natural fini
teness, and this latter has to manifest itself. The finite is determined as the
negative, it must free itself from itself. This first natural, simple self-emanc
ipation of the finite from its finiteness is death. This is the renunciation of
the finite, and here what natural life is itself implicitly is made explicit rea
lly and actually. The sensuous life of what is individual or particular has its
end in death. Particular experiences or sensations as particular are transient ;
one supplants the other, one impulse or passion drives away another. In its ann
ihilation, this sensuous element makes its true nature actually explicit. In dea
th the finite is shown to be annulled and absorbed. But death is only the abstra
ct negation of what is implicitly negative ; it is itself a nullity, it is revea
led nullity. But explicit nullity is at the same time nullity which has been don
e away with, and is the return to the Positive. Here cessation, liberation from
finiteness comes in. Death does not present itself to consciousness as this eman
cipation from finiteness, but this higher view of death is found in thought, and
indeed even in popular conceptions, in so far as thought is active in them.
(/.) Finiteness from the point of view of Reflection.
We now rise out of immediate consciousness to the level of Eeflection and here w
e have again to do with a finitude which appears in definite contrast to infinit
ude.
This antithesis has different forms, and the question is what these are. There i
s an emancipation from finiteness here, but in this sphere the true infinity is
as yet only abrogated or annulled Jiniteness. And, therefore, the question arise
s, Does reflection get the length of positing the finite as something which is i
n itself null, or does reflection accomplish as much as nature ? Can reflection
make that die which is mortal, or is that which is null immortal to it ? Since i
t is null we ought to cause it to variish, for what is possible to nature must b
e yet more possible to infinite spirit. Thus reflection, like nature, exhibits t
he finite as null. But nature always falls back again into the finite, and in li
ke manner what constitutes the standpoint of reflection is that it persists in h
olding fast the antithesis, the finiteness, as against infinitude. It is just th
e mutual relation of these two which constitutes the standpoint of reflection ;
both of them belong to the antithesis which characterises this standpoint. That
is to say, advance is made to the infinite only as the abstract negation of the
finite, as the not-finite, which, however, as not containing the finite in itsel
f as part of itself, remains over against the finite as an Other, and so itself
a finite, which finite again advances to an infinite, and so on ad infinitum.
(a.a.) The externality or mutual exclusion of finiteness and universality.
If we consider the first antithesis of finite and infinite in Eeflection, finite
ness is a varied, manifold externality, of which each component part is particul
ar or limited. In contrast to this, the manifoldness determines itself in its un
iversality, its unlimitedness, as the Universal in this multiplicity. This form
presents itself thus in a concrete shape in our consciousness.
We have knowledge of many things, but always of single things only. As desiring
or willing, the spirit is determined in accordance with particular ends and inte
rests. But in both relations, whether forming ideas or willing, the spirit behav
es as exclusive particularity, and, therefore, stands in connection with other i
ndependent things. Here, too, the element of contrast comes in, for the spirit c
ompares its actually existing singularity with its singularity as universally de
termined or conceived. I compare the stores of knowledge which I actually posses
s with the mass of knowledge of which I form an idea. I find that these two, nam
ely my actuality, and the universality of which I form a conception, do not corr
espond with each other, and it is made imperative that the actual quantity of kn
owledge should be further advanced and perfected, made exhaustive, and brought t
o universality In like manner, it is possible in practical life to plan to reach
a universality of satisfaction, completeness of impulse and of enjoyment, and t
hen to name this felicity. The one totality is called universality of knowledge,
the other totality that of possession, of satisfaction, of desire, of enjoyment
. But here the totality is thought of as multiplicity and allness only, and it,
therefore, remains in contrast with the finiteness, which cannot possess all. Th
us the Ego is still something exclusive over against something exclusive, and, t
herefore, the many is absolutely exclusive in relation to another many ; and all
is merely an abstraction which we apply to much or the many, but which remains
external to it. Thus it is found that the range of knowledge has no limits, and
that the flight from star to star is limitless. It may indeed be supposed that n
atural science may get to know all animals, yet not so as to be able to penetrat
e into their most subtle characteristics. It is the same with the satisfaction o
f impulses : man may attain to many interests and ends, but not to all or not to
happiness itself; allness is an ideal which cannot be reached. This finiteness
remains, just because it is a something that is true. The untrue is the unity or
universality ; the multiplicity would have to yield up its character, in order
to be posited under unity. The ideal is, therefore, unattainable, just because i
t is untrue in itself, a unity of many, which are at the same time to remain man
ifold and separate. Further, the end, the ideal, on this side of which a man sto
ps short, is itself something essentially finite, and for this very reason I mus
t stop short on this side of it, for in reaching it I should still only reach wh
at is finite.
(/./.) The antithesis of the finite and the infinite.
We have now to consider the form of the antithesis of the finite and infinite, a
s it is seen in Eeflection as such. This is finitude in contrast to infinitude,
each being posited for itself, posited independently, not merely as predicate, b
ut as an essential antithesis, and in such a way that the one is determined as t
he other of the other. And "here, too, finiteness remains, and just for this rea
son, that the infinite which stands over against it is itself a finite, and a fi
nite in fact which is posited as the other of the first or finite. Only the true
infinite, which posits itself as finite, overlaps itself so to speak as its Oth
er, and remains in it, because it is its own other in unity with itself. But if
the one, the infinite, be only defined as the not-many, not-finite, it remains o
n the other side beyond the many and the finite ; and thus the many of the finit
e itself is likewise left standing on its own account without being able to atta
in to its something beyond.
It is now time to inquire whether this antithesis has truth in it, that is to sa
y, whether these two sides drop apart, and exist as mutually exclusive. With reg
ard to this it has been said already that when we posit the finite as finite, we
are above and beyond it. In the limitation we have a limit but only inasmuch as
we are above and beyond it, it is no longer the affirmative. Just because we ar
e at it, conscious of it, we are no longer at it.
The finite relates itself to the infinite ; each is exclusive with regard to the
other. Considered more closely, the finite is regarded as that which is limited
, its limit being the infinite.
Under the first form one Particular gave limits to an other; here the finite has
its limit in the infinite itself. Now if the finite is limited by the infinite
and stands on one side, the infinite itself is something limited too ; it has it
s boundary in the finite ; it is that which the finite is not ; it has something
which is on the yonder side of it and is thus finite, limited. Thus we have, in
stead of the Highest, something which is a Finite. We have not what we desire, w
e have in this infinite only a finite. Or if it be said, on the other hand, that
the infinite is not limited, then the finite, too, is not limited. Aud if it be
not limited, then it is not different from, the infinite, but merges in it, is
identical with it in infinitude, as it was before in finitude. Such is the abstr
act nature of this antithesis. It is necessary to retain this in the mind ; to h
old it fast is of absolute importance all through in regard to all forms of refl
ective consciousness and of philosophy. The antithesis itself vanishes when the
two sides are absolutely opposed ; both sides of the relation vanish into empty
moments and that which is and remains is the unity of the two, in which they are
abrogated and preserved.
The finite conceived of in its more concrete form is the Ego, and the infinite i
s at first what is beyond this finite, its negative. As the negative of the nega
tive, however, the infinite is the affirmative. Consequently it is to the infini
te that we ascribe affirmation, that which has being, what is beyond in relation
to the Ego, to my self-consciousness, to my consciousness, as power, as will. B
ut it has been remarked that it is the Ego itself which has here to begin with d
efined what is beyond as the affirmative ; with this, however, that Ego is place
d in contrast, the Ego, that is, which we before defined as the affirmative, in
short, " I am immediate ; I am one with myself."
If consciousness determines itself as finite, and if beyond it is the infinite,
this Ego makes the same reflection which we have made, namely, that that infinit
e is only a vanishing infinite, only a thought posited by myself. I am the one w
ho produces that something beyond, and I determine myself by means of it as fini
te. Both are my product, in me they vanish ; I am lord and master of this determ
ination, and thus the second fact is posited, namely, that /am the affirmative w
hich is placed beyond, I am the negation of the negation, I am that in which the
antithesis vanishes, I am the act of reflection which annihilates both. The Ego
thus, by means of its own act of reflection, destroys those self-dissolving ant
itheses. (..) The absolute maintenance of the finite in reflection.
Having now reached this point, we desire to see how it fares with the finite, wh
ether it is possible to get away from it in a real and actual way, and whether i
t secures its right, the right, namely, to become truly abrogated and absorbed,
to divest itself of finiteness, or whether it remains in its finiteness, and get
s the form of the infinite merely because the infinite is a finite as contrasted
 with it. It would seem here as if reflection did not mean to leave standing wha
t is for it a nonentity, and as if self-consciousness meant to deal seriously wi
th its finiteness, and really to divest itself of it. That, however, is precisel
y what does not happen here. It makes a mere show of doing this. What occurs her
e is rather that the finite maintains itself ; I cling to myself, I do not give
up my nullity, but make myself infinite therein, constitute myself an active ope
rative infinite. What we have therefore here is that the finite Ego, inasmuch as
it is the positing of an infinite beyond itself, has posited the infinite itsel
f as a finite, and is therein identical with itself as that which is in like man
ner finite, and now as being identical with the infinite becomes infinite itself
. This is the culminating point of subjectivity, which clings fast to itself, th
e finiteness which remains and renders itself infinite in its very finiteness, t
he infinite subjectivity, which has done with all content. But this very subject
ivity, this culmination of finiteness still maintains itself ; in it all content
evaporates, and is rendered vain ; the only thing that does not vanish, however
, is this vanity. This culmination has the appearance of being a renunciation of
the finite, but it is just in it that finiteness, as such still maintains itsel
f. Speaking more definitely, abstract self-consciousness, pure thought, is as it
were the absolute power of negativity to make short work with everything, but t
he power which still maintains itself as this definite Ego, while it yields up t
he whole of finitude, and yet expresses this finite as infinitude, as the univer
sal affirmative. What is wanting here is objectivity. In true renunciation all d
epends on whether this culmination of subjectivity still has an object.
The standpoint which has been considered is reflection in its completeness, the
abstract subjectivity, the Ego, the absolute idealiser, that for which all disti
nction, determination, content is annulled, or exists only as posited by it. I a
m that which determines, and I alone, and I am this as the individual unit, as t
he immediate self, as I, who am immediate.
lu all content I am immediate relation or reference to myself, that is to say, I
am Being, and this I am as particularity, as the relation of negativity to itse
lf. That which is posited by me is posited as distinct from me as the negative,
and thus as negated, as only posited. I am, consequently, immediate negativity.
Thus I, this exclusive Ego, in my state of immediacy, that is to say, in my feel
ings, opinions, in the caprice and contingency of my feeling and willing, am the
affirmative in general, am good. All objective content, law, truth, duty vanish
for me. I recognise nothing, nothing that is objective, no truth. God, the Infi
nite, is for me something beyond this world, something held aloof from me. I alo
ne am the Positive, and no content has value on its own account, it has no longe
r affirmation in itself, but only in so far as I lay it down. The True and the G
ood exist in my conviction only, and all that is needful in order that a thing b
e good is this conviction, this recognition of mine. In this ideality of all det
erminations or categories I alone am the Eeal. This attitude at first gives itse
lf out to be that of humility, and what such humility consists in is this, that
the Ego shuts out from itself the Infinite, the knowledge and rational apprehens
ion of God, renounces it, and characterises itself in reference to it as finite.
But in so doing this humility contradicts itself ; it is pride rather, for I sh
ut out the truth from myself, and take up the position that I as this particular
unit actually here, am alone the affirmative, and am what has absolute Being, i
n presence of which all else vanishes away. True humility, on the contrary, reno
unces itself, renounces its particular existence and its claim to be the affirma
tive, and recognises the True, that which has absolute Being, as alone the affir
mative. In contrast to this, that false humility, while it recognises the finite
as the negative, the limited, makes it at the same time the only Affirmative, I
nfinite, and Absolute. I, this particular unit, alone am the sole essentiality,
that is to say, I, this finite, am the infinite. The infinite, declared to be wh
at is beyond the present and actual, is posited only through me. In this determi
nation the unity of the finite and infinite is contained, but a unity of such a
kind that the finite is not merged in it, but has become what is fixed, absolute
, perennial. This unity being posited by means of the finite Ego, the unity itse
lf becomes a finite unity. The Ego simulates humility, while in fact it is infla
ted beyond measure with vain and empty pride. On the other hand, since the knowl
edge of something higher disappears, and only subjective emotion, mere good plea
sure is left, there is no objective common element to bind individuals together,
and in presence of the unlimited diversity in their feeling, their mutual attit
ude is one of enmity, hatred, and contempt.
The difficulty of getting a grasp of this point of view is owing to the fact tha
t in this aspect of it, the extreme, culminating point of finite subjectivity, w
hich is devoid of all content, posits itself as absolute.
The first difficulty which presents itself is, that it is just such an abstracti
on as has been described ; the second lies in the fact of its approximation to t
he philosophical Notion. It borders on the philosophical standpoint, for it is t
he highest point of reflection. It contains expressions which, regarded superfic
ially, appear to be the same as those which belong to philosophy. It contains id
eality, negativity, subjectivity, and all this is, considered in itself, a true
and essential moment of freedom and of the Idea. Further, it contains the unity
of the finite and infinite ; and this is true also of the Idea. It is undoubtedl
y subjectivity, which develops all objectivity out of itself, and consequently t
ransmutes itself as form into content, and only becomes true form by means of it
s true content. Notwithstanding this, what thus seems to approach most nearly to
the Idea is furthest off from it. This ideality, this fire in which all determi
nations consume themselves, is at this point of view still uncompleted negativit
y. " I," as immediate, as this unit, am the sole reality ; all remaining determi
nations are posited as ideal, are burnt up. I alone maintain myself, and all det
erminations are valid, only if I will it so. The only determination which posses
ses validity is that of myself, and that everything is posited and exists only t
hrough me. The Ideality is not thoroughly carried through ; this last culminatin
g point still contains what must be negated ; it must be shown that I, as this u
nit, am not possessed of truth, of reality. I myself alone remain positive, notw
ithstanding that everything is to become affirmative through negation only. And
thus this position contradicts itself, for it posits ideality as a principle, an
d that which brings about the ideality is itself not ideal.
The unity of the finite and infinite, which is made explicit in reflection, is u
ndoubtedly a definition of the Idea, but of such a kind that the infinite is the
positing of itself as what is finite, while the finite is the finite of itself,
and is owing to this abrogation, the negation of its negation. Consequently, it
is the infinite, but it is this infinite only as the positing of itself within
itself as the finite, and the abrogation of this finiteness as such. From the su
bjective point of view, on the contrary, this unity is still posited in one-side
dness,for it is posited by the finite itself, and is still uuder the form of fin
iteness. I, this finite unit, am the infinite. Consequently this infinitude is i
tself finitude. This particularity of my finite being my immediate personality h
as yet to be separated from this affirmation, from this infinite. It is Eeflecti
on itself which is par excellence what separates ; but here it neglects its func
tion of separating and distinguishing, and anives at a unity which is, however,
only a finite unity. Eeflection here fails to disjoin the immediate particularit
y of the Ego, of the individual unit, from the Infinite and Affirmative. And ins
tead of merging the individual, which in itself is without support, in universal
ity and getting a grasp of affirmation in its absolute universality in which it
includes the individual, it conceives of particularity itself as being in an imm
ediate way the universal. Here lies the deficiency of this point of view. Contra
dictions can only be criticised if we trace them back to the ultimate thought on
which they rest.
Such is the standpoint of the present time, and philosophy enters into a peculia
r relation with it. If we compare this point of view with the religious ideas of
 earlier times, we easily observe that this religious consciousness had formerly
a content existing on its own account, a content which defined the nature of Go
d. It was the point of view of truth and of dignity. The highest duty was to kno
w God, to worship Him in spirit and in truth ; and the salvation or perdition, t
he absolute worth or worthlessness of man was bound up with his knowledge of thi
s content, and his acceptance of it as true. At the present day to know truth, t
o know God, is not regarded as man's highest endeavour, and consequently right a
nd duty are unknown. All objective content has evaporated, arid all that is left
is this pure, formal subjectivity. This point of view expressly implies that I
am by nature good ; not that I am good by means of my own act, or by means of my
will, but that I am good in being unconscious. The opposite position implies on
the contrary that I am only good by means of my self-conscious spiritual activi
ty, by my freedom. It is not originally and by nature that I am good ; on the co
ntrary, my goodness must arise in my consciousness ; it belongs to my spiritual
world ; the grace of God has its work here, but my co-operation as consciousness
as my exercise of will is also necessarily involved. According to the prevalent
view, my being good is a matter of my caprice and pleasure, for everything is p
osited through me.
In contemplating this remarkable contradiction in religious opinion, we have to
recognise the fact that a tremendous revolution has taken place in the Christian
world. An entirely new self-consciousness in reference to the True has appeared
. All duty, all that is right, depends upon the innermost consciousness, upon th
e point of view of religious self-consciousness, springs from the root of .the s
pirit, and this is the basis of all actuality. Yet it is only when it is the for
m for an objective content that the selfconscious spirit has truth. From this po
int of view, on the contrary, which has no content in it, no religion whatever i
s possible, for it is I who am the affirmative, while the Idea which has absolut
e Being must in religion be established purely through itself and not through me
. Here, therefore, there can be no religion, any more than from the standpoint o
f sensuous consciousness.
Philosophy is in this connection regarded as something special. If general cultu
re is given a place in consciousness, then philosophy is a special calling or bu
siness, a manner of regarding things which is outside of ordinary interests, it
is a calling which has a special place of its own. And thus the Philosophy of Re
ligion too, according to the prevalent view, is something which cannot have a me
aning for society in general, but must rather expect to meet with opposition and
enmity from every side.
If accordingly the first relation of the finite to the infinite was the natural
and untrue one, because the multitude and multiplicity of particularity were hel
d fast as against universality, and if we have seen, further, that the second re
lation is that found in reflection, where finiteness lies in the wholly complete
d abstraction of pure thought, which does not really get to conceive of itself a
s universal, but remains as " I," as " this unit ; " we have now to consider tha
t relation as it reveals itself in reason.
(y.) The rational way of looking at finiteness.
This position is to be considered in the first place in its relation to the form
of Eeflection at its climax. The transition from that standpoint must by its ve
ry nature be dialectical, and must be so made. This, however, belongsto logic. W
e shall proceed to present it in a concrete manner, and as regards the necessity
of the transition shall only appeal to the consequences which follow from this
standpoint. According to it, I as finite am a nullity, which is to be annulled,
but yet this annulling is all the same not effected or completed if this immedia
te individuality at the same time remains, and remains in such a way that this "
I " alone becomes the affirmative, in the form given to it by the standpoint of
Reflection. The finite, which exalts itself to the infinite, is mere abstract i
dentity, inherently empty, the supreme form of untruth, falsehood, and evil. A s
tandpoint must therefore be shown where the Ego in this individuality renounces
itself in deed and in truth. I must be particular subjectivity which is in very
truth annulled, and thus something objective must be recognised by me which is a
ctually regarded by me as true, and which I recognise as the Affirmative, posite
d for me, in which I am negated as this particular Ego, but in which my freedom
is at the same time maintained. The freedom of reflection is of such a kind that
it permits of nothing originating in it, and since it must allow of origination
, it proceeds when it posits anything, without law and order ; that is to say, p
ermits nothing objective to originate. If something objective is to be really re
cognised, it is requisite that I should be determined as universal, and should m
aintain myself, reckon myself as universal only. Now this is none other than the
point of view of thinking reason, and religion itself is this action, this acti
vity of the thinking reason, and of the man who thinks rationally, who as indivi
dual posits himself as the Universal, and annulling himself as individual, finds
his true self to be the Universal. Philosophy is in like manner thinking reason
, only that this action in which religion consists appears in philosophy in the
form of thought, while religion as, so to speak, reason thinking naively, stops
short in the sphere of general ideas or ordinary thought.
The general characteristics, the more precise forms of thought belonging to this
point of view, have now to be noticed.
It is said first of all that subjectivity relinquishes its individuality in the
object in recognising an Objective in general. This object cannot be anything se
nsuous. I know the sensuous object ; no doubt in sense the thing is for me somet
hing which persists objectively, but my freedom is not in it as yet. The untrue
nature of the sensuous consciousness must be taken for granted here. The necessa
ry determination is that this Objective as true, and affirmative, is determined
as an universal. In this recognition of an Object, of an Universal, I renounce m
y finiteness, I renounce myself as this individual unit. What is valid for me is
the Universal, and a universal would not exist if I were maintained as this ind
ividual unit. This is apparent, too, in immediate knowledge of God ; I have a kn
owledge of the objectively universal, which has an absolute essential existence
; but since there is only an immediate relation here, and reflection does not ye
t enter in, this Universal, this object of the Universal, is itself something me
rely subjective, to which that essential and independent objectivity is wanting.
The reflection finally arrived at accordingly is only this, that these determin
ations are planted in feeling alone, and are locked up in the subjective conscio
usness, which has not as yet renounced its immediate particularity, so that this
determination of the objective Universal, as such, is not as yet adequate. In o
rder to this, it is requisite that the abstract Universal should have a content
as well, should have determinations or attributes in itself. Not till then can i
t be present to me as essentially existing. If it be empty, the determinateness
exists only in my supposition ; it belongs to me, all content, all activity, all
vitality remain in myself, the determining and the objectifying are mine alone.
I have only a dead, an empty God, a so-called Highest Being, and this emptiness
, this idea, remains subjective only, and does not attain to true objectivity. A
t this last standpoint we get certainty only, there is no truth ; and I may perf
ectly well remain here characterised as this unit, as the finite. The objectivit
y in that case is a mere semblance of objectivity.
It is not for philosophy alone that the object is full of content. This feature
is common to both philosophy and religion ; here there is as yet no difference i
n their point of view.
Closely connected with this is the question : How is the subject determined here
? The subject is characterised, in relation to the recognised object, as thinki
ng. Thought is the activity of the Universal, having an Universal as its object.
By the Universal here is meant the purely absolute Universal. The relation to s
uch an object is therefore the thought of the subject ; the object is the Essenc
e, that which exists for the subject. The thought is not merely subjective, but
also objective.
In thinking, reflecting about the true object, I am subjective, I have my though
ts about it. But equally in thinking the object, thinking the thought of it, the
relation of my personality towards it as something particular is got rid of, an
d I assume an objective attitude ; I have renounced myself as an individual, ren
ounced rny particularity, and am universal. To do this and to think that the Uni
versal is my object, are one and the same. Here I renounce myself actually and r
eally. Working and living in objectivity is the true confession of finiteness, i
s' real humility.
It may be remarked that it is an essential characteristic of thought that it is
mediated action or activity, mediated Universality, which as negation of negatio
n is affirmation. It is mediation by the annulling of mediation. Universality, S
ubstance, for instance, are thoughts which exist only through negation of the ne
gation. Thus the mode of immediacy is contained here, but no longer it only. And
hence the expression that we have immediate knowledge of God : knowledge is pur
e activity, and only negates the impure, the immediate. "We can know God in an e
mpirical manner; this universal Object is then immediately before me without dem
onstration. This immediacy in the empirical subject is itself partly a result of
much mediation, and partly it is only one phase of this activity. A difficult p
iece of music can be played with ease after it has been gone through by feequent
repetition of single passages ; it is played with immediate activity as the res
ult of so many mediatory actions. The same is the case with habit, which has bec
ome like a second nature to us. The simple result seen in the discovery of Colum
bus was the consequence of many detached acts and deliberations, which had prece
ded it.
The nature of such an activity is different from its outward appearance. Thus th
e nature of thought is this identity with itself, this pure transparency of the
activity, which in itself is negation of the negative. Thought is the result whi
ch renders itself immediate, which appears as immediate.
I am therefore determined in relation to the object as thinking; and not in phil
osophy merely, but also in religion in its affirmative form, in devotion, which
has its origin in thinking and in what is thought, does God exist for me. This t
hinking of the Universal, then, is a mode of my existence as pure thinking. What
is further to be observed is that in devotion, in this relation to the universa
l Substance, I arn reflected upon myself. I distinguish myself from this Object,
and it from myself, for I have to yield myself up. In this lies the consciousne
ss of myself; and in so far as I merely perform the act of devotion in yielding
myself up to God, I am at the same time only as it were a reflection out of God
into myself. How then am I determined in this respect, " I," who again appear ?
Here I am determined as finite in the true manner, finite as distinguished from
this Object, as the particular over against the universal, as the accidental in
reference to this Substance, as a moment, as something distinguished, which at t
he same time is not independent, but has renounced itself and knows itself to be
finite. Thus therefore I do not go beyond the consciousness of myself, and this
arises from the fact that the universal Object is now potentially thought and h
as the content within itself ; it is substance in motion within itself, and as a
n inward process in which it begets its content, is not empty, but is absolute f
ulness. All particularity belongs to it ; as universal it overlaps or includes m
e in itself, and thus I look upon myself as finite, as being a moment in this li
fe, as that which has its particular being, its permanent existence in this subs
tance only, and in its essential moments. And thus I am not only potentially but
also actually and really, posited as finite. For that very reason I do not pres
erve myself as immediate, as affirmative.
Having hitherto considered, in a concrete way, the attitude of the Ego to the un
iversal Substance, what now remains to be considered is the abstract relation of
the finite to the infinite generally.
In Reflection, the finite stands opposed to the infinite in such a way that the
finite is doubled. What is true is the indissoluble unity of the two. This it is
which we have just considered in a more concrete form as the relation of the su
bjective Ego to the Universal. The finite is but an essential moment of the infi
nite, the infinite is absolute negativity, that is, affirmation, which however i
s mediation within itself. The simple unity, identity, and abstract affirmation
of the infinite is, in itself, no truth, but rather is it essential that it shou
ld differentiate or break itself up within itself. In this process it is in the
first place affirmation, and then secondly, distinction ; thirdly, the affirmati
on appears as negation of the negation, and thus for the first time as the True.
Nor does the standpoint of the finite represent any more that which is true. On
the contrary it must annul itself, and it is only in this act of negation that
we have what is true. The finite is therefore an essential moment of the infinit
e in the nature of God, jind thus it may be said it is God Himself who renders H
imself finite, who produces determinations within Himself. Now this might at fir
st appear to us to be something unlike a Divine process, but we already have it
in the ordinary ideas about God ; for we are accustomed to believe in Him as the
Creator of the world. God creates a world, God determines ; outside of Him ther
e is nothing to determine. He determines Himself when He thinks Himself, places
an Other over against Himself, when He and a world are two. God creates the worl
d out of nothing ; that is to say, besides the world nothing external exists, fo
r it is itself externality. God alone is ; God, however, only through mediation
of Himself with Himself. He wills the finite ; He Himself posits it as an Other,
and thus Himself becomes an Other than Himself a finite for He has an Other opp
osed to Himself. This " otherness," however, is the contradiction of Himself wit
h Himself. He is thus the finite, in relation to that which is finite. But the t
ruth is that this finiteness is only an appearance, a phenomenal shape in which
He has or possesses Himself. Creation is activity. In this is involved different
iation, separate existence of the finite must in turn annul itself. For it is Go
d's ; it is His Other, and exists notwithstanding in the definite form of the Ot
her of God. It is the Other and the not Other; it dissolves or cancels its own s
elf ; it is not it itself, but an Other, it destroys itself. By this means, howe
ver, the " otherness " has wholly vanished in God, and in it God recognises Hims
elf ; and in this way He maintains Himself for Himself as His own result through
His own act.
In accordance with this way of regarding the matter, the two infinites may now b
e distinguished, namely, the true infinite from the merely bad one of the unders
tanding. Thus, then, the finite is a moment of the Divine life.
(c.) The transition to the speculative conception of religion.
For the logically developed and rational consideration of the finite, the simple
forms of a proposition have no longer any value. God is infinite, I am finite ;
these are false, bad expressions, forms which do not adequately correspond to t
hat which the Idea, the nature of the real object, is. The finite is not that wh
ich is, in like manner the infinite is not fixed ; these determinations are only
moments of the process. It is equally true that God exists as finite and the Eg
o as infinite. The " is" or exists, which is regarded in such propositions as so
mething firmly fixed, has, when understood in its true sense, no other meaning t
han that of activity, vitality, and spirituality.
Nor are predicates adequate for definition here, and least of all those which ar
e one-sided and transient. But, on the contrary, what is true, what is the Idea,
exists only as movement. Thus God is this movement within Himself, and thereby
alone is He the living God. But this separate existence of the finite must not b
e retained ; it must, on the contrary, be abrogated. God is movement towards the
finite, and owing to this He is, as it were, the lifting up of the finite to Hi
mself. In the Ego, as in that which is annulling itself as finite, God returns t
o Himself, and only as this return is He God. Without the world God is not God.
We meet with these abstractions especially among the ancients ; they are product
s of the beginnings of reflecting abstract thought. Plato, however, already reco
gnises the infinite as the bad, and the determinate as what is higher he looks o
n the limit limiting itself in itself as higher than the Unlimited. What is true
is the unity of the infinite, in which the finite is contained.
The result of all this is, that we must get rid of this bugbear of the oppositio
n of finite and infinite. It is customary to frighten us out of the wish to know
God and to have a positive relation to Him, with the bugbear that to seek to ta
ke up any such attitude towards God is presumption, while the objections are bro
ught forward with much unction and edifying language, and with vexatious humilit
y. This presumption, however, is undoubtedly an essential part of philosophy as
well as of religion. From this point of view it is a matter of indifference whet
her I know through thought the content, namely God, or accept it as true on auth
ority, or with the heart, by inner enlightenment, or in any other way. If you ta
ke any of these ways, you are met by this bugbear that it is presumptuous to wis
h to know God, and to comprehend the infinite by means of the finite. We must ri
d ourselves completely of this opposition of finite and infinite, and do it by g
etting an insight into the real state of the case.
The man who does not rid himself of this phantom steeps himself in vanity, for h
e posits the Divine as something which is powerless to come to itself, while he
clings to his own subjectivity, and, taking his stand on this, asserts the impot
ence of his knowledge. This is surely subjective untruth in its real form, the h
ypocrisy which retains the finite, which acknowledges the vanity of the finite,
but yet retains this which it confesses and knows to be vain, and makes it into
the Absolute, while in so doing it holds aloof from rational knowledge, and from
substantial objective religion and religious life, and either destroys them, or
prevents them from making their influence felt.
In losing ourselves in the true object itself, we escape from this vanity of the
self-maintaining subjectivity, from this Ego, and make serious work with vanity
. This follows as a consequence of what was accomplished in the science of logic
.
The negative relation of consciousness to the Absolute is commonly based upon ob
servation ; for consciousness, it is said, only the finite exists. The infinite,
on the other hand, is devoid of determinate character (and consequently, as we
have seen, is implicitly only, subjective), and consciousness has a merely negat
ive relation to it. Because there is only this relation in observation, it is no
w argued that it is impossible to know the Absolute, the Truth. A few remarks mu
st be made upon this position.
If possibility and impossibility be taken in so far as they have a definite mean
ing, they both have reference to the kernel, to the Notion of an object, that wh
ich it essentially is. Their meaning must therefore be decided by the nature of
the Notion itself. From the point of view of consciousness as observing from thi
s point of view of observation the inner nature, the Notion, cannot be discussed
, for that point of view renounces the knowledge of what concerns the kernel or
inner element of the object ; it has only before it that which is included in th
e sphere of external consciousness as such. Thus possibility and impossibility h
ave no place in this sphere of thought.
Those who occupy this position, however, assert that it is just what is, that is
to say, what enters into this particular perceiving consciousness, which gives
the standard of possibility, and that from this we get the conception of possibi
lity or impossibility. What contradicts experience is impossible.
In regard to this it is to be remarked that this observation limits itself arbit
rarily to the sphere of the finite consciousness. There are, however, other sphe
res besides which may be observed ; not merely those whose content is only finit
e in relation to what is finite, but those too where the Divine is in consciousn
ess as something existing in and for itself. The affirmative consciousness of th
e Absolute in the form of simple, natural religious life, of devotion, or in the
form of philosophical knowledge, may also be observed, and yield a quite differ
ent result from that supplied by the position of finite consciousness, whether t
he observing subject observe these higher forms of consciousness in others or in
himself. For wrong as this point of view is, it may well be that religious expe
rience is more affirmative and more full of content than consciousness ; there m
ay be more in the heart than in the consciousness, in so far as it is definite,
rational, observing consciousness ; the two may be distinct. All depends on the
adjustment of the rational or cognitive element in consciousness to what I am in
my true essential nature as Spirit.
But the conviction that the spirit has only a negative relation to God, ruins an
d destroys feeling, devotion, the religious attitude, in fact. For thought is th
e source of the Universal, the region in which the Universal generally in which
God is ; the Universal is in thought and for thought. Spirit in its freedom only
, that is, as thinking, has the content of Divine truth, and supplies it to expe
rience ; its content constitutes the worth of experience in respect of all true
devotion and piety. If a man in the exercise of conscious thought holds fast to
the position that no affirmative relation to God exists, then all content at onc
e goes out of experience ; as that sphere makes itself empty, so experience beco
mes hollow too, just as I cannot see without light from outside. If the content
be negated or driven away from this region, there is no longer present that whic
h can supply the true qualities of experience. If, therefore on the one hand, it
must be conceded, as above, that there may be more in devotion than in religiou
s consciousness, it is on the other hand an evidence of caprice or clumsiness wh
en that which is present in a man himself or in others, is not observed. Properl
y speaking, however, this caprice, this clumsiness or want of skill, does not ma
ke its first appearance here, for if a man is only to observe, observation there
by is limited to the field of finiteness. To observe means, to place oneself in
relation to something external, which is in observation to remain external, and
this is only posited in so far as it is external to oneself, and is thus finite.
Therefore, if any one occupy such a standpoint, he has before him only what is
worthy of this standpoint, and appropriate to it.
If observation would observe the infinite in accordance with its true nature, it
must itself be infinite ; that is, it must no longer be observation of the true
object, but the object itself. Speculative thought may be observed too, but thi
s observation is only for the thinker himself. In like manner, religion is only
for the religious man ; that is, for him who at the same time is what he observe
s. There is no such thing as mere observation here : the observer is, on the con
trary, in such a relation to the object, that his observation is not purely exte
rnal ; he is not a simple observer, is not merely in a negative relation to that
which he observes.
From this it follows that in order to find the true seat of religion we must rel
inquish the attitude of the observer ; we must abandon this empirical point of v
iew, for the very reason that it is only empirical, and because it has, as we sa
w, annulled itself by its own act. Reflection possesses, it is true, the relatio
n of the finite to the infinite ; this, however, is only posited as a negation.
Reflection proceeds, indeed, to advance a claim to posite the finite as infinite
, but it has been shown that this claim must only be in relation to the affirmat
ive ; that is to say, in observation the finite is made infinite, although it st
ill remains, and is firmly retained, as finite. And yet at the same time the dem
and is made that the finite shall be abrogated.
Now, however, that the finite and the standpoint of reflection have annulled the
mselves, we have reached the standpoint of infinite observation and of the specu
lative Notion, namely, the sphere in which the true notion or conception of reli
gion will unfold itself before us.
. The Speculative Notion or Conception of Religion.
Reason is the region in which alone religion can be at home. The fundamental con
ception here is the affirmative attitude of consciousness which is only possible
as negation of negation, as the self-abrogation of the determinations of the an
tithesis, which are taken by Reflection as persistent. The basis of religion is
in so far this rational, or to speak more precisely, this speculative element. R
eligion, however, is not merely something so abstract ; it is not merely such an
affirmative attitude towards the Universal, as it is at present defined to be.
If it were only this, all further content would be found to be outside of religi
on, would come in to it from without ; or if the content did actually exist, thi
s would imply that there existed yet another reality outside of religion.
The standpoint of religion is this, that the True, to which consciousness relate
s itself, has all content in itself, and consequently this condition of relation
is what is highest of all in it, is its absolute standpoint.
Reflection is that form of mental activity which establishes the antitheses, and
which goes from the one to the other, but without effecting their combination a
nd realising their pervading unity. The true home of religion, on the contrary,
is absolute consciousness, and this implies that God is Himself all content, all
truth and reality. An object such as this cannot be adequately expressed by mer
e Reflection.
If we have hitherto made use of the expression " consciousness," it will be unde
rstood that this only expresses the aspect of the outward manifestation of Spiri
t, the essential relation of knowledge and its object. " I " am thus determined
as relation, but it is the essential nature of Spirit not to be merely in relati
on ; finitude belongs to consciousness, and the object remains in consciousness
as something independent. Spirit is not merely an act of knowledge in which the
existence of the object is separate from the process of knowing it, it does not
merely exist as something related, it is not merely the form of consciousness. W
e abstract from this relation and speak of Spirit, and consciousness then comes
to be included as a moment in the being of Spirit; and this at once implies an a
ffirmative relation of the spirit to absolute Spirit. It is only when we have ar
rived at this identity, where knowledge posits itself for itself in its object,
that we are in presence of Spirit, Reason, which exists objectively for itself.
Religion is therefore a relation of the spirit to absolute Spirit : thus only is
Spirit as that which knows, also that which is known. This is not merely an att
itude of the spirit towards absolute Spirit, but absolute Spirit itself is that
which is the self-relating element, which brings itself into relation with that
which we posited on the other side as the element of difference. Thus when we ri
se higher, religion is the Idea of the Spirit which relates itself to its own se
lf it is the self-consciousness of absolute Spirit. Of this, its consciousness w
hich was before defined as relation, forms a part. Consciousness, as such, is fi
nite consciousness, it is the knowledge of something other than the Ego. Religio
n, too, is consciousness, and consequently has finite consciousness as an elemen
t in it, but a consciousness which is cancelled as fiinite ; for the Other, whic
h absolute Spirit knows, it itself is, and it is only absolute Spirit in knowing
itself. The finiteness of consciousness conies in here, since Spirit by its own
movement differentiates itself ; but this finite consciousness is a movement of
Spirit itself, it itself is self-differentiation, self-determination ; that is
to say, positing of itself as finite consciousness. By means of this, however, i
t is only mediated through consciousness or finite spirit in such wise that it h
as to render itself finite in order to become knowledge of itself through this r
endering of itself finite. Thus religion is the Divine Spirit's knowledge of its
elf through the mediation of finite spirit. Accordingly, in the Idea in its high
est form, religion is not a transaction of man, but is essentially the highest d
etermination of the absolute Idea itself.
Absolute Spirit in its consciousness is knowledge of itself. If it has knowledge
of what is other than itself, it then ceases to be absolute Spirit. In accordan
ce with this description, it is here maintained that this content, which the kno
wledge of absolute Spirit has of itself, is the absolute truth, is all truth, so
that this Idea comprehends the entire wealth of the natural and spiritual world
in itself, is the only substance and truth of all that constitutes this world,
while it is in the Idea alone that everything has its truth, as being a moment o
f its essential existence.
The proof of the necessity that this content of religion should thus be absolute
truth, in so far as it starts from what is immediate, and exhibits that content
as the result of another content, has been discussed, and already lies behind u
s. When this proof was given above in its proper place, we saw at once how the o
ne-sidedness of its procedure by which the content appears not as absolute, but
as a result, annuls itself. For that which appears as First, whether it be the l
ogical abstraction of Being, or the finite world this First, this Immediate, thi
s which appears unposited, is eventually itself posited as something posited, an
d not immediate it is degraded from being immediate to being posited, so that ab
solute Spirit is in reality the True, the positing of the Idea, as well as the p
ositing of Nature and of finite Spirit ; in other words, absolute Spirit self-co
nscious of itself is the First and the alone True, in which the finite world whi
ch is -thus something posited exists as a moment.
This procedure, therefore, which, to begin with, showed itself as a procedure pr
ior to religion, and in which the beginning was made from the immediate, without
reference to God, so that God only comes into being by means of it, is now seen
to be rather a moment within religion itself, but in a shape and form different
from that in which it first appeared, in which its 'relation to God is, as it w
ere, of a merely natural and naive kind. Here, on the other hand, God is absolut
ely the First, and that procedure is the active play and movement of the Idea of
absolute Spirit within itself. Spirit is for itself or self-conscious, that is
to say, makes itself an object, has independent existence over against the Notio
n, as that which we call " the world," " Nature." This diremption, or separation
, is the first moment. The other consists in the movement of this object back to
this its source, to which it continues to belong, and to which it must return.
This movement constitutes the Divine life. Spirit as absolute is, in the first p
lace, manifestation or appearance to self, the self-existent Being-for-self. Man
ifestation, as such, is Nature ; and Spirit is not only that which appears, not
only that which is for beholders, but is Being-for-itself, what exists on its ow
n account, manifestation to itself, and the fact that it is such makes it consci
ousness of itself as Spirit. Thus the moment which was at first considered as ne
cessity is seen to be within Spirit itself, and we have that necessity so far as
its essence is concerned within religion too ; not, however, as immediate deter
minate Being, but as manifestation of the Idea ; not as Being, but as manifestat
ion of the Divine. The concrete filling-up of the notion or conception of religi
on accordingly is its production by means of itself. It is it itself which rende
rs itself concrete, and perfects itself by attaining to the totality of its dist
inctions, so that the Notion, since it exists only by means of these distinction
s, becomes object to itself. The Notion, which we have thus put on a firm basis,
is the self-consciousness of Absolute Spirit, it is the self-consciousness whic
h implies that it exists for itself. For itself it is Spirit; that in which ther
e is a distinction between itself and Spirit is the moment of Nature. The meanin
g of this in popular language is that God is the unity of the Natural and Spirit
ual ; Spirit is, however, lord of Nature, so that the two do not occupy a positi
on of equal dignity in this unity, the truth being rather that the unity is Spir
it ; Spirit is no third something in which the two are neutralised, but, on the
contrary, this indifference of the two is itself Spirit. At one time Spirit repr
esents the one side, and at another is that which overlaps, which reaches over t
o grasp the other side, and is thus the unity of both. It is in this further con
crete determination of Spirit that the process takes place by which the notion o
f God perfects itself by attaining to the Idea.
The Spiritual is the absolute unity of the Spiritual and Natural, so that this l
ast is only what is posited, sustained by Spirit. In this Idea are found the fol
lowing moments : a. The substantial, absolute, subjective unity of the two momen
ts, the Idea in its affirmation in which it is identical with itself. I. The dif
ferentiation of Spirit within itself, so that it now posits itself as existing f
or what is thus differentiated, posited as the latter is by Spirit itself, c. Th
is differentiation itself being posited in that unity of affirmation, becomes ne
gation of the negation, affirmation as infinite, as absolute Being-for-self.
The first two moments are those of the Notion, representing the way and manner i
n which the relation of the Spiritual and Natural is contained in the Notion. Wh
at is further to be observed is, that they are not merely moments of the Notion,
but are themselves the two sides of the difference. In Spirit the moment of dif
ferentiation is that which is termed consciousness. Differentiation is the posit
ing of two, which have no other quality attaching to their difference than just
those moments themselves. The differentiation, which thereby becomes a relation,
has therefore the following as its two sides : as the one side it has just that
solid substantial unity of the Idea, God as existent, as unity relating itself
to itself; and as the other the differentiation, which, as consciousness, is the
side for which the solid unity exists, and which therefore determines itself as
the finite side.
Thus is God determined as existing for consciousness, as Object, as appearing or
manifesting Himself. Essentially, however, He is as spiritual unity in His subs
tantiality, not merely determined as appearing, but as appearing to Himself, the
refore so appearing to what is other than Himself, that in that appearing He man
ifests Himself to Himself.
This differentiation is therefore itself to be conceived of as returning into ab
solute affirmation, or abrogating itself, as differentiation which just as etern
ally abrogates itself and becomes the truth of manifestation.
We first of all distinguished the substantial unity from the differentiation its
elf, and then designated the return of the second moment into the first as the t
hird moment. Now, however, those two moments themselves (in accordance with the
character of the content of the relation) are only to be taken as one side of th
e relation, so that the two only make up the one determinate character of that r
elation, and the second moment becomes that which appeared as the third. It is t
hese two moments which, from the point of view of the notion, constitute that wh
ich in a general way is to be considered as the reality of the Idea; the one as
the relation, into which the notion divides itself up, the consciousness, the ap
pearing of God ; and the other as the self-abrogation of this only relative atti
tude of opposition. In the first, that is, the attitude of relation, the finite
consciousness is the one side, and the mode in which its finiteness is determine
d is the mode in which it itself reveals to us how its object is determined for
it. Here we have the manner of the divine manifestation, that is to say, the wor
ld of general ideas, or the theoretical side. In the other relation, the practic
al, being that of the active process in which the division annuls itself, it is,
on the contrary, in consciousness that the activity makes its appearance. To th
is side accordingly belongs the form of freedom, subjectivity as such, and it is
 here that self-consciousness is to be considered in its movement. This is manif
estation as worship.

C. WORSHIP OR CULTUS.

The separation of subject from object makes its first actual appearance in the W
ill. In willing I am an actual being and a free agent, and I place myself over a
gainst the object as an Other, in order to assimilate it to myself by bringing i
t out of that state of separation. In the theoretical relation, this immediate u
nity, immediate knowledge, is still present. But in worship I stand on the one s
ide and God on the other, my purpose being to unite myself closely with God, and
God with myself, and so to bring about a concrete unity. Or, if we designate th
at first or theoretical unity as the mode under which ordinary thought conceives
the Existent, the Objective, then, in contrast with that stable relation (which
, as being the consciousness of God as existent in and for Himself, in the form
of idea, is theoretical), worship will now constitute the practical relation. Th
is it does, inasmuch as it possesses in itself the antithesis of subject and obj
ect, and so far does away with the division between subject and object ; so that
this division might seem to exist in the first condition of relation. Here, the
n, the aspect of freedom, of subjectivity, is to be considered, as contradisting
uished from the first aspect, which is that of Being. Thus it might be said that
the first is God in His Being, the second the subject in its subjective Being.
God is, is present ; that is to say, has a relation to consciousness. Thus worsh
ip is itself in the first place theoretical, in as far as it itself, after doing
away with the antithesis, quits the region of idea or ordinary thought likewise
. As determined, God is not as yet the true God. In as far as He is no longer de
termined and limited in His actually existing manifestation, is He Spirit, manif
estation which exists in and for itself. The Being of God therefore involves a r
elation to consciousness ; only as an abstract God does He exist for consciousne
ss as a something beyond the present, as " Other." Inasmuch as He is in His mani
festation as He is potentially, He has an absolutely realised existence ; theref
ore consciousness, and essentially self-consciousness, belong to His manifestati
on, for every form of consciousness is selfconsciousness. Thus God is essentiall
y self-consciousness. The characteristic of consciousness is included in the fir
st aspect as well, and that which we have termed the general idea of God may lik
ewise be called the Being of God.
Thus knowledge has its place as associated with worship, and the general form in
which it appears as belonging to it is what we call Faith.

I. OF FAITH.

i. Faith belongs to this practical relation on its subjective side. It belongs t

o the knowing subject, in as far as in it self-consciousness not only has a know
ledge of its object as theoretical, but has certain knowledge of it a knowledge
of it, in fact, as something which is absolutely Existent, and alone True. In th
is certainty it has relinquished its independent Being, which is the element of
truth in its formal knowledge of itself. Since faith must be defined as the witn
ess of the spirit to absolute Spirit, or as a certainty of the truth, it involve
s relation in respect of the distinction of Object and Subject, a mediation in f
act, but a mediation within itself ; for in faith as it is here defined, externa
l mediation and that particular mode of it have already vanished. This mediation
 therefore belongs to the essential nature of Spirit, and is the substantial uni
ty of Spirit with itself, which infinite form likewise essentially is. To expres
s this in more concrete language, the certainty faith has of the truth, or, this
uniting of the absolute content with knowledge, is that absolute, divine connec
tion itself, in accordance with which the knowing subject, the self-consciousnes
s, in so far as it knows the true content, as free, as laying aside all peculiar
ities of its particular or individual content, has knowledge of itself, though o
f its essence only. In this its free, absolute certainty, it has the very certai
nty of the truth. As knowing, it has an object, and this as being the Essence is
the absolute Object. It is at the same time no foreign object, no object which
is for consciousness something other than and beyond it, but it is its own Poten
tiality, its Essence. For consciousness, as absolutely certain, is identical wit
h this certainty. This content is the potentiality of self-consciousness, and in
this character exists for us, having in as far as it is essential being only, o
bjectivity for self-consciousness, or to put it otherwise, it constitutes its as
pect as consciousness. This is the innermost, abstract point of personality, whi
ch can be understood in a speculative way only as this unity of self-consciousne
ss and consciousness, or of knowledge and its essence, of infinite form and abso
lute content. This unity exists simply and solely as the knowledge of it in an o
bjective form, as being the Essence which is my Essence.
In this exposition so much depends on each individual moment, and at the same ti
me on the essential combination of these in unity, that if one only of these mom
ents be held fast while we abstract from the others, or even if they be grasped
in a more complete way, yet apart from their identity, this conception may easil
y seem merely to result in those one-sided forms of reflection which have alread
y been considered, and may be confounded with them. This may all the more easily
appear to be the case, since those very forms of reflection are none other than
the single moments of the expounded conception held fast in a one-sided manner.
The explanation of this distinction will help towards a fuller elucidation of t
he true conception, as also of those forms of reflection.
It having thus been shown that the Truth itself is contained in the certainty of
spiritual, pure self-consciousness, and is inseparably identical with it, it ma
y easily appear as if this determination were the same with the idea of the imme
diate knowledge of God, in which as immediate the Being of God is just as certai
n for me as I myself am, as my certainty of myself. Such an assertion, however,
would essentially imply a persistent adherence to the immediacy of knowledge as
such, and as excluding a perception of the truth that knowledge as such is in fa
ct mediation in itself, an immediate affirmation, which is this simply and solel
y as negation of the negation. This would imply, further, that the immediacy of
the knowing subject does not disappear, but that the latter persists in its fini
te independent Being, and therefore, together with its object, remains devoid of
Spirit, so that it is only the speculative nature of the two moments and of the
spiritual Substance which is not grasped in thought and directly treated of. In
the act of devotion which rests on faith, the individual is oblivious of self,
and is filled with his object. He yields up his heart, and does not keep his imm
ediate character. Even if the subject, in the fire and warmth of devotion, burie
s itself in its object, it is, all the same, itself still prtsent. It is precise
ly the subject which possesses itself in this devotional exercise ; it is the su
bject which prays, speaks, forms ideas, and which has to do with this its exalta
tion. But in devotion the subject does not maintain itself in its particularity,
but only in its movement in the Object, and only as this individual self-moving
spirit. The further development of the immediacy which has not been abrogated a
ccordingly presents us with the infinitude of the vain subject as vain, and this
culmination of vanity remains. If this be taken as also the unity of the certai
n knowledge of itself with the content, then this unity would be one in which va
nity as such would be defined as representing what is true and absolute. That su
bjectivity, on the contrary, is destined to be the true subjectivity only in so
far as it is knowledge which is emancipated and free from immediacy, as likewise
 from the Being-for-self which reflects itself into itself, and holds itself fas
t as against Substance that is, only in so far as it is this negative unity of i
nfinite Form with Substance, as against its individual particularity.
In connection with the conception just indicated, we may perhaps be reminded of
another idea, or of the bald accusation of Pantheism which is brought against th
at conception even by theologians themselves. For there are theologians who, whi
le they suppose that they have gone a long distance from the beaten track of the
ordinary forms of the reflection which characterises the culture of our time, a
re so restricted to it that if they do not find God spoken of and defined as som
ething absolutely supersensible, they in their thinking cannot get any further t
han the conception of such an affirmative relation as mere ordinary abstract ide
ntity. People do not know how to get a knowledge of God as Spirit : Spirit is an
empty idea to them, having merely the same meaning as motionless abstract Subst
ance. Pantheism sees and knows God in the sun, in a stone, a tree, an animal, in
so far only as the sun as sun, the tree or animal as such, is and continues in
this immediate natural existence. The sun, the air, and such like, are, it is tr
ue, universal matter, and still more are plants and animals, life in fact. If we
know of no higher characteristic of God than that of universal Being, of univer
sal life, universal substance, and the like, then such forms of existence certai
nly contain this so-called divine Essence, and contain it as a Universal which i
s devoid of Spirit. In like manner, if the individual self-consciousness be defi
ned as a natural simple Thing, which is ordinarily understood as being the defin
ition of the soul, then from the pantheistic point of view it too is taken as a
divine existence. But so too, although self-consciousness be of the true kind, u
nderstood not indeed as a natural Thing, yet as a reality so far as immediatenes
s is concerned so that it exists as knowing immediately, just as it is in accord
ance with its purely original character what thinks, and even although in this s
ense it be thus taken as a divine reality, it also is still conceived of from th
at pantheistic point of view. And from such a definition of individual self-cons
ciousness it is not possible for the pantheistic idea to free itself. " I am : I
am thinking : " this form of immediate Being is regarded from the pantheistic p
oint of view as that which constitutes the ultimate definition and the persisten
t form of what thinks. Although the latter be also termed Spirit, this remains a
meaningless expression, since that " I " which was merely Being, that knowledge
which is merely immediate knowing immediately anything whatever, including even
God is nothing but Spirit devoid of Spirit. The two assertions that man can onl
y know God in an immediate manner, and that man as he is originally and by natur
e is good, have their source in this conceiving of Spirit as devoid of Spirit. O
r conversely, if these two assertions be made, it follows that Spirit is to be t
aken only as the existent " I," and this existent " I " as the ultimate and true
determination of self-consciousness, and even as absolute eternal Being. Spirit
becomes Spirit as concrete freedom only, as something which allows its naturaln
ess or immediateness to flow into its universality, or more accurately, into its
essence as its object as something which merges its natural singularity, which
determines itself as finite in the essential object, that is here, in the absolu
te content, which determines itself as object. If in connection with the immedia
teness thus relinquished, what is thought of be the merely bodily immediateuess,
then this yielding up presents itself partly as natural death, by means of whic
h man may be united with God partly, however, as Thought, which abstracts from s
ensuous life and sensuous ideas, and is a withdrawal into the free region of the
supersensuous. But if thought here adheres to its form as abstract thought, it
retains the reflected vanity of simple, immediate Being-for-itself, of the cold
and reserved isolation of the existent " I," which takes up an exclusive attitud
e towards its Essence, and negates its own essence in itself. With justice is it
said of this " I " that God would not be in it, nor would it be in God, and tha
t it would have to do with God in an outward fashion only, and further, that it
would be the pantheistic point of view, and unworthy of God, if this "I" should
be taken as an actual existence of God, since God must at least abstractly be de
fined as the absolutely universal Essence. But the relation of self-consciousnes
s to God as Spirit is wholly different from this pantheistic mode of conceiving
the relation, since in such a relation it is itself Spirit, and since by the ren
unciation of the exclusive character which it possesses as immediate oneness or
isolation, it places itself in an affirmative relation, in a spirituallyvital at
titude toward God. If theologians see Pantheism in this attitude, and consequent
ly even count the spirit among the All, the all things among which indeed they r
eckon the soul and that "I" which is reflected into its Beingfor-self, and which
they then are justified in excluding from God in respect of their individual ac
tuality in which they are finite, and if they know Spirit only as negation of Go
d, they not only forget the doctrine that man was created in the image of God, b
ut emphatically forget the doctrine of the grace of God, of justification throug
h Christ, and, above all, the doctrine of the Holy Spirit, who leads the church
into all truth, and abides for ever in His church. The grand present day cry rai
sed against this truth is Pantheism. If, however, the " I" be knowledge of the i
nfinite content, in such sort that this form. itself belongs to the infinite con
tent, then the content is directly adequate to the form. It is present, not in f
inite existence, but in absolute manifestation of itself, and this is not Panthe
ism, for it has before it the existence of the divine in a particular form. If m
an, on the other hand, be immediately God, that is to say, if he as this individ
ual unit knows God, that is the doctrine of Pantheism. The Church, on the contra
ry, declares that it is only through the abrogation of this naturalness (which a
brogation, in its natural form, is seen in natural death) that man becomes unite
d with God. If we grasp what is taught by the Church, in the Notion, in thought,
the speculative determinations which have been specified will be found to be in
volved in it ; and if there are theologians who cannot, by grasping them in thou
ght, follow out such doctrines which undoubtedly have to do with the innermost d
epths of the divine Essence, they ought in that case to let them alone. Theology
is the comprehension or understanding of religious content. Such theologians ou
ght therefore to acknowledge that they cannot comprehend it, and should not seek
to criticise the comprehension of it, and least of all should they apply to it
such terms as Pantheism, &c.
The older theologians had the most thorough grasp of this divine depth, while am
ong the Protestants of the present day, whose entire resources consist of critic
ism and history, philosophy and science have been wholly neglected. Meister Ecka
rdt, a Dominican monk, in speaking of this innermost element, says, in one of hi
s sermons, among other things, the following : " The eye with which God sees me
is the eye with which I see Him ; my eye and His eye are one. By a righteous sta
ndard I am weighed in God, and God in me. If God were not, I would not be ; if I
were not, then He were not. It is, however, not needful to know this, for there
are things which are easily misunderstood and which can only be thoroughly unde
rstood in thought."
. Faith must now get what is essentially the form of mediation. It itself is alr
eady this form implicitly, for it is knowledge of God and of His character, and
this knowledge is in itself a process, a movement is life, mediation. It is invo
lved in the very nature of the freedom which is the inner characteristic of fait
h, that it should not be what we at first called substantial, solid unity, that
it should not be idea : in freedom I exist on the contrary as that activity in a
ffirmation which is infinite negation in itself. Now if we should wish to give t
o mediation the form of an external mediation as the foundation of faith, then s
uch a form would be a wrong one. This mediation, of which the basis is something
external, is false. The content of faith may indeed come to me by means of inst
ruction, miracle, authority, &c. These may be the foundation of faith as subject
ive faith. But it is just in giving this position to the content whereby it assu
mes the character of a basis for me, that we go on a wrong track ; and when fait
h is reached, this externality must drop away. In faith I make that my own which
comes to me thus, and it ceases to be for me an Other. Immediate faith may be s
o defined as being the witness of the Spirit to Spirit, and this implies that no
finite content has any place in it. Spirit witnesses only of Spirit, and only f
inite things are mediated by means of external grounds. The true foundation of f
aith is the Spirit, and the witness of the Spirit is inherently living. Verifica
tion may at first appear in that external formal manner, but this must drop away
. It may thus happen that faith in a religion has its commencement from such tes
timony, from miracles, that is in a finite content. Christ Himself, however, spo
ke against miracles, He reproached the Jews for demanding them of Him, and said
to His disciples, " The Spirit will guide you into all truth." Faith which begin
s in such an external manner is as yet formal, and the true faith must come in i
ts place. It is essential to mark this distinction between the two kinds of fait
h, for if this is not done, men are required to believe things which at a certai
n level of culture they can no longer believe. Miracles, it is said, are to be b
elieved in this way, and this belief is to be a means of faith in Christ ; it ma
y indeed be a means, but yet it is always required on its own account as well. T
he faith thus demanded is faith in a content which is finite and contingent, tha
t is to say which is not the true content. For true faith has no accidental cont
ent. This requires especially to be pointed out in view of the " Auf klarung." I
t has gained the mastery over this formal faith, and if orthodoxy demand faith o
f this kind, it becomes impossible for it, in presence of certain ways of lookin
g at things common among men, to maintain it, because it is faith in a content w
hich is not divine, which is not the witness of God to Himself as Spirit in the
Spirit. The following is to be specially noted in regard to miracles. Whether at
the marriage at Cana the guests got a little more wine or a little less is a ma
tter of absolutely no importance ; nor is it any more essential to determine whe
ther or not the man who had the withered hand was healed ; for millions of men g
o about with withered and crippled limbs, whose limbs no man heals. In like mann
er it is related in the Old Testament, that at the time of the flight out of Egy
pt red marks were made at the doors of the Jewish houses in order that the angel
of the Lord might recognise those dwellings. Would this angel not have known th
em without those marks ? This faith has no real interest for Spirit. Voltaire's
bitterest attacks are directed against the demands of a faith of this kind. Amon
g other things he says that it would have been better if God had given the Jews
some definite instruction regarding the immortality of the soul, rather than to
have taught them to go to the (aller a la selle). Latrince thus become a content
of faith (Deut. xxiii. ).
The non-spiritual, from its very nature, is not a content which can belong to fa
ith. If God speaks, it is spiritually, for Spirit reveals itself to Spirit alone
.
In like manner theology has in recent times laid stress in connection with exege
sis on the number of codices in which this or that disputed passage is to be fou
nd. Thus there is a passage in the New Testament which, according to the Greek t
ext, reads, " God () blessed for evermore ; " an old fragment of parchment found
in Oxford, on the contrary, reads, " Who (Christ) blessed for evermore," a diff
erence occasioned by the stroke in the &. Now, however, it has been pointed out
that the stroke shows through from the other side, &c.
If criticism of what we know concerning the nature of God takes to do with such
things, then these are testimonies which are no testimonies at all. The content
of religion is the eternal nature of God, not accidental and external things of
this kind.
When Mendelssohn was asked to come over to the Christian religion, his reply was
that his own religion did not require of him a faith in eternal truths, but onl
y in certain laws, modes of action or ceremonial observances, and that he looked
upon it as an advantage possessed by the Jewish religion that in it eternal tru
ths are not presented for our acceptance, since for the finding of these reason
is sufficient ; those positive statutes he said had been established by God, whe
reas these eternal truths are the laws of nature, mathematical truths, &c.
We must indeed concede that they are eternal, but they are of very limited conte
nt, and are no content of eternal Spirit in and for itself. Religion, however, m
ust contain nothing else but religion, and it should contain as such only eterna
l truths of the Spirit. This represents the essential characteristic of religion
, and for the rest, whether those positive statutes have to do with the external
modes of worship, or whether such commands of God relate to moral actions, it i
s again the spiritual element, the disposition of mind which is the principal th
ing. But this religion of commands in its fully developed form is harsh in the e
xtreme, and may become irreligious, and enter into relation with a limited conte
nt. What is to be believed must, however, possess a religious, spiritual content
.
. We have now defined faith, and attestation as mediation, to be the inmost elem
ent in the conception of worship, or as the first moments in it. In worship, God
is on the one side, I am on the other; and the essential characteristic here is
that I enclose myself with God within myself, know myself in God as my truth, a
nd God in me. The essential thing is this concrete unity. Theoretical consciousn
ess, too, is concrete in our way of looking at it, but only implicitly. When it
becomes concrete for the subject too, it then is practical. Worship is the act o
f giving to oneself this highest, this absolute enjoyment there is emotion in it
; I am present in it with my individual personality. Thus it is the certainty o
r sure knowledge of the absolute Spirit in His Church, the Church's knowledge of
its own Essence ; this is the substantial unity of Spirit with itself which is
essential and infinite form, knowledge in itself. Thus to put it more definitely
, subjective self-consciousness is, to begin with, contained in it, but this con
sciousness, however, is still subjective in a formal manner only, for the consci
ousness which has reached knowledge of the absolute content is free. That is to
say, it divests itself of the reserve and isolation of Being-for-self, which as
a unit is exclusive in relation to its object. Thus it knows its Essence, and th
at this is its Essence ; it bears witness of this to the object, and this witnes
s is thus the testimony of Absolute Spirit, which in like manner only in thus wi
tnessing produces itself as Absolute Spirit. As knowledge, selfconsciousness has
an object ; as essence it is Absolute Object, and for self-consciousness in so
far as it is free this is none other than the witness of the Spirit. Spirit beco
mes known to self-consciousness only in its freedom, therefore only in so far as
this knowledge is free knowledge is the unity of self-consciousness present, an
d the absolute content is substantial unity, and this means that singularity is
simply abrogated, or rather determined as universal in opposition to what is sin
gular, so that the latter exists as a mere semblance only. " I " this empirical
existence from which Essence is still certainly different, is just what is void
of essence.
Subjective consciousness itself, however, is a limited, determinate consciousnes
s, Spirit as particular, or in a special form. For Spirit in this special form,
for Spirit with a determinate character, truth too exists only in this definite
mode. According as the subjective spirit is constituted, so too is objective tru
th constituted for it.
But in God consciousness and knowledge are inherent. These are a content, and th
e form which implies that this content is the object of consciousness is insepar
able from it. Here we have to do with Spirit in a particular or special form, an
d at the progressive stages of the development of Spirit faith modifies itself a
nd adopts a different kind of content. Thus we do right to speak to a child of G
od its Creator, and in this way the child forms an idea of God as of some Higher
Being ; this is grasped by the consciousness in early years, but only in a limi
ted manner; and the foundation thus laid is thenfurther extended and broadened.
The One Spirit is in fact the substantial foundation ; this is the spirit of a p
eople, as it takes a definite shape in the individual periods of the history of
the world. It is the national spirit. This constitutes the substantial foundatio
n in the individual ; each person is born in his own nation and belongs to the s
pirit of that people. This spirit is in fact the substantial element, and as it
were the identical element of nature ; it is the absolute foundation of faith. I
t is the standard which determines what is to be regarded as truth. This substan
tial element exists in this way independently in contradistinction to individual
s ; it is their power in reference to them as units, and is in this relation to
them their absolute authority. Each individual as belonging to the spirit of his
people is born in the faith of his fathers, without his fault and without his d
esert, and the faith of his fathers is a sacred thing to the individual and is h
is authority. This constitutes that basis of faith afforded by historical develo
pment.
And here the question arises as to how a religion is founded, that is to say, in
what manner the substantial Spirit comes into the consciousness of nations. Thi
s is something historical ; the beginnings are invisible ; those who are capable
of expressing that Spirit are prophets, poets. Herodotus says, Homer and Hesiod
made their gods for the Greeks. Homer and Hesiod have here an authority, but fo
r this reason only, that their utterances were in conformity with the Greek spir
it. And besides, the thoughts of these poets were preceded by still earlier begi
nnings, which were the first glimmerings of the Divine, for it will hardly be ma
intained that the stage of culture which appears in the works of Homer represent
s what has existed from the very first. Dread of the supersensuous expressed its
elf in the earliest times in a crude and primitive manner. Fear is the beginning
, and in order to remove it and to render that supersensuous power propitious, r
ecourse was had to incantations, and prayers were offered up in the form of hymn
s. Thus by degrees consciousness develops itself, and the few who in this state
of things know what the Divine is are the Patriarchs, the Priests, or it may be
that a caste or a particular family is marked off to teach doctrine and to condu
ct the worship of God. Each individual lives into the spirit of these ideas and
experiences, and thus a spiritual contagion is spread abroad among the people, a
nd education, too, bears its part, so that the individual breathes in the atmosp
here of his people. The children too go in festival attire with their elders to
worship, take part in the religious functions, or have something to do in connec
tion with this divine worship. In any case, they learn the prayers, hear repeate
d the beliefs of the church and of the nation, enter into these and accept them
in the same direct way in which uniformity in dress and the customs of everyday
life are propagated.
Such is natural authority ; hut its power is greatest in spiritual matters. Howe
ver independent the individual may imagine himself to be, it is impossible for h
im to get beyond this spirit, for it is what is substantial, it is his special n
ature itself.
This authority is, to begin with, something entirely natural, and has a sure pla
ce amongst a people on its own account, without hinting at any prohibition of wh
at is contrary to it. Under such conditions, individuals as units are neither fr
ee nor are they in bondage, for there is here no kind of opposition of reflectio
n and subjective thought. We say, such and such peoples have believed this, but
they themselves do not call it " believing," if you understand by belief or fait
h what involves the consciousness of opposition.
But now different forms of faith make their appearance, different religions, whi
ch can come into collision with one another. This collision may take place in th
e sphere of ordinary thought and of reflection, and the defence may be based on
reasons and evidences of truth, but it may also take the form of one people comp
elling others to conform to their faith, and thus faith becomes compulsory State
-authority, enforced partly within the State itself and partly outside of it. Th
is kind of collision has given rise to countless wars. Under this head we may ra
nk the wars of the Mohammedans, the religious wars between Catholics and Protest
ants, the Inquisition too, and the battles in India between worshippers of Siva
and Vishnu. In such conflicts the combatants fight for the glory of God, they fi
ght in order that God may be recognised in consciousness, and that what is truth
for the nation may receive recognition. freedom of faith in the general sense r
evolts against such compulsion ; this freedom, however, can further take up a po
sition of impartiality relatively to the various forms of belief which assert th
emselves to be the truth. Thus this freedom is formally the same as freedom of f
aith as such, in which what is believed is not to be brought into question. Such
then is the formal demand of freedom which does not criticise the truth of fait
h, and is concerned with subjective freedom only, whatever may be the nature of
the content. It is here that the distinction enters between the inner life, the
place of conscience, in which I am, so to speak, at home with myself, and the es
sential content. The inner life is the holy place, the seat of my freedom, and i
t is to be held in respect. This demand is an essential one, which is made by a
man in proportion as the consciousness of freedom awakens within him. Here the b
asis is no longer the substantial content of faith, but its formal character.
But now the freedom of faith directly appears as a contradiction in itself if th
e matter be regarded from the point of view of abstract thought. For in the very
act of believing, a man accepts something given, something already present. fre
edom, on the other hand, requires that this should be posited, produced by mysel
f. But in this demand of freedom, faith is really conceived of as my personal fa
ith, as an inmost certainty which is absolutely and exclusively my own. In this
certainty of my own, in this my conviction, my faith has its source and its plac
e. I am free and independent with regard to others, whatever the faith itself ma
y happen to be ; or, in other words, the definite reasons, reflections, and feel
ings which it is built are of no importance here. Clearly faith is in itself, as
far as the content is concerned, still in bondage, and it is Thought which firs
t seeks to be free in respect of the content also.
Here, accordingly, where freedom brings itself into relation with the content as
well, is it that the breach between thought and faith makes its appearance, tha
t breach which we already see among the Greeks in the time of Socrates. Thought
implies a new relation towards faith ; that is to say, the aspect of Form enters
into relation with the substantial element of truth. In the Christian religion
this principle is present from the beginning. Regarded in one aspect, that relig
ion starts, it is true, from an external history which is made a matter of faith
; but this history at the same time professes to be the explication of the natur
e of God. Christ, in accordance with the distinction which directly enters here,
is not merely a man, who experienced a particular fate, but He is also the Son
of God. The explication of the history of Christ, the unfolding of its meaning,
is thus the deeper lying element. This has been given in thought, and it has pro
duced Dogmatics the doctrine of the Church. With this there co-exists a demand f
or "inwardness," for thought. The breach between thought and faith then develops
itself further. Thought knows itself to be free, not only so far as the form is
concerned, but in respect of the content also. In thought, however, freedom doe
s not exist altogether apart from authority ; it has certain principles, which a
re really its own, and to which it reduces everything. But these principles them
selves belong to development ; a given period has certain principles, and so far
authority, too, is present in it. It is the ultimate analysis only, where no as
sumed principles any longer exist, which constitutes the advance to philosophy.
The as yet religious mediation of faith as it appears in worship, is the active
process of bringing forward into reality the previously determined unity, and th
e enjoyment of it ; so that what is potentially in faith may also be realised, f
elt, enjoyed. When will appears in this form, worship is practical, and this act
ive process has to begin with the form of limitation and particularity. It is fe
equently said that in his will man is infinite ; while in his understanding, his
power of knowledge, he is finite. To say this is childish ; the opposite is muc
h nearer the truth. In willing, a man confronts an Other, he isolates himself as
an individual, he has in himself a purpose, an intent with regard to an Other,
he behaves as if separated from that Other, and thus finitude comes in. In his a
cts man has an end before him, and such action essentially requires that the con
tent, the end, should exist, should lose the form of an idea, or in other words,
that the end in view being, to begin with, subjective, should have this subject
ivity taken away from it, and thus at length attain to objective existence.
In so far as worship, too, is an act, it has an end in itself, and this, which i
s faith, is the implicit concrete reality of the Divine and of consciousness. Wh
at worship has to accomplish is not the separation of anything from the Object,
or the alteration of anything in it, nor the establishing of its own claims with
regard to it. Its end, on the contrary, is essentially absolute reality, and th
is end is not one which has still to be produced, or created, but one which is o
nly to have actuality in me ; it is, therefore, opposed to me, opposed to my par
ticular subjectivity. This last is the husk, which is to be stripped off; I am t
o be in the Spirit, and the Object is to be in me as Spirit.
Here then is a twofold act, the grace of God and the sacrifice of man. In connec
tion with the act, which we call the grace of God, the mind gets into a difficul
ty on account of the freedom of man. But the freedom of man just consists in the
knowledge and willing of God, and exists only through the annulling of human kn
owledge and will. Man is not like a stone here, so that it is not a case of grac
e only operating in a practical way, while man forsooth is the passive material,
without participating in any way in what goes on. The end to be reached rather
is that through ine the Divine should come to be in me, and that toward which th
e action, which is my action, tends, is the renunciation in general of that self
of mine, which no longer retains itself for its own sake. Such is the twofold a
ctive movement which constitutes worship, and thus is its end the existence of G
od in man.
I am to make myself such that the Spirit may dwell in me, that I may be spiritua
l. This is my work, the human work, and that same work is God's, regarded from H
is side. He moves toward man, and is .in man through man's exaltation of himself
. What seems to be my act is then God's, and conversely, too, what seems His is
mine. This, it is true, runs counter to the merely moral standpoint of Kant and
Fichte ; there goodness still remains something which has yet to be brought fort
h, to be realised, and continues, too, to be something that ought-to-be, as if i
t were not already essentially there. Here, then, is a world outside of me, whic
h as forsaken of God waits for me to bring the end, the good into it. The sphere
of moral action is limited. In religion, on the contrary, goodness, reconciliat
ion, is absolutely complete, and exists on its own account; the Divine unity of
the spiritual and the natural world is presupposed the particular self-conscious
ness being regarded as belonging to the latter and the whole question concerns o
nly myself and has reference to myself, and centres in this, that I lay aside my
subjectivity and take and have my share in that work which eternally completes
itself. According to this, goodness is in no sense something which merely ought
to be, an ideal, but is, on the contrary, Divine power, eternal truth.
In like manner, if in the present day it is felt to be supremely necessary to br
ing faith near to men, and if religious talk is constantly directed toward produ
cing a sense of wretchedness, and together with this the belief that God exists,
this is not only not worship, but this persistent effort, implying that religio
n has first to be created, is something outside of religion. The truth rather is
that worship is within religion, and the knowledge that God and reality exist i
s the fundamental truth which I have only to assimilate to myself. Oh, unhappy a
ge, which must content itself merely with being continually told that there is a
God !
Since the truth rather is that worship presupposes the essential existence of th
e final purpose of the world, and yet sets out from this presupposition to oppos
e empirical self-consciousness and its particular interests, a negative moment o
r stage is contained in it, but of such a kind that it is really the practical a
ctivity of the subject itself, by whicli it discards particular subjectivity. Su
ch, then, is the notion or conception of worship in general, whose foundation is
the determination of what is known as faith.

II. THE DEFINITE CHARACTER AND SPECIAL FORMS OF WORSHIP OR CULTUS.

In faith is contained the notion or conception of absolute Spirit itself.

To begin with, this content exists as the Notion for us; we have conceived of it
as such, but that does not imply that it is already posited in existence as suc
h. The Notion is the inner, the substantial element, and as such it is through u
s that it is present in us in the knowledge which grasps its object The Idea, ho
wever, does not as yet possess this shape and content in existing self-conscious
ness generally. At first, therefore, the Idea is like the Notion, like the Subst
ance which is identical with subjective self-consciousness, so that subjective s
elf-consciousness has its Essence, its truth in the object. In the Idea the subj
ect is essentially conceived of as free, but at first possesses relative freedom
only, freedom of the subject in relation to its universal Essence, so that it d
oes not separate itself from that Essence, nor persist in keeping to a form whic
h is antagonistic to this its Universality, but continues to exist only in unbro
ken continuity with its Object. Or, to express it otherwise, freedom is merely t
his formal freedom of the subject, in which the consciousness of the subject is
adequate to its notion. As hitherto defined, however, true faith presupposes the
selfconsciousness of the absolute freedom of the spirit the consciousness that
man is free in his own nature, by virtue of his fundamental nature, and knows hi
mself as infinite Personality. Now, if such self-consciousness be still immediat
e, it is, to begin with, only formally free, and labours under the defect of hav
ing a merely natural character, and is not man's consciousness of his infinite f
reedom. God Himself does not exist as Spirit in an immediate manner, and the sam
e is the case as to our consciousness regarding Him. Consequently, freedom itsel
f, and reconciliation in worship or devotion, are in the first instance formal r
econciliation and freedom : if the subject is to be adequate to its conception o
r notion, it is necessary that its notion, that absolute Spirit, be for it Objec
t as Spirit, for only by bringing itself into relation with its Essence in that
absolute content can the subjective spirit be free in itself. The truth is that
it remains absolute for itself, and as infinite subjectivity has the consciousne
ss that it has infinite worth for itself, or on its own account, and is the obje
ct of the infinite love of God.
We find that worship also develops in conformity with the idea of God which has
just been unfolded. At one time God is thought of as the unity of the natural an
d spiritual, at another as the absolute unity, which itself is spiritual. The de
finite aspects of worship correspond with these different ideas of God.
i. God is immediately determined as an abstraction, and as having a merely natur
al character, not as absolute, infinite Spirit: In as far as this natural charac
ter is posited in Him, and He has it in Himself in an affirmative manner, He is
indeed the Unity of this and the Spiritual ; but in so far as the natural charac
ter is something permanent, the unity of the two is immediate also, a unity whic
h indeed is merely natural, and not truly spiritual. As regards man, the body is
just as much an affirmative ingredient as the soul if any one says he consists
of body and soul ; and as thus conceived, the unity of the two is also a natural
immediate unity only.
Now, in worship, too, man is determined in the same way, as having an immediate
natural character, or as being in the unfreedom of freedom. To say that man is s
imply naturally free (a definition which really contradicts itself) implies also
that his relation to his object, his essence, his truth, is such a natural unit
y, and his faith, his worship, is therefore essentially an immediate relation, o
r an original state of reconciliation with his object. This is a characteristic
of worship in all those religions in which the absolute essential nature of God
is not as yet revealed. Here man in his freedom has not yet attained to freedom.
Such, for instance, is heathen worship, which has no need of reconciliation. He
re worship is already that which man represents to himself as the ordinary mode
of life ; he lives in this substantial unity, worship and life are not separated
, and a world of absolute finitude has not as yet placed itself over against an
infinitude. Thus a conscious, ness of their felicity prevails among the heathen,
a consciousness that God is near to them as the God of the nation, of the State
the feeling that the gods are friendly toward them, and bestow upon them the en
joyment of all that is best. If Athene was known to the Athenians under this gui
se as their divine power, they knew themselves to be originally one with her, an
d knew the divine to be the spiritual power of their nation itself. At the first
stage of the immediate unity of the finite and infinite, self-consciousness has
not as yet attained to development into Totality. The distinction is not in so
far taken seriously. Negativity must, it is true, present itself, but not being
the product of consciousness itself, the negative is shut out from the inner rel
ation of subjectivity. It has its place outside, and is, as it were, a realm of
darkness and of evil to be separated off from the immediate unity. Conflict and
strife with that negative may even arise, but it is of such a kind that it is th
ought of more as an external conflict, and the enmity and return out of it are n
ot regarded as essential moments of self-consciousness. In this stage there is t
herefore no real reconciliation, for this presupposes an absolute dualism or div
ision in the inner life.
Here, therefore, the essential note of worship is that it is not something pecul
iar, not anything set apart from the rest of life, but rather a continuous life
in the realm of light and in the Good. The temporal life with all its needs this
our immediate life is itself worship, and the subject has not as yet separated
its essential life from the maintenance of its temporal life, and from the occup
ations belonging to immediate, finite existence.
At this stage, an express consciousness of its God as such must indeed spring up
in the subject ; there must be a rising up to the thought of the absolute Being
, and there must be adoration and praise of Him. But this is to begin with an ab
stract relation of a separate and independent character into which concrete life
does not enter. So soon as the relation of worship takes on a more concrete sha
pe, it takes up the entire external actual existence of the individual into itse
lf, and the whole compass of ordinary daily life, eating, drinking, sleeping, an
d all actions connected with the satisfaction of natural necessities come to hav
e a reference to worship, and the engaging in these actions and occupations cons
titutes a holy life.
While, however, externality and need are necessarily inherent in such occupation
s, they must, if they are to be lifted up into that essential unity, have specia
l attention directed to tliem, and be engnged in with circumspection and sobriet
y, to the exclusion of all caprice. In this way solemnity and dignity rule in th
e most ordinary dealings of life. The concrete existence of finite life is not a
s yet esteemed a matter of indifference ; it is not as yet degraded by freedom t
o externality, because the freedom of the inner life has not yet given itself an
independent sphere. The acts of daily and ordinary life are, therefore, still r
egarded all through in relation to religion, and have the value of substantial a
cts. In order that this action, which is regarded by us as action of a contingen
t kind, may be congruent to the form of substantiality, it is essential that it
be carried out with solemnity, repose, and becoming regularity and order. Conseq
uently, all this is arranged in a general manner by means of rules, and that app
earance of contingency is not present here, since in the process of becoming fin
ite the subject has not cast itself loose from the Infinite, and given itself fr
ee play. An oriental who occupies this standpoint does not consider his body, no
r finite occupations and the act of engaging in these as his own, but rather as
being in the service of an Other, of the universal essential Will. For that reas
on he must engage in the most insignificant affairs with dignity and sober-minde
dness, so that he may accomplish them in a becoming manner, in a manner suitable
to that universal "Will.
That solemnity is a mere form notwithstanding, and the content is limited to the
range of the finite, and therefore the opposition is not truly done away with.
Consequently, the orderliness with which the actions of everyday life are perfor
med being only an external form belonging to that finite content, the actual dis
tinction between external life and that which the absolute Object is for conscio
usness, is still present here. Subjective existence must therefore be definitely
and openly annulled, and the mode in which this takes place here is connected w
ith reflexion upon finitude and on its opposition to the Infinite. But the negat
ivity of the finite can only come about in a finite manner. Now this is what is
generally designated as sacrifice.
Sacrifice directly involves the renunciation of an immediate finitude in the sen
se of being a testifying that this finitude is not to be my own possession, and
that I do not desire to have it for myself. From this standpoint of the religiou
s consciousness, sacrifice is therefore sacrifice in the strict and proper sense
. Negativity cannot here reveal itself in an inward process because we are not y
et in presence of the depths of the inner life of thought and feeling. Sacrifice
does not consist in a " conversion " of the inner life, of the heart and of the
natural inclinations, rendering it necessary that these should be broken. On th
e contrary, what the subject is for itself or in its independent condition, such
is it when in immediate possession, and the yielding up of its finitude in wors
hip is only the renunciation of an immediate possession, and a natural existence
. In this sense, sacrifice is not any longer present in a spiritual religion, bu
t what is there designated sacrifice can only be such in a figurative sense.
Sacrifice, to speak more precisely, can at this stage be merely a sacrifice of a
doration, of praise, the act of testifying that I have nothing peculiar to mysel
f but that I relinquish it in thinking of myself in relation to the Absolute. He
to whom the possession is yielded up, is not to be made richer by means of it ;
all that happens is that the subject in this renunciation gets for itself the c
onsciousness of the removal of separation, and its action is in so far purely jo
yous action. This too is the general signification of gifts in Eastern countries
, subjects or vanquished enemies bring presents to the king, not that he may be
made richer, for everything is already assigned to him, and everything belongs t
o him.
Further, too, sacrifice may assume the character of a sacrifice .of purification
, having reference to a specific defilement. From the point of view which we are
considering, sin, in the strict sense, has not been committed ; the special sac
rifices of purification group themselves round all finite action generally. They
represent no repentance, no punishment ; they have no spiritual change as their
aim, and they do not involve the endurance of any kind of loss or damage. It is
not considered that a man has done some evil deed for which he must endure an e
vil in return. All such categories as those just mentioned would include the ide
a of a justification of the subject ; but that is an idea which does not as yet
in any sense enter in here. From our standpoint, such sacrifices would be regard
ed as losses, since something we possess is relinquished by means of them. Such
a view is meanwhile wholly absent from the minds of those who occupy the standpo
int above referred to ; their sacrifice is, on the contrary, essentially symboli
cal. A defilement has occurred, and this must be got rid of in a similarly immed
iate manner. The subject, however, cannot make what has happened into something
which has not happened, nor can it repent that it has acted as it did. For this
reason there must necessarily be an exchange or substitution, and something must
be relinquished other than that existence which was really in question. What is
offered up may be much more insignificant as regards intrinsic value than what
I receive, what I have acquired for myself. Thus I actually take possession of t
he harvest which I have won, of the animal which I have slaughtered, and then if
it is to be shown that I do not seriously take this possession as mine, this is
done in a symbolical manner. It is not as if what I do ought not to take place,
for such actions are necessary ; through the act of sacrifice it is only this b
ecoming finite generally, this independent existence of mine which is once more
annulled.
The general characteristic which marks these acts of devotion, is what we call C
eremonial. It consists in this, that everyday common actions (as we regard them)
are at the same time necessary actions, and are prescribed by rule. We have the
right to act here in accordance with our fancies, or to follow habit in an unco
nscious way ; in like manner we do not hold a purification to be necessary in th
e same degree in which such actions as the gathering of the harvest and the slau
ghtering of an animal, are necessary. And since, further, in the case of these o
fferings and purifications there is an actual reference to the religious aspect
of life, no distinction presents itself here to which an importance would not be
attributed. Thus the different means of sustaining life are not looked upon in
relation to taste and to health merely. We have accordingly here the combination
of different elements in connection with sacrifice and purification. That actio
n by means of which purification from another action is got, can have no necessa
ry relation to the latter, and for this reason the combination can only be an ac
cidental and external one. Hence arises the painful element in this form of wors
hip. If a meaning lies or has lain in these ceremonies and combinations, yet it
is a trivial and a superficial one, and in becoming a matter of habit, such acti
ons lose even the little meaning which may once have lain in them.
At this point, accordingly, definite punishment comes in, in so far as a deed wh
ich is opposed to some prescribed rule has to be annulled, and in so far as it i
s a question of a transgression. The punishment of such a transgression is in tu
rn an injury, and something is relinquished life, property, and so forth. But th
e meaning attached to this punishment here is that of a purely barren, formal pu
nishment, like civil punishment. This latter, however, does not necessarily conc
ern itself with the improvement of the delinquent, while ecclesiastical repentan
ce or penance is in our view a punishment of which the essential purpose is the
improvement and conversion of the person punished. To those occupying this stand
point, punishment cannot have any such moral, or rather religious, meaning. Civi
l laws and the laws of the State are here in fact identical with religious laws.
The law of the State is the law of freedom ; it presupposes personality, the di
gnity of man, and has essential reference to the Will, a sphere of discretion be
ing left for the exercise of judgment regarding unimportant and indifferent matt
ers. But for those who occupy the standpoint of which we are treating such a sep
aration does not as yet exist, and the general condition is one of mere necessit
y.
From that finite form of existence and action which the religious worship just d
escribed brings into relation with what has essential being, there is further to
be distinguished a more specific form of action which is in accordance with end
s. The performance of such actions as have immediate reference to our necessitie
s or requirements does not take place in accordance with an end, but is regulate
d in an immediate way. This action, on the other hand, which is in accordance wi
th an end, is not mere action prompted by necessity or habit, but determines its
elf in accordance with ideas. Thus it still, it is true, is finite action, in so
far as it has a finite end ; but since the leading principle here is that the f
inite should be lifted up to the infinite, the finite ends too are to be extende
d into an infinite one. In this way religious work or labour makes its appearanc
e, and this produces works of devotion which have not reference to a finite end,
 but which are meant to be something which exists for its own sake. This work is
here itself worship. Such works and such productions are not to be regarded as
corresponding with our ecclesiastical buildings, which are only undertaken becau
se they are required. This labour, on the other hand, as pure production and as
perennial work, is its own end, and is consequently never completed.
Now, this religious work is of diverse kinds and cf various degrees, from the me
re bodily movement of the dance up to the erection of enormous colossal structur
es. The latter are principally of the nature of monuments, and are endless in nu
mber, for a feesh beginning must continually be made as each generation complete
s its own work.
The determining agent in connection with such works is not yet the free imaginat
ion ; on the contrary, what is produced has the character of something enormous
and colossal. The production of such things is still essentially chained to what
is Natural and Given, and the discretion left to active effort is limited merel
y to this, that the dimensions be on an exaggerated scale, and the actual forms
be characterised by proportions of the " enormous " order.
All these works too fall within the sphere of sacrifice, for in these, as in sac
rifice, the end is the Universal, as against which what is peculiar to self and
the interests of the subject must be relinquished. All activity, in fact, is a r
elinquishment, no longer, however, of a merely external thing, but of inward sub
jectivity. This renunciation or sacrifice which is involved in activity, in virt
ue of its character as activity, produces at the same time an object, brings som
ething into existence, yet not in such a way that the Being which is created mer
ely issues from myself, but rather so that the act of production takes place in
accordance with an end which is full of content. The labour of man by which the
unity of the finite and infinite is brought about only in so far as it is penetr
ated throughout by Spirit and wrung out of the action of Spirit, is, however, al
ready a deeper sacrifice, and an advance on that form under which sacrifice orig
inally makes its appearance merely as the renunciation of an immediate finitude
; for in this act of production the sacrifice is a spiritual deed, and is the ef
fort which, as negation of particular self-consciousness, holds fast the end whi
ch has its life within the inner region of thoughts and ideas, and brings it for
th in an outward way for sense-perception.
Hitherto we have considered the worship which belongs to this standpoint as it p
roceeds from the assumed unity of self-consciousness and the Object. A falling a
way from this original unity notwithstanding, often makes its appearance here, a
deviation from this state of reconciliation, or from the sense of defect which
gives rise to the need for that state. This falling away has its root partly in
the freewill of the subject, in the enjoyment which the individual has in his wo
rld, for he is not spiritually self-conscious, and is thus still inclination, de
sire, or it comes in from another side, from the power of Nature, from the miser
y of man, of the individual, of peoples, or states. After a disturbance of this
kind, whereby the unity is interrupted, there is .constant need of stern negatio
n to restore it again.
Here we have the severance of the Divine and human, and the meaning of worship i
s not the enjoyment of this unity, but the abrogation of the separation. Here, t
oo, we have the presupposition of a reconciliation which exists on its own accou
nt.
. This severance or separation is, to begin with, one which presents itself in t
he natural world, and it appears here as some external disaster which falls upon
a people. God is here the substantial power, the power in the spiritual as in t
he natural world. Now, if death, adverse fortunes in war, pestilence, and other
calamities weigh upon a land, the direction which worship takes is that of seeki
ng to regain the goodwill of the gods, originally enjoyed. It is the calamity wh
ich here constitutes the severance ; it has reference to the natural sphere only
, the external state in respect of bodily existence, these outward conditions no
t being such as the demand for happiness requires. The assumption here is that t
his natural state is not an accidental one, but depends upon a higher Power, whi
ch determines itself as God : God has laid down those conditions, has created th
em. A further leading idea is that this Will which decrees the calamity, acts in
accordance with the moral connection which implies that it goes well or ill wit
h a man or with a people because that man or that people has merited what happen
s as their desert. The course of Nature is on this account interrupted in refere
nce to the purposes of men, and thus Nature appears as antagonistic to their adv
antage and prosperity. In the case of such severance, what is requisite is the r
e-establishment of the unity of the divine Will with the ends of men. Worship th
us takes the form of propitiation or atonement. This is brought about by means o
f acts of repentance and expiation, by sacrifice and ceremonies, in which man ma
kes it manifest that he is in earnest as regards the renunciation of his particu
lar will.
The view that God is the ruling power over Nature that Nature depends upon a hig
her Will is what really lies at the basis of this standpoint. The only question
which presents itself here is as to how far the divine Will is represented in na
tural events as to how it is to be recognised in these. It is taken for granted
from this point of view that the power of Nature is not natural only, but contai
ns within itself purposes which, as such, are foreign to it namely, purposes of
goodness, which concern the welfare of man, and that that welfare is dependent u
pon these purposes. We too recognise this as true. But the well-being is of an a
bstract, universal sort. When people speak of their well-being, they have partic
ular ends which are wholly their own as apart from others, and thus they compris
e their well-being within limited, natural existence. But if a man descends in t
his manner from the divine Will to particular ends, he descends into the realm o
f finiteness and contingency. The religious feeling, the pious thought that indi
vidual misfortune is dependent upon the Good, rises also, it is true, direct fro
m the individual up to God, to the Universal, and thus the sovereignty of the Un
iversal over the Particular is acknowledged. But what next follows is the applic
ation of this Universal to the Particular, and here the defectiveness of this co
nception becomes evident. Nations which are visited by calamity search after som
e transgression as its cause, and then fly for refuge to a Power which determine
s itself in accordance with ends. Even although the presence of this Universal b
e conceded here, its application to the Particular leads, on the other hand, to
a disparity or false relation.
In the disturbed relations which we find at this first stage, unity appears as l
imited in character. It is capable of being rent asunder ; it is not absolute, f
or it is an original and unreflected unity. Thus, over this presupposed, immedia
te, and consequently destructible harmony, and over the celebration and enjoymen
t of it, there still broods a Higher, a Supreme. For the original unity is mere
natural unity, and in being such is limited for Spirit. P>eing encumbered with a
natural element, it has not that reality which it ought in accordance with its
notion to possess. This disunion must necessarily come to be present for conscio
usness, for consciousness is implicitly thinking Spirit. There must arise in con
sciousness the need of an absolute unity which hovers over that satisfying fruit
ion, a unity which, however, remains abstract only, since that original harmony
is the complete, concrete, and living foundation. Over this sphere there hovers
a sense of division which is not resolved and harmonised, and thus through the g
ladness of that living unity there sounds a jarring and unresolved tone of mourn
ing and of pain ; a fate, an unknown power, a coercive necessity, unknown but re
cognised, without reconciliation, to which consciousness submits, but only by th
e negation of itself, broods over the heads of gods and men. This is an element
which is bound up with the particular form of selfconsciousness under considerat
ion. Now it is just here that a special aspect of worship presents itself. For i
n that first unity the negation of the subject is superficial and accidental, an
d what broods over the subject is only the feeling of sadness, the thought of ne
cessity, which is a negative element as opposed to that living unity. But this n
egativity has also to become actual, and prove itself to be a higher power over
that unity. This necessity does not remain merely an idea or general conception
; the lot of man becomes a stern one, the natural man passes away, .death makes
serious work with him, fate devours him, and he is comfortless, for the very rec
onciliation, the unity, is not that of what is deepest and most inward; but, on
the other hand, the natural life is still an essential moment, and is not relinq
uished. The division has not as yet gone so far as this ; a unity of the natural
and spiritual has, on the contrary, remained, in which the former maintains an
affirmative character. This destiny has now to be transformed for ordinary thoug
ht and in a subjective manner, into the affirmative, and thus the spirits of the
dead are regarded as the unreconciled element which has to be reconciled : they
must . be avenged for the injustice of their death. Here, accordingly, we have
that service in honour of the dead, which is an essential part or aspect of wors
hip.
. The higher attitude, then, as compared with this last stage of worship, is tha
t where subjectivity has arrived at the consciousness of its intrinsic infinitud
e. It is here that religion and worship enter completely into the domain of free
dom. The subject knows itself to be infinite, and knows itself to be such in its
character as subject. In this it is involved that what was formerly the Unrevea
led or Undisclosed has the moment of individuality in itself, so that individual
ity by this 'means acquires absolute value. But now individuality has value as b
eing this absolute and consequently purely universal singularity or individualit
y. Here the individual exists only through the abrogation of his immediate indiv
iduality, through which abrogation he produces absolute individuality in himself
, and is consequently free in himself. This freedom exists as the movement of ab
solute Spirit in him by the abrogation of the natural and finite. Man, in arrivi
ng at a consciousness of the infinity of his spirit, has brought into view the e
lement of division in its most extreme form in regard both to Nature generally a
nd to himself: it is in this division that the domain of true freedom has its or
igin. Through this knowledge of absolute Spirit the opposition between infinite
and finite has entered in in its most extreme form, and this division is the bea
rer of reconciliation. It is no longer asserted here that man is good and is rec
onciled with absolute Spirit from his birth, that is, in accordance with his imm
ediate nature ; but, on the contrary, that just because his conception is the ab
solutely free unity, that natural existence of his directly proves itself to be
in a state of opposition, and consequently to be something which is to be abroga
ted and absorbed. Nature, the heart in its immediate state, is what has to be re
linquished, because that moment does not leave Spirit free, and as natural spiri
t it is not posited by its own act. If the natural element be retained, the spir
it is not free. Accordingly, what it is, it is not by its own act, or on its own
account, but it finds itself so. In that higher sphere, on the other hand, all
that man ought to be lies involved in the domain of freedom. Here, then, worship
essentially passes over into the region of inner life ; here the heart must bre
ak, that is to say, the natural will, the natural consciousness, is to be relinq
uished. On the one hand, too, there are actual sins, of which man has to repent,
sins which, as single acts, have a contingent character, and do not concern hum
an nature as such. But, on the other hand, in the abstraction of finitude and in
finitude in that general opposition the finite, as such, is reputed to be evil.
That separation which is originally inherent in man has to be annulled. And assu
redly the natural will is not the will as it ought to be, for it ought to be fre
e, and the will of passion is not free. By nature Spirit is not as it ought to b
e ; by means of freedom only does it become such. That the will is by nature evi
l is the form under which this truth is presented here. But man is only guilty i
f he adhere to this his natural character. Justice, morality, are not the natura
l will, for in it a man is selfish, his desire is only toward his individual lif
e as such. It is by means of worship, accordingly, that this evil element is to
be annulled. Man is not innocent in the sense that he is neither good nor bad. W
hat results from the freedom of man is not natural innocence of this kind. But m
an becomes educated to freedom, which has an essential character only when it wi
lls the essential will and this will represents what is good, right, moral.
Man is to become free, that is to say, upright and moral, and he is to become su
ch by the way of education. According to the view here referred to, this kind of
education is expressive of the overcoming of the evil element, and as thus rega
rded it is posited in the sphere of consciousness, while education takes place i
n an unconscious manner. The abrogation of the antithesis of good and evil has i
ts place in this form of worship ; the natural man is represented as evil, but t
he evil element is the aspect of separation and estrangement, and this estrangem
ent is to be negated. There is also present the assumption that reconciliation i
s potentially accomplished ; in worship a man creates this assurance for himself
, and lays hold upon the potentially completed reconciliation. It is, however, a
lready perfected in and through God, and it is this divine reality which man is
to take to himself as his own.
But this appropriation of reconciliation takes place by the negation of the estr
angement, and therefore by means of renunciation. And now the question arises, "
What then actually is it that man is to renounce ? Man is to renounce his partic
ular will, his passions and natural impulses. This may be understood as if the i
mpulses of nature were to be eradicated, not merely purified as if the vitality
of the will were to be slain. This is wholly a mistake. What is true is that it
is only the impure content that is to be purified ; in other words, its content
is to be made conformable to the moral will. It is a false demand, on the contra
ry, that is made when the renunciation is conceived of in an abstract way as if
the impulse of vitality in itself were to be annulled. Possession, personal prop
erty, is likewise a part of what pertains to man ; it is his by his own will ; t
herefore it might now be demanded of him that he should relinquish his possessio
n ; celibacy is a demand of this kind. freedom, conscience, belong also to man ;
in the same sense it may be required of him that he should give up his freedom,
his will, in which case he sinks down into a gloomy, will-less creature. This i
s the extreme form of such a demand. Connected with this part of the subject is
the idea that I should undo my deeds, and suppress the workings of evil action.
Eenunciation means here that I do not desire to regard certain deeds which I hav
e committed as being my own, that I regard them as not having taken place, that
is, I desire to repent of them. As regards time, it is true the action has passe
d by, so that it is nullified by time. But as to its inner content, in so far as
it belongs to my will, it is still preserved in the inner sphere, and the destr
uction of it then means, relinquishment of the state of mind in which it exists
ideally. If punishment be the destruction of the evil element in the sphere of r
eality, this destruction in the inner life is penitence and contrition, and the
Spirit is able to accomplish this renunciation, since it has the energy to effec
t a change in itself, and to annul in itself the maxims and intentions of its wi
ll. If in this manner a man renounces his selfishness and the separation between
himself and goodness, he then has become a partaker of reconciliation, and by m
eans of this internal process has attained to peace. And thus it comes to pass t
hat Spirit here manifests itself in the subject as it truly is in its essential
nature, and in conformity with its content, and that this content is no longer s
omething beyond this world, but that free subjectivity has in it its own Essence
as its object. Worship is thus finally the presence of the content which consti
tutes absolute Spirit, and this makes the history of the divine content to be es
sentially the history of mankind as well the movement of God toward man, and of
man toward God. Man knows himself to be essentially included in this history, wo
ven into it. While in contemplating it he immerses himself in it, his immersion
in it is the active intermingling of this content and process, and he secures fo
r himself the certain knowledge and enjoyment of the implied reconciliation.
This working out of subjectivity, this purification of the heart from its immedi
ate natural character if it be thoroughly carried out, and create a permanent co
ndition which corresponds with the universal end of subjectivity assumes a compl
ete form as morality, and by this path religion passes over into established cus
tom, into the State.
Thus it is that that essential connection known also as the relation of religion
to the State makes its appearance. With regard to this, we have now to speak wi
th greater detail.

III. THE RELATION OP RELIGION TO THE STATE.

I. The State is the true form of reality. In it the true moral will comes into t
he sphere of reality, and Spirit lives in its true nature. Religion is divine kn
owledge, the knowledge man has of God, the knowledge of himself in God. This is
the divine wisdom, and the field of absolute Truth. But there is besides a secon
d wisdom, the wisdom of the world, and the question arises as to the relation in
which it stands to that divine wisdom.
In a general sense, religion and the foundation of the State are one and the sam
e ; they are in their real essence identical. In the patriarchal condition, in t
he Jewish theocracy, the two are not as yet separated, and are still outwardly i
dentical. But yet they are different, and in the further course of events they a
re sharply separated from one another, and then again are posited in true identi
ty. From what has just been said, the reason of the existence of the essentially
existing unity is already clear. Religion is the knowledge of the highest truth
, and this truth more precisely defined is free Spirit. In religion man is free
before God ; in that he brings his will into conformity with the divine will, he
is not in opposition to the supreme will, but possesses himself in it ; he is f
ree, since in worship he has attained to the annulling of the division. The Stat
e is only freedom in the world, in the sphere of actuality. Everything essential
ly depends here on the conception of freedom which a people bears in its own sel
f-consciousness, for in the State the conception of freedom is realised, and to
this realisation the consciousness of freedom which exists in its own right esse
ntially belongs. Such nations as do not know that man is free in his own right,
live in a condition of torpor, both as regards their form of government and thei
r religion. There is but one conception of freedom in religion and the State. Th
is one conception is man's highest possession, and it is realised by man. A nati
on which has a false or bad conception of God, has also a bad State, bad governm
ent, bad laws.
The detailed consideration of this essential connection between the State and re
ligion belongs properly to the Philosophy of History. It is only to be considere
d here in the definite form under which it appears to ordinary thought, and as i
t gets involved in contradictions in this form, and, finally, as it arrives at t
he opposition between the two created by the interests of modern times. We there
fore, first of all, consider this connection as it is ordinarily conceived.
. Men are distinctly conscious of this connection, not, however, in its true cha
racter as absolute, and as it is known in philosophy, but rather they know and c
onceive of it in a general way only. The mode in which the idea of this connecti
on finds expression is in the tracing of laws, authority, and the constitution o
f the State to a divine origin. They are considered as deriving their authorisat
ion from this source, and, in fact, from the highest authority which can be conc
eived of. These laws are the development of the conception of freedom, and this
latter, reflecting itself thus upon actual existence, has the conception of free
dom as it appears in religion for its foundation and truth.
To say this implies that these laws of morality, of right, are eternnl and uncha
ngeable rules for the conduct of man, that they are not arbitrary, but continue
to exist so long as religion itself continues to exist. We find a general concep
tion of this connection among all nations. It may be taken as meaning that man o
beys God in the act of conforming to the laws, to the ruling authority, to the p
owers which hold the State together. This way of stating the matter is in one as
pect correct enough, but in this form the thought is exposed to the risk of bein
g taken in a wholly abstract sense, inasmuch as nothing is determined regarding
the explanation of what is involved in the laws, nor as to what laws are fitted
to form the fundamental statutes. Expressed in this formal manner, the meaning o
f the proposition is that men are to obey the laws whatever they may happen to b
e. In this way the act of governing and the giving of laws are abandoned to the
caprice of the governing power. This condition of things has actually existed in
Protestant States, and it is only in such States that it can be found, for it i
s in these that that unity of religion and the State actually exists. The laws o
f the State are regarded as rational and as having a divine character in virtue
of this assumed original harmony, and religion has not principles peculiar to it
self which contradict those which prevail in the State. While, however, formal p
rinciples are adhered to, free scope is given to caprice, to tyranny, and to opp
ression. This state of things presented itself in a marked manner in England (un
der the last kings of the House of Stuart) when a passive obedience was demanded
, and it was an accepted principle that the ruler was responsible for his action
s to God only. This also involves the assumption that it is the ruler alone who
knows for certain what is essential and necessary to the State ; for in him and
in his will is contained the principle in its more precise form that he is an im
mediate revelation of God. This principle, however, when further logically devel
oped, reaches the point at which it turns round into its direct opposite, for th
e distinction between priests and laymen does not exist among Protestants, and p
riests are ,not privileged to be the sole possessors of divine revelation, and s
till less does there exist any such privilege which can belong exclusively to a
layman. To the principle of the divine authorisation of the ruler there is accor
dingly opposed the principle of this same authorisation which is held to be inhe
rent in the laity in general. Thus there arose a Protestant sect in England, the
members of which asserted that it had been imparted to them by revelation how t
he people ought to be governed, and in accordance with the directions thus recei
ved from the Lord, they raised the standard of revolt, and beheaded their king.
But even supposing that the general principle at least has been established that
laws exist through an act of the divine will, still there is another aspect of
the matter which is just as important, namely, that we should have a rational kn
owledge of this divine will, and such knowledge is not anything particular or sp
ecial, but belongs to all. To know and recognise what is rational is accordingly
the business of cultured thought, and is specially the business of philosophy,
which may, perhaps, in this sense be termed worldly wisdom. It is a matter of no
importance under what external form true laws have succeeded in establishing th
emselves, and whether they have been extorted by threats out of rulers or not ;
the cultivation and development of the conception of freedom, of right, of human
ity, is on its own account necessary to mankind. With regard to the truth that l
aws are the divine will, it is therefore of the utmost moment to determine what
these laws are. Principles as such are mere abstract thoughts, which only attain
their truth in being unfolded and developed ; held fast in their abstract state
, they represent what is wholly untrue.
. Finally, the State and religion may be severed from one another, and may have
different laws. What is worldly and what is religious stand on a different basis
, and a distinction in regard to principle also may make its appearance here. Re
ligion does not merely keep to its own proper sphere, but concerns the subject t
oo, prescribes rules in reference to his religious life, and consequently in ref
erence to his active life also. Those rules which religion makes for the individ
ual may be different from the fundamental principles of right and of morality wh
ich prevail in the State. The form in which this contradiction expresses itself
is that the demands of religion have reference to holiness ; those of the State,
 to right and morality : what is in view on the one side is Eternity ; on the ot
her, Time and temporal welfare, which must be sacrificed to eternal well-being.
In this way a religious ideal is set up a heaven upon earth ; in other words, th
e abstraction of Spirit as against the substantial element of the actual world.
Renunciation of this actual world is the fundamental principle which appears her
e, and with it appear conflict and flight. Something quite different, which is t
o be regarded as higher, is set in opposition to the substantial foundation, to
the True. The primary moral relation in the substantial world of reality is marr
iage. The love which God is, is in the sphere of reality, conjugal love. As the
primary manifestation of the substantial will in the concretely existing world,
this love has a natural side ; but it is a moral duty as well. To this duty, ren
unciation celibacy is opposed as something holy.
Secondly, as a unit, man has to engage in a conflict with the necessity of natur
e ; for him it is a moral law, that he should render himself independent by mean
s of his activity and understanding, for in his natural aspect man is dependent
on many sides. By his spiritual nature, by his sense of honesty, he is placed un
der the necessity of earning his livelihood, and thus setting himself free from
that necessity of nature. This is man's honesty or integrity. A religious duty w
hich has been placed in opposition to this worldly one requires that man should
not exercise activity in this fashion, and should not trouble himself with such
cares as these. The entire sphere of action, of all that activity which connects
itself with gain, with industries, and such like, is consequently abandoned. Ma
n is not to take to do with such ends. Want, however, is more rational here than
such religious views. On the one side the activity of man is represented here a
s something unholy ; on the other, it is even demanded of him, if he have a poss
ession, not only that he should not increase it by his activity, but that he sho
uld give it away to the poor, and especially to the Church that is to say, to th
ose who do nothing, do not work. Thus, what in life is highly esteemed as integr
ity is consequently repudiated as unholy.
Thirdly, the highest morality in the State is based upon the carrying into effec
t of the rational universal will; in the State the subject possesses his freedom
, this being realised or actualised in the State. In opposition to this a religi
ous duty is set up, in accordance with which man is not permitted to make freedo
m his object and end. On the contrary, he is to subject himself to a strict obed
ience ; he is to abide in the condition of will-lessness ; and more than this, h
e is to be selfless in his conscience too ; in his faith, in his deeper inner li
fe, he is to renounce himself and cast away his self.
When religion lays its arrest on the active life of man in this manner, it can p
rescribe peculiar rules to him which are in opposition to the rationality of the
world. In contrast to this action of religion, worldly wisdom, which recognises
the element of truth in the sphere of reality, makes its appearance, the princi
ples of its freedom are awakened in the consciousness of the Spirit, and here th
e demands of freedom are seen to enter into conflict with the religious principl
es which required that renunciation. Such is the relation in which religion and
the State stand toward one another in Catholic States when subjective freedom aw
akes in men.
In connection with this contradiction, religion expresses itself in a negative w
ay only, and requires of man that he should renounce all freedom ; put in a more
definite form, this contradiction means that man in his actual or secular consc
iousness generally is essentially without rights, and religion recognises no abs
olute rights in the domain of actual or secular morality. So enormous is the cha
nge which has in consequence of this made its appearance in the modern world, th
at it is even asked whether the freedom of man is to be recognised as something
which is really and essentially true, or whether it may be repudiated by religio
n.
It has been stated already that it is possible that there should be harmony betw
een religion and the State. This is the case in a general sense in Protestant St
ates so far as the principle is concerned, though indeed the harmony is of an ab
stract kind ; for Protestantism demands that a man should only believe what he k
nows, that his conscience should be regarded as a holy thing that. is not to be
touched or interfered with. In connection with the working of divine grace man i
s no passive being ; he himself plays an essential part, and co-operates with Go
d by exercising his "subjective freedom, and in his acts of knowing, willing, an
d believing, the presence of the moment of subjective freedom is expressly requi
red. In States where different religions prevail, it may happen, on the other ha
nd, that the two sides do not agree, that the religion is different from the pri
nciple of the State. We see this to be the case over a very widely extended area
: we find, on the one side, a religion which does not recognise the principle o
f freedom ; on the other, a constitution which makes that principle its basis. I
f it be said that man is in his true nature free, then this certainly expresses
a principle of infinite value. But if an abstraction of this kind be adhered to,
it effectually prevents the development of any kind of organically-constituted
government, for this demands a systematic organisation in which duties and right
s are limited. That abstraction permits of no inequality, and inequality there m
ust necessarily be if an organism, and with it true vitality, are to exist.
Such principles as these are true, but they must not be taken in their abstract
meaning. The knowledge of the truth that man is free in virtue of his real natur
e, that is, in virtue of his true conception, belongs to modern times. Now wheth
er the abstraction be adhered to or not, it may in either case happen that to th
ese principles a religion stands opposed, which does not acknowledge them, but r
egards them as illegitimate, and holds that freewill or caprice alone is legitim
ate. This necessarily gives rise to a conflict which does not permit of adjustme
nt in a true way. Religion demands the annulling of the will ; the worldly princ
iple, on the contrary, takes it for its starting-point. If such religious princi
ples succeed in establishing themselves, it cannot but happen that the governmen
t should proceed by force and suppress the religion which is thus opposed to it,
or else treat those who belong to it as a faction. Religion, in the form of the
Church, may indeed act discreetly here, and be outwardly compliant, but in such
a case the feeling of inconsistency enters into the minds of men. The community
clings to a definite religion, and cleaves at the same time to principles which
are in opposition to it ; in so far as people carry these out, while at the sam
e time they wish to continue to belong to that definite religion, they are guilt
y of great inconsistency. Thus for example, the feench who hold fast to the prin
ciple of worldly freedom, have as a matter of fact ceased to belong to the Catho
lic religion, for that religion can relinquish nothing, but consistently demands
unconditional submission to the Church in everything. In this way religion and
the State come to be in contradiction to each other, and religion is in this cas
e left to get along how it can. It passes for being something which is merely th
e affair of individuals, about which the State has no occasion to concern itself
; and then it is further asserted that religion is not to be mixed up with the
constitution of the State. The laying down of those principles of freedom goes o
n the assumption that they are true because they are in essential connection wit
h the inmost consciousness of man. If, however, it be really reason which finds
these principles, the verification it gives of them, so far as they are true and
do not remain formal, consists in this only, that it traces them up to the rati
onal knowledge of absolute truth, and this is just the object of philosophy. Thi
s tracing up, however, must be accomplished in a complete manner, and carried to
the ultimate point of analysis ; for if rational knowledge does not attain comp
leteness in itself, it runs the risk of becoming the one-sidedness of formalism
; but if it penetrate to the ultimate ground, it reaches that which is recognise
d as the Highest as God. It may perhaps be affirmed with regard to this, that th
e constitution of the State ought to remain on the one side, and religion on the
other. But here there is a danger that such principles may remain infected with
one-sidedness.
At the present day we see the world full of the principle of freedom, and we see
that principle brought into special relation with the constitution of the State
. These principles are correct, but when infected with formalism they are assump
tions or presuppositions, since rational knowledge or cognition has not penetrat
ed to the ultimate ground. It is there alone that reconciliation with what is ab
solutely Substantial is to be found.
The other aspect of the matter which falls to be considered in connection with t
he separation just spoken of is this that if the principles of actual freedom ar
e made the basis, and these develop into a system of Eight, then, given positive
laws consequently come into existence and these acquire the general form of jud
icial laws in relation to individuals. The upholding of the existing legislation
is handed over to the courts of justice ; whoever transgresses the law is broug
ht up for trial, and the existence of the community as a whole is made to rest o
n laws in this legal form. Over against this, however, stands that subjective co
nviction, that inner life which is the very home of religion. In this way two si
des, both of which pertain to the actual world, are mutually opposed, namely, po
sitive legislation, and the subjective disposition or feeling in reference to th
is legislation.
As regards the constitution of the State, there are two systems here the modern
system iu which the essential characteristics of freedom and its whole structure
are upheld in a formal manner to the disregard of subjective conviction. The ot
her system is that of subjective conviction which represents, speaking generally
, the Greek principle, and which we find developed in a special way iu the Eepub
lic of Plato. Here simply a few orders constitute the foundation, while the Stat
e as a whole is based upon education, upon culture, which is to advance to scien
ce and philosophy. Philosophy is to be the ruling power, and by means of it man
is to be led to morality : all orders are to be partakers of the a-ax The two si
des the subjective conviction and that formal constitution are inseparable, and
neither can do without the other ; but in recent times a one-sided view has made
its appearance, according to which the constitution is to be self-sustaining, a
nd subjective disposition or private conviction, religion, conscience, are to be
set aside as matters of indifference, it being no concern of the government wha
t may be the sentiments or private convictions of individuals, or what form of r
eligion they profess. How one-sided this is, however, is clearly seen when we co
nsider that the administration of the laws is in the hands of judges, and hence
everything depends upon their uprightness, as also upon their insight, for the l
aw does not rule, but men have to make it rule. This carrying of the law into ef
fect is something concrete ; the will of men, and their power of insight, too, m
ust contribute their share. The intelligence of the individual must therefore of
ten decide, because although civil laws are very comprehensive, yet they cannot
touch each special case. But subjective conviction by itself is onesided, too, a
nd the Republic of Plato suffers from the defect which this implies. At the pres
ent day men will not rely at all upon intelligence, but insist on everything bei
ng deduced in accordance with positive laws. A striking example of this one-side
dness has been given us in connection with the most recent contemporary history.
We have seen a religious sentiment or conviction taking its place at the head o
f the feench Government, a conviction for which the State generally was somethin
g illegitimate and devoid of rights, while it itself took up an antagonistic att
itude to all that was actually established, to justice, and morality. The last r
evolution was thus the result of the dictates of a religious conscience, which c
ontradicted the principles of the constitution, and yet, according to that same
constitution, it is not of any importance what religion individuals may profess.
The two elements which occasion this collision are still very far from being br
ought into harmony.
This private sentiment or subjective conviction does not necessarily assume the
form of religion ; it may also continue in a more indefinite state. But amongst
what we call " the people," ultimate truth does not exist in the form of thought
and principles. On the contrary, what will pass with the people as right or jus
tice can hold this position only in so far as it has a definite, special charact
er, Now this definite character of justice and morality has its ultimate verific
ation for a people only in the form of an actually existing religion, and if thi
s last is not essentially in harmony with the principles of freedom, there is al
ways present a rent, and an unresolved division or dualism, an antagonistic rela
tion which ought not to exist in the State, of all places. Under Robespierre ter
ror reigned in France, and this " terror " was directed against those who did no
t hold the sentiments of freedom, because they had fallen under suspicion that i
s to say, because of the existence of this conviction or sentiment. In the same
way the Ministry of Charles X. fell under suspicion. According to the formal pri
nciples of the constitution, the monarch was responsible to no one, but this for
mal principle did not hold its ground, and the dynasty was hurled from the thron
e. It thus becomes evident that even in the formally-matured constitution tlie u
ltimate sheet-anchor is still the general sentiment or feeling which has been pu
t on one side in that constitution, and which now asserts itself in contempt of
all form. It is from this contradiction, and from the prevailing insensibility t
o it, that our age is suffering.
Transition to the Following Section.
We have distinguished definite, limited worship from worship in the element of f
reedom, and thus have found the same distinction which is, in fact, involved in
the idea of God.
The two aspects of Spirit of Spirit in its objectivity, when it is pre-eminently
known as God, and of Spirit in its subjectivity, constitute the reality of the
absolute notion or conception of God, who, as the absolute unity of these His tw
o moments, is Absolute Spirit. The determinate character of any one of these asp
ects corresponds with the other aspect ; it is the all-pervading universal form
in which the Idea is found, and which again constitutes one stage in the totalit
y of its development.
As regards these stages of realisation, the following general distinction has al
ready been established in what has gone before, namely, that according to the on
e form of reality, Spirit is confined to a certain specific form in which its Be
ing and self-consciousness appear, while according to the other, again, it is it
s absolute reality, in which it has the developed content of the Idea of Spirit
as its object. This form of reality is the true religion.
In accordance with this distinction, definite religion will in the following sec
tion be treated of first of all.

PART II

DEFINITE RELIGION

PART II

DEFINITE RELIGION DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT

WHEN we speak of definite religion, it is implied, in the first place, that reli
gion generally is taken as a genus, and the definite religions as species. This
relation of genus to species is, from one point of view, quite legitimate, as, f
or instance, when in other sciences we pass over from the universal to the parti
cular ; but there the particular is only understood in an empirical manner; it i
s a matter of experience that this or the other animal, this or that kind of jus
tice exists. In philosophical science it is not allowable to proceed in this way
. The particular cannot advance towards the universal ; on the contrary, it is t
he universal itself which resolves upon determination, upon particularisation ;
the Notion differentiates itself, makes a determination which originates with it
self or is its own act. Simultaneously with determinateness in general, existenc
e or definite Being and essential connection with an "Other" are posited. That w
hich is determined is for an " Other," and what is undetermined is not there at
all. That for which religion exists the definite existence of religion is consci
ousness. Religion has its reality as consciousness. What is to be understood by
the realisation of the Notion is that the content is determined by means of it,
both as regards the fact and the manner of its existence for consciousness. Our
course of procedure is as follows : We began with the consideration of the notio
n or conception religion, of what religion implicitly is. That is what it is for
us, as we have seen it. For it to attain to consciousness is, however, quite an
other matter. Or, to put it in other words, as we considered the conception of r
eligion, this was our thought, it existed in the medium of our thought, we thoug
ht the conception, and it had its reality in our thought. But religion is not me
rely this subjective element, but is essentially objective ; it has a mode of ex
istence of its own, and the first form of this existence is that of immediacy, w
here religion has not as yet itself advanced to thought, to reflection. This imm
ediacy, however, by its own onward impulse moves toward mediation, because it is
potentially thought, and in true religion it becomes for the first time known w
hat it essentially is, what its notion or conception is. True or actual religion
is adequate to its notion or conception. We now have to consider the course by
which true religion takes its rise. In its notion or conception religion is no r
eligion as yet, for it is essentially present as such in consciousness only. Thi
s is the meaning of what we are here considering, namely, the self-realisation o
f the Notion. The progress of the realisation has been already indicated in a ge
neral way : the Notion is, as it were, a capacity in Spirit ; it constitutes its
inmost truth ; but Spirit must attain to the knowledge of this truth ; not till
then does true religion become real and actual. It may be said of all religions
that they are religions, and correspond with the notion or conception of religi
on. At the same time, however, in being still limited, they do not correspond wi
th the notion, and yet they must contain it, or else they would not be religions
. But the notion or conception is present in them in different ways. At first th
ey contain it implicitly only. These definite religions are but particular momen
ts of the notion, and for that very reason they do not correspond with it, for i
t does not exist in an actual shape in them. In like manner, man certainly is im
plicitly free, but Africans and Asiatics are not free, because they do not posse
ss the consciousness of that which constitutes the notion or conception of man.
Religion is now to be considered in its determinate character. The highest that
is or can be attained to is that the determinateness should be the Notion itself
, where the limits are therefore annulled, and the religious consciousness is no
t distinguished from the Notion. This is the Idea, the perfectly realised Notion
, but this does not come before us until we reach the concluding division of our
subject.
It has been the work of Spirit throughout thousands of years to,work out the not
ion or conception of religion, and to make it the subject of consciousness. In t
his work the movement begins from immediacy and nature, and these must be overco
me. Immediacy is the natural element ; consciousness, however, is elevation abov
e nature ; natural consciousness is sensuous consciousness, as the natural will
is passion ; it is the individual which wills itself in accordance with its natu
ralness, its particularity it is sensuous knowing and sensuous willing. But reli
gion is the relation of Spirit to Spirit, the knowledge by Spirit of Spirit in i
ts truth, and not in its immediacy or naturalness. The determination or characte
risation of religion is the advance from naturalness to the notion ; this latter
is, to begin with, the inner element only, the true essence or potentiality, no
t the outer element of consciousness. Regarding this ambiguity, namely, that the
notion exists primarily or originally, while at the same time its first existen
ce is not its true primariness or originality, some further remarks will be made
later.
We have first to give the division of the subject, and to indicate the particula
r forms of these definite religions which have to be considered. To begin with,
however, this must be done in a general manner only.
The sphere we have first to deal with contains, accordingly, definite religion,
which, so far as its content is concerned, does not as yet go beyond determinate
ness. In the active process of emerging from immediacy, we do not yet find the f
reedom which has been truly conquered, but only liberation, which is still entan
gled in that from which it frees itself.
What we have now to consider first is the form of natural, immediate religion. I
n this primal natural religion consciousness is still natural consciousness, the
consciousness of sensuous desire. It is thus immediate. Here there does not as
yet exist any division of consciousness within itself, for this division or dual
ism implies that consciousness distinguishes its sensuous nature from what belon
gs to its essential Being, so that the natural is known only as mediated through
the Essential. It is here that it first becomes possible for religion to origin
ate.
In connection with this rising up to the Essential we have to consider the conce
ption of this exaltation in general. Here the object is defined in a positive wa
y, and this true element from which consciousness distinguishes itself is God. T
his exaltation or rising up is exactly what appears in a more abstract form in t
he proofs of the existence of God. In all these proofs there is one and the same
exaltation ; it is only the point of departure and the nature of this Essence w
hich are different. But this rising up to God, however it may be defined, is onl
y the one side. The other is the reverse process. God, in whatever way He may be
defined, brings Himself into relation with the subject which has thus lifted it
self. Here then comes in the question as to the manner in which the subject is c
haracterised or defined ; it, however, knows that it itself is what God is deter
mined to be.
The conscious turning of the subject toward this Essence has to be treated of li
kewise, and this introduces the aspect of Worship, the close union of the subjec
t with its Essence.
The division of the subject takes, therefore, the following form : . Natural Rel
igion. This is the unity of the spiritual and natural, and God is here conceived
of in this aspect as yet natural unity. Man in his immediacy represents merely
sensuous natural knowledge and natural volition. In so far as the moment of reli
gion is contained in this, and the moment of elevation is still shut up within t
he natural state, there is something present which is to be regarded as higher t
han anything merely immediate. This is magic.
. We have the division or dualism of consciousness within itself. This implies t
hat consciousness knows itself to be something merely natural, and distinguishes
from this the True, the Essential, in which this naturalness, this fmiteness ha
s no value, and is known to be a nullity. While in natural religion Spirit still
lives in neutrality with nature, God is now defined as the absolute Power or Su
bstance in which natural will the subject is something transient, accidental, se
lfless, and devoid of freedom. Here it is man's highest dignity that he should k
now himself to be a nullity.
At first, however, elevation of spirit above the natural is not carried through
in a consistent manner. On the contrary, there is still a frightful inconsistenc
y here, as is shown in the way in which the different spiritual and natural powe
rs are mixed up with one another. This intrinsically inconsistent elevation has
an historical existence in the three Oriental religions of Substance.
. But the entanglement of the natural and spiritual leads to the conflict of sub
jectivity, for the latter seeks to reinstate itself in its unity and universalit
y, and this conflict again has had its historical existence in three religions,
which constitute the religions of the transition to the stage of free subjectivi
ty. Since, however, in these too, as well as in the previous stages, Spirit has
not as yet completely subjected the natural element to itself, they constitute,
together with the preceding ones, the sphere
A. OF THE RELIGION OF NATURE.
In contrast with this, the second stage of definite religion, at which the eleva
tion of Spirit is carried through in a consistent manner in relation to the natu
ral element, is
B. THE RELIGION OF SPIRITUAL INDIVIDUALITY OR OF free SUBJECTIVITY.
It is here that the spiritual independent existence of the subject begins. Here
thought is what rules and determines, and the element of naturalness being merel
y a moment preserved within the process, is degraded to the state of what is a m
ere show or semblance, and is regarded as something which is accidental relative
ly to the Substantial. Its relation to the latter is such that it is only natura
l life, material form for the subject, or, in other words, is under the absolute
determination of the subject.
And here again, too, we get three forms : i. Inasmuch as the spiritual being-for
-self or independent existence thus brings itself into prominence, it is that wh
ich is held fast as reflection into itself, and as negation of the natural unity
. There is thus One God only who is in thought, and natural life is merely a pos
ited life, standing as such over against Him, having no substantial character of
its own in relation to Him, and existing only through the Essence of thought. T
his is the spiritually One, God, who is in Himself eternally unchangeable, in re
lation to whom what is of nature, of the world, of the finite generally, is posi
ted as something having an unessential character, and devoid of substantiality.
But this God thereby openly shows Himself, since it is only by the positing of t
he unessential that He is the essential, since it is only through that positing
that He even is at all ; and this unessential, this semblance or show of existen
ce, is not a manifestation of Him. This is the Religion of Sublimity. . The Natu
ral and the Spiritual are united, still they are not in immediate union, but in
a unity which implies that the Spiritual is what determines, and is so united wi
th the bodily element that this last does not stand over against it, but is mere
ly an organ, is its expression, in which it outwardly presents itself. This is t
he religion of divine outward manifestation, of divine corporeality, materiality
, naturalness,' and this is of such a kind that it is the appearing of subjectiv
ity, or else the selfmanifestation of subjectivity is present in it, not appeari
ng for others only, but appearing to itself. Thus this spiritual individuality i
s not the limitless individuality of pure thought ; it has a spiritual character
only. Thus on the one hand the Natural is, as it were, the body of the Spiritua
l, and owing to the fact that the Spiritual thus makes use of a body, the subjec
t is on the other hand determined as finite. This is the Religion of Beauty.
In the religion of sublimity the one God is the Lord, and individuals stand rela
ted to Him as servants. In the religion of beauty, too, the subject has purified
 itself from its mere immediate knowing and willing, but it has also retained it
s will and knows itself as free, and knows itself thus because it has completed
the negation of its natural will, and as moral has a free affirmative relation t
o God. But the subject has not as yet passed through the consciousness, and thro
ugh the opposition of good and evil, and so is still affected with naturalness.
If, therefore, the religion of beauty forms the stage of reconciliation as contr
asted with the sphere of sublimity, this reconciliation is still immediate recon
ciliation, because it is not yet mediated through consciousness of the oppositio
n.
. The religion in which the notion, the independent, self-determined, concrete c
ontent, has its beginning, and is the end or purpose which the universal powers
of nature or the gods of the religion of beauty serve, is the Religion of Extern
al Utility or Conformity to an End. We have here a concrete content which compri
ses determinate characteristics within itself, implying that the hitherto separa
te individual powers are made subservient to one single end or purpose. The part
icular subject has hitherto been something other than these divine powers ; thes
e constitute the divine content generally, and the particular subject is human c
onsciousness, the finite end. The divine content is now of use to that culminati
ng point of subjectivity which was wanting to the content in the religion of bea
uty, as a means whereby it can fully develop itself. Thus the form under which r
eligion here presents itself is that of outward finite purpose, or adaptation to
an end. The idea of Spirit determines itself on its own account and by its own
act ; it is clearly itself the end, and this end is just the notion or conceptio
n of Spirit, the notion which realises itself. Here the Spiritual too is an end,
has the intrinsically concrete determinations within itself, but here too these
are still finite and represent a limited end, which consequently is not as yet
the relation of Spirit to itself. In its gods the particular spirit seeks its ow
n subjective end only ; it seeks itself, not the absolute content.
The religion of utility or adaptation to an end, in which an end is posited in G
od, though not yet as the absolute end, may also be called the Religion of Fate,
because that end itself is not as yet a pure spiritual end, but is in its form
as a particular end forthwith posited in God. This particular end, when treated
thus, is void of rational character as against other ends which would have just
as much right to exist as it.
This division of the subject must not be taken in a merely subjective sense; it
is, on the contrary, the necessary pne in the objective sense of the nature of S
pirit. Spirit, in the particular form in which it appears in religion, is first
of all natural religion. What next takes place is that reflection enters, Spirit
becomes free within itself, becomes the subjective generally, which notwithstan
ding issues out of the unity of nature, and is still related to it. This is cond
itioned freedom. The third stage is represented by the willing of Spirit to dete
rmine itself within itself, and this accordingly appears in the form of an end,
of adaptation to an end on its own account. This, too, is at first still finite
and limited. Such are the fundamental determinations, which are the moments or s
tages of the development of the Notion, and at the same time of concrete develop
ment.
These stages may be compared to those of the ages of man. The child is still in
the primal immediate unity of the will with nature, as representing both his own
nature and the nature which surrounds him. The second stage, adolescence, when
individuality is in process of becoming independent, is the living spirituality,
the vitality of Spirit, which, while setting no end before it as yet, moves for
ward, has aspirations, and takes an interest in everything which conies in its w
ay. The third is the age of manhood ; this is the period of work for a particula
r end, to which the man makes himself subservient, to which he devotes his energ
ies. Finally, old age might be considered as a last stage, which having the Univ
ersal before it as an end, and recognising this end, has turned back from the pa
rticular interests of life and work to the universal aim, the absolute final end
, and has, as it were, gathered itself together out of the wide and manifold int
erests of actual outward existence and concentrated itself in the infinite depth
s of its inner life. Such are the determinations which follow in a logical manne
r from the nature of the Notion. At the close it will become apparent that even
the original immediacy does not exist as immediacy, but is something posited. Th
e child itself is something begotten.

FIRST DIVISION.

I. IMMEDIATE RELIGION.

Immediate religion is what has in recent times been called natural religion. It
coincides with the religion of nature in so far as thought is brought into promi
nence in the latter.
What in recent times has been understood by " the religion of nature " is what m
an is capable of discovering and knowing of God by his own unassisted powers, by
means of the natural light of his reason. Thus it has been customary to contras
t it with revealed religion, and to maintain that what he has in his reason can
alone be true for men. But natural reason is a wrong expression ; for what we un
derstand by " natural " is the natural as sensuous, the Immediate. The nature of
reason is rather the notion or conception of reason. It belongs to the very ess
ence of Spirit to rise above nature. Natural reason in its true meaning is Spiri
t, reason according to the Notion, and this is in no kind of opposition to revea
led religion. God, the Spirit, can only reveal Himself to Spirit, to reason.
Merely metaphysical religion, to speak more precisely, has in recent times been
called natural religion, in so far as metaphysic has conveyed the same meaning a
s thoughts of the understanding, ideas formed by the understanding. This is that
modern religion of the understanding which is known as Deism, the result of Enl
ightenment that knowing of God as an abstract something, to which abstraction al
l attributes of God, all faith, are reduced. This cannot be properly called natu
ral religion ; it is the ultimate point reached by the extreme development of th
e abstract understanding, as the result of the Critique of Kant. It remains for
us now to refer to a popular conception which, because of the sense attached in
it to "natural religion," makes a definite claim upon our consideration here. "W
hat we refer to is the idea that immediate religion must be the true, the finest
, the divine religion ; and further, that it must, too, have been historically t
he first form of religion. According to the division we have made, it is the mos
t imperfect, and for that reason the first ; and according to this other idea, i
t is the first, too, but also the truest religion. Natural religion is, as alrea
dy remarked, so characterised that in it the Spiritual is in this original, untr
oubled, undisturbed unity with the Natural. This characterisation is, however, t
aken here as the absolute and true one, and this religion therefore is regarded
as the divine religion. Man, it is said, had a true original religion in the sta
te of innocence, before that division or separation which is known as the Fall h
ad as yet appeared in his intelligence. This is founded a priori on the idea tha
t spirits were created by God as the absolutely Good, as images of Himself, and
these being in conformity with God, stood in an absolute and essential connectio
n with Him. Under these conditions, Spirit too lived in unity with nature ; it w
as not as yet reflected into itself, had not as yet designed this separation fro
m nature. As regards its practical side, as regards its will, it still remained
in the region of happy faith, was still in the state of innocence, and was absol
utely good. It is with free-will that guilt first takes its rise, and this means
that passion establishes itself in a freedom of its own, that the subject takes
out of itself merely such qualities as it has distinguished from what belongs t
o nature. Plants are in this state of unity ; their life is lived in this unity
of nature. The individual plant does not become untrue to its nature ; it become
s what it ought to be ; in it Being and destined character are not different. Th
is separation in anything between what ought-to-be, and its nature, first makes
its appearance with free-will, and this last is first found in reflection ; but
this very reflection and division was not present, we are told, originally, and
freedom was as identical with law and rational will as the individual plant is i
dentical with its nature.
In like manner people imagine that in the state of innocence man is perfect in r
egard to his theoretical consciousness. He seems to determine himself here as id
entical with nature and the true conception of things ; his own true being and t
hat of the things have not as yet separated from each other ; he sees into their
very heart ; nature is not as yet a negative element to him, not something obsc
ured. Not until separation appears does the sensuous rind which separates him fr
om them grow around these things ; nature in this way sets up a wall of partitio
n against me.. Thus it is said that in such a relation Spirit knows the universa
l true nature of things, having an immediate knowledge, understanding of them in
perception or picture-thought, just because perception is a knowing, a seeing c
learly, which may be compared with the state of somnambulism, in which the soul
or life returns to this unity of inwardness with its world. Thus the nature of t
hings had, it is supposed, lain open to that original perceiving understanding,
because for it that nature is emancipated from the external conditions of space
and time, from the character ascribed to things by the understanding. It follows
from this that in this unity Spirit, in the exercise of free imagination, which
is no kind of caprice, sees things according to their notion, according to thei
r true nature, and the things seen are determined through the notion, appear in
everlasting beauty, and stand above that stuntedness which conditions phenomena.
In short, Spirit has had before it and has beheld the Universal in the Particul
ar in its pure outward shape, and the Particular, the Individual in its universa
lity as a divine, god-like vitality. And man, in having thus grasped nature in.
its inmost character, and recognised its true relation to the corresponding side
of his own nature, has taken up a relation to nature as to something which is a
n adequate garment for Spirit, and one which is not destructive of organisation.
With this general conception the idea is bound up that Spirit has consequently
been in possession of all art and science, and it is further imagined that if ma
n is found within the universal harmony, he beholds harmonious substance -God Hi
mself in an immediate manner ; not as an abstraction of thought, but as a defini
te Being.
Such is the general idea given of that primitive religion which is supposed to b
e the immediate religion, and historically the first. Perhaps, too, an attempt i
s made to confirm this idea by appealing to one aspect of the Christian religion
. We are told in the Bible of a Paradise ; many peoples have the idea of such a
Paradise as lying behind them, and lament over it as a lost one, thinking of it
as the goal for which man yearns, and to which he will attain. Such a Paradise,
whether it belong to the past or be looked for in the future, is then filled up
with moral or unmoral content, according to the stage of culture which has been
reached by the peoples in question.
In reference to the criticism of such a general conception as this, it must be s
tated, in the first place, that such a conception is, as regards its essential s
ubstance, a necessary one. The Universal, the inner element, is the divine unity
in a human reflex, or, in other words, the thought of the man who stands within
this unity as such a reflex. Thus men have the idea that Being-in-and-foritself
, true Being, is a harmony which has not as yet passed over into division or dua
lism, which has not yet broken up into the dualism of good and evil, nor into th
e subordinate dualism represented by the multiplicity, intensity, and passion of
human needs. This unity, this condition in which the contradictions are resolve
d, undoubtedly contains truth, and is in entire agreement with the Notion. But t
he more precise shape under which this unity is represented as a condition in ti
me, as a unity which ought not to have been lost, and which was only lost by acc
ident, is somethiug altogether different. This is a confounding of what is first
as representing the Notion with the reality of consciousness, as this reality i
s adequate or proportionate to the Notion.
We must therefore do this general conception justice. It contains in itself the
necessary Idea of the divine selfconsciousness, of the serene untroubled conscio
usness of the absolutely divine Essence. In it this fundamental determination mu
st not only be allowed to be correct, but also to be a true idea from which to s
tart. This idea is that man is no merely natural being as such, no mere animal,
but Spirit. In so far as he is Spirit, he has, in short, this universality withi
n himself, the universality of rationality, which is concrete thought in its act
ivity. He has the instinct, too, to know the universal, to know that nature is r
ational ; not, indeed, that it is conscious reason, but that it has reason withi
n itself.
Thus the spirit knows, too, that God is rational, is absolute reason, the absolu
te activity of reason; and thus it has instinctively the belief that it must kno
w God as well as nature, must find its essence in God, if it takes up toward Him
an attitude of rational investigation.
This unity of man with God, with nature in the general sense as Potentiality, is
undoubtedly the substantial, essential determination. Man ?s reason, is Spirit
; by means of this quality or capacity he is implicitly the True. That, however,
is the Notion, Potentiality, and in forming an idea of what the Notion, the Pot
entiality is, people usually end in representing it to themselves as something b
elonging either to the past or else to the future, not as being an inner element
which exists on its own account, but in external, immediate existence, in -some
shape or other, as a state or condition. It is thus the form of the existence,
or the mode of the state oiily, which is in question. The Notion is the inner el
ement, the Potentiality, which has not yet, however, entered upon existence. The
question therefore presents itself, What is there to prevent us from believing
that the Potentiality has been present from the beginning as actual existence ?
What prevents this is the nature of Spirit. Spirit is only what it makes itself
become. This bringing out of that which it potentially is, is the positing of th
e Notion in existence.
The Notion must realise itself, and the realisation of the Notion, the active pr
ocesses by means of "which it actualises itself, and the shapes and manifestatio
ns of this nctualisatiou which are at hand, have an outward appearance which is
something different from what the simple Notion is within itself. The Notion, th
e Potentiality, is iiot a state, an existence. On the contrary, it is to the rea
lisation of the Notion that states, existence, are due, and this realisation mus
t be of a quite different kind from what is contained in that description of Par
adise.
Man exists essentially as Spirit ; Spirit does not, however, exist in an immedia
te manner. It is, on the contrary, its essential nature to be for itself, or sel
f-conscious, to be free, to place the natural over against itself, to escape fro
m its immersion in nature, to sever itself from nature, and only through and as
following on this severance, to reconcile itself with nature, and not with natur
e alone, but with its own Essence too, with its truth.
It is this unity, which thus springs from division or dualism, which is alone se
lf-conscious, true unity ; it is not . that state of natural unity which is a on
eness not worthy of Spirit, not the unity of Spirit.
If that state be designated the state of innocence, it may appear objectionable
to say that man must come out of the state of innocence and become guilty. The s
tate 'of innocence is that state in which there is nothing good and nothingevil
for man : it is the condition of animals, of unconsciousness, where man does not
know either good or evil, where that which he desires is not determined as eith
er the one or the other ; for if he has no knowledge of evil, he has no knowledg
e of good either.
The state of man is the state of imputation, of liability to imputation. Guilt i
s in the general sense imputation. By guilt we usually understand that a man has
done evil ; the term is taken in its evil sense. Guilt in the general sense, ho
wever, means that man may have something attributed or imputed to him, that what
is done is his act of knowledge and of will.
The truth is that that original natural unity in its form as existence is not a
state of innocence, but rather of barbarism, of passion, of savagery or wildness
, in fact. Animals are not good, nor are they evil ; but man in an animal condit
ion is wild, is evil, is as he ought not to be. As he is by nature, he is as he
ought not to be ; what, on the contrary, he is, he must be by means of Spirit, b
y the knowing and willing of that which is right. This principle, that if man is
in accordance with nature only, he is not as he ought to be, has been expressed
by saying that man is evil by nature.
It is implied by this that man ought to contemplate himself as he is, so far as
he merely lives in accordance with nature and follows his heart, that is to say,
follows what merely springs up spontaneously.
We find in the Bible a well-known conception, called in an abstract fashion the
Fall, and expressed in an outward and mythical shape. This idea is a very profou
nd one, and represents what is not merely a kind of accidental history, but rath
er the everlasting necessary history of mankind.
If the Idea, that which has an absolute essential existence, be represented in a
mythical way, in the form of an occurrence, inconsistency is unavoidable, and t
hus it could not fail to be the case that this representation too should have el
ements of inconsistency in it. The Idea in its living form can be grasped and pr
esented by thought alone.
That representation, then, is not without an element of inconsistency, but the e
ssential outlines of the Idea are contained in it, namely, that man, since he is
implicitly this unity, and because he is Spirit, comes out of the natural, out
of this Potentiality into differentiation, and that the act of judgment, the jud
icial trial in reference to himself and the natural, must come in.
It is thus that he comes to know of God and of goodness. If he has a knowledge o
f them, he has them as the object of his consciousness ; if he has them as the o
bject of his consciousness, then the individual distinguishes himself from them.

Consciousness contains a double element within itself, namely, this division or

dualism. Now it is true that it is sometimes said that this ought not to have be
en. But it is involved in the conception of man that he should reach rational kn
owledge, or, in other words, it is the very nature of Spirit to become that cons
ciousness. In so far as the division and reflection represent freedom, implying
that man has a choice between the two sides of the antithesis, or stands as lord
over Good and Evil, we have a point of view that ought not to exist, that must
be absorbed in something higher. It is not, however, one which should not make i
ts appearance at all, the truth rather being that this standpoint of dualism, in
conformity with its own nature, terminates in reconciliation. And both aspects
are included iii the narrative, namely, that reflection, consciousness, freedom,
contain evil, wickedness within themselves that which ought not to be but that
they likewise contain the principle, the source of healing, namely, freedom.
The one aspect of the truth, namely, that the standpoint of reflection is riot t
o be permanent, is directly im plied in the statement that a crime has been comm
itted, denoting something which is not to be, not to remain, Thus it is said tha
t the serpent beguiled man with its lies. The pride of freedom is here the attit
ude which ought not to be.
The other side, namely, that that severance or division is to exist, in so far a
s it contains the well-spring of his healing, is expressed in the words of God :
" Behold ! Adam is become as one of us." It is thus not only no lie of the serp
ent's, but, as a matter of fact, God Himself corroborates it. This, however, is
usually overlooked, and not mentioned at all.
We may therefore say that it is the everlasting history of the freedom of man th
at he should come out of this state of dulness or torpor in which he is in his e
arliest years ; that he should come, in fact, to the light of consciousness ; or
, to put it more precisely, that both good and evil should exist for him.
If we draw out what is actually implied in this representation, we find it to be
the very same as what is contained in the Idea, namely, that man, Spirit, reach
es the state of reconciliation, or, to put it superficially, that he becomes goo
d, fulfils his destiny. For the attainment of this reconciliation, this standpoi
nt of consciousness, of reflection, of division or dualism, is just as necessary
as the abandonment of it.
That in this state man has had the highest knowledge of nature and of God, has o
ccupied the highest standpoint of philosophical knowledge, is an absurd idea, wh
ich, moreover, proves itself historically to be wholly unfounded.
It is imagined that this natural unity is the true attitude of man in religion.
Yet he must have already been struck by the circumstance that this Paradise, thi
s age of Saturn, is represented as something that is lost. This alone is suffici
ent to indicate that such an idea does not contain the Truth, for in divine hist
ory there is no past, and no contingency. If the existing Paradise has been lost
, in whatever way this may have happened, it is something accidental, something
arbitrary, which must haye come into the divine life from the outside. That this
Paradise is lost proves that it is not absolutely essential as a state. The tru
ly Divine, that which is in conformity witli its essential nature, is not capabl
e of being lost, is everlasting, and by its very nature abiding. This loss of Pa
radise must rather be considered as a divine necessity, and as included in the n
ecessity that this state should cease ; that imagined Paradise sinks to the leve
l of a moment or element in that divine totality a moment which is not the absol
utely True.
The unity of man with nature is a favourite and pleasant -sounding expression. E
ightly understood, it means the unity of man with his own nature. But his true n
ature is freedom, free spirituality, the thinking knowledge of the absolutely ex
isting Universal ; and as thus fixed this unity is no longer a natural, immediat
e unity.
Plants are in this condition of unbroken unity. The spiritual, on the contrary,
is not in immediate unity with its nature ; the truth rather is, that in order t
o attain to the return to itself, it has to work its way through its infinite du
alism or division, and to win the state of accomplished reconciliation by wrestl
ing for it. This is by no means a state of reconciliation which is there from th
e outset, and this true unity is attained to by spirit only by separation from i
ts immediate character. People speak of innocent children, and lament that this
innocence, this love, this trust get lost ; or they speak of the innocence of si
mple peoples, who are, however, rarer than is generally thought. But this innoce
nce is not the true position of man ; the morality which is free is not that of
the child ; it stands higher than the innocence just spoken of, it is self-consc
ious willing ; and in this the true attitude is for the first time reached.
In his original dependence upon nature man may either be gentler or more barbaro
us. Within a temperate zone and this is the principal agent in deciding the matt
er where nature bestows upon him the means of satisfying his physical wants, his
natural character may remain gentle, benevolent, and his natural state be marke
d by simple needs and conditions, and travellers' descriptions supply us with pl
easant pictures of such a state of things. But these gentle habits are either li
nked with barbarous, horrible customs, and with a state of complete brutishness,
or else such states of simplicity depend upon accidental circumstances, such as
climate or an insular situation. In every case, however, they are without that
universal self-consciousness and its results which alone constitute the glory of
Spirit. Besides, the observations and descriptions, such as we have, of those r
eputedly innocent peoples, have reference merely to the outward goodhumoured con
duct of men toward strangers, but do not enter into the inner phases of their li
fe constituted by their mutual relations and actual circumstances. Over against
all the opinions and desires of a sickly philanthropy, which wishes men back aga
in in that state of original innocence, stands reality itself, and in essential
contrast to all such views stands the real truth of things, namely, that such na
turalness is not that for which man is destined. And as to the state of childhoo
d, well, passion, selfishness, and evil exhibit themselves there too.
But if it be said that man originally found himself in the centre of nature, saw
into the heart of things, and so forth, we reply that these are mistaken ideas.
Two kinds of elements are to be distinguished in things : first, their definite
character, their quality, their special character in relation to other things.
This is the natural side, the finite aspect. In this their special character thi
ngs may be more familiar to a man in his natural state; he may have a much more
definite knowledge of their particular qualities than in the civilised state. Th
is is an aspect which was discussed even in the philosophy of the Middle Ages, i
n the Signatura rerum, the external quality through which the special peculiar n
ature of a thing is indicated, so that the specific peculiarity of its nature is
at once suggested by this external quality. This may be found in men in the nat
ural state, and in the animal too this connection between itself and external qu
ality is much more marked than in educated men. An animal is driven by instinct
toward that which it requires for its sustenance ; it consumes only certain thin
gs, and leaves all else untouched. Its relation to things consists in this, that
it places itself over against its other only, not what is other in general, and
does away with the opposition. Thus it has an instinct for the herbs, by means
of which it is cured when ill. In the same way the deadly look, the smell of pla
nts are, for the natural man, indications of their hurtfulness, of their poisono
us character. He is more sensitive to anything harmful than the civilised man is
, and the instinct of animals is still surer than the natural consciousness of m
an, for this last impairs animal instinct. It may thus be said that the natural
man sees into the heart of things, apprehends their specific qualities more corr
ectly. This, however, is the case only with reference to such specific qualities
as are wholly and exclusively of a finite character. This instinct sees into th
e heart of particular things, but into the source of the life of things generall
y, into this divine heart, its glance cannot penetrate. The very same conditions
are found in sleep, in somnambulism. Experience shows that men have a natural c
onsciousness of this kind. The natural consciousness has become quiescent here,
and, on the other hand, the inner sense has awakened, and of this latter it may
be said that its knowledge is far more in identity with the world and with surro
unding things than that of the waking state. Thence it comes that this condition
has been held to be higher than the healthy one. It can actually happen that me
n may have a consciousness of things which take place a thousand miles away. Amo
ng barbarous peoples such knowledge and such presentiments are to be found in fa
r greater degree than among civilised nations. Such knowledge, however, is confi
ned to special or single occurrences and the fate of individuals. The connection
of this definite individual with definite things which form a part of his consc
iousness is awakened, but these are in this case merely single or individual thi
ngs and occurrences.
But all this is not yet the true heart of things. That is only to be found in th
e Notion, the law, the universal Idea; it is not the slumber of Spirit which can
reveal the true heart of the world to us. The heart of a planet is the relation
of its distance from the sun, of its orbit, &c. This is the truly rational elem
ent, and is only attainable for the man of scientific culture, who is free from
bondage to the immediate sensuous experience of sight, hearing, &c., who has wit
hdrawn his senses into himself, and approaches the objects before him in the exe
rcise of free thought. This rationality and this knowledge are a result only of
the mediation of thought, and only occur in the final and spiritual stage of the
existence of man. That instinctive knowledge of nature is explained as sense-pe
rception, and this is nothing else but immediate consciousness. If we ask, " Wha
t has been perceived ? " it is not sensuous nature superficially considered (a k
ind of perception which may also be attributed to animals), but it is the essent
ial being of Nature. But the Essence of nature as a system of laws is nothing el
se than the Universal. It is nature looked at in its universality, the system of
self-developing life, and it is this development in its true form^ not nature i
n its individual form, in which it exists for sense-perception or pictorial thou
ght. The form of the Natural is nature as permeated by thought. But thinking is
not something immediate : it begins indeed from data, but raises itself above th
e sensuous manifoldness of what is given, negates the form of particularity, for
gets what takes place under sensuous conditions, and produces the Universal, the
True. This is not action of an immediate kind, but is the work of mediation ; i
t is the going out of finitude. It is of no avail to contemplate the heavens, ho
wever piously, innocently, and believingly we may do it; it is l>y thinking alon
e that the essential element can be reached. Accordingly, that assertion of the
existence of a direct sight or vision of things, of an immediate consciousness,
proves itself to be worthless whenever we make inquiries regarding what ought to
be seen. The knowing of nature in its truth is a mediated knowledge, and not im
mediate. It is the same with the will. The will is good in so far as it wills th
at which is good, right, and moral ; but this is something quite other than the
immediate will. This latter is the will which confines itself to the sphere of p
articularity and fiuitude, which wills individual things as such. The Good is, o
n the. contrary, the Universal. In order that the will may attain to the willing
of good, a process of mediation by which it shall have purified itself from suc
h finite willing must necessarily have taken place. Such purification is the edu
cation and work of mediation, and this cannot be something immediate and primary
. For the rational knowledge of God this is equally essential. God being the cen
tre of all truth the pure truth without any kind of limitation in order to arriv
e at Him, it is still more imperative that man should have laboured to free hims
elf from his natural particularity of knowing and of willing. Moreover, what has
been asserted all along applies specially to the idea that the true consciousne
ss of God lay in this natural unity of man, in this unity as yet unbroken by ref
lection. Spirit exists only for Spirit ; Spirit in its truth exists for the free
Spirit only, and it is this latter which has learnt to disregard immediate perc
eption, which abstracts from understanding, from this reflection, and the like.
In theological language, this is spirit which has come to the knowledge of sin ;
in other words, to the consciousness of the infinite separation of its independ
ent being from unity, and which has returned out of that state of separation to
unity and reconciliation. Natural immediacy is therefore not the^ true form of r
eligion, but it is rather its lowest and least true stage.
Ordinary thought sets up an Ideal, and it is necessary that it should do so. In
so doing, it gives expression to what the True essentially is ; but what is defe
ctive here is that it gives that ideal the character of something pertaining to
the future and the past, thereby rendering it something which is not present, an
d so directly giving it the character of a. finite element. The empirical consci
ousness is consciousness of the finite ; what exists on its own account or in an
d for itself is the inner element. Reflection distinguishes the one from the oth
er, and with justice ; but what is defective here is that reflection takes up an
abstract attitude, and yet at the same time requires that that which has essent
ial existence should manifest itself and be present in the world of external con
tingency. Reason grants their sphere to chance, to arbitrariness, but knows that
the True is still present even in this thoroughly confused world, as it appears
to external observation and upon the surface. The ideal of a state is quite sou
nd, only it is not realised. If we conceive realisation to mean that all things
the general conditions, the developments of justice, of politics, of practical n
eeds are to be commensurate with the Idea, we find that such a sphere is inadequ
ate to the ideal, and yet the substantial Idea is nevertheless actual and presen
t within it. It is not the confused state of existence alone which constitutes t
he Present, and this definite existence is not totality. That by means of which
the ideal is determined may be present, but the actual presence of the Idea is n
ot as yet recognised, because the Idea is contemplated with finite consciousness
only. It is quite possible to recognise the substantial kernel of actuality thr
ough this outer rind, but for this severe labour is requisite. In order to gathe
r the rose in the cross of the Present, \ve must take that cross itself upon us.

Finally, it has been sought to establish the existence of the Idea historically
by going back to a beginning of the human race marked by the features above indi
cated. Among many peoples, remains and indications have been found which present
a contrast to the other elements which constitute these ideas, or, it may be, w
e come upon scientific knowledge which does not seem to be in harmony with their
present state, or which could not have been parallel with their initial state o
f culture. The remains of such a better condition of existence have been made th
e basis of conclusions as to a previous state of perfection, a condition of comp
lete morality. Among the people of India, for example, great wisdom and varied k
nowledge have been found, to which their present state of culture does not corre
spond. This and many other similar circumstances have been looked upon as traces
of a better past. The writings of the monks of the Middle Ages, for instance, h
ave certainly often not come out of their own heads, but are remnants of a bette
r past.
At the time of the first discovery of Indian literature, much was heard of the e
normous chronological numbers ; they seemed to point to a very long duration of
time, and to yield wholly new disclosures. In recent times, however, it has been
found necessary to give up these numbers entirely, for they express no prosaic
conditions whatever as regards years or recollection of the past. Further, the I
ndian peoples are said to possess great astronomical knowledge ; they have formu
lae in order to calculate the eclipses of the sun and moon, which, however, they
use in a wholly mechanical way, without any foreknowledge or investigation of t
he presuppositions, or the method and the formula they employ. Quite lately, how
ever, the astronomical and mathemathical knowledge of the Indian peoples has bee
n more thoroughly examined into, and an original state of culture is undoubtedly
to be recognised in it. In these branches of knowledge they had not, however, .
got nearly so far as the Greeks. The astronomical formulae are so needlessly inv
olved that they are far behind the methods of the Greeks, and still further behi
nd .our own'; and true science is precisely that which seeks to reduce its probl
ems to the simplest elements. Those complicated formulae point, no doubt, to a p
raiseworthy ;diligence, to painstaking effort with regard to the problems -in qu
estion, but more than that is not to be found in them: long-continued observatio
ns lead to such knowledge. So then this wisdom of the Indian peoples and the Egy
ptians has diminished in proportion as further acquaintance has been made with i
t, and it still continues to diminish day by day. The knowledge reached is eithe
r to 'be referred to other sources, or is in itself of very trifling import. Thu
s the whole idea of the paradisiacal beginning has now proved itself to be a poe
m of which the Notion is the foundation ; only, this state of existence has been
taken as an immediate one, instead of its being recognised that it appears for
the first time as mediation.
We now proceed to the closer consideration of the religion of nature. Its specif
ic character is in a general sense the'unity of the Natural and Spiritual, in su
ch wise that the abjective side God is posited as something natural, and conscio
usness is limited to the determinateness of nature. This natural element is part
icular existence, not . nature generally viewed as a whole, as an organic totali
ty. Ideas such as these would already be universal ideas, wlrich do not as yet a
ctually appear at this first stage. Nature, as a whole, is posited as units or p
articulars ; classes, species, belong to a further stage of reflection and of th
e mediation of thought. This particular natural object, this heaven, this sun, t
his animal, this man these immediate natural forms of existence are known as God
. The question as to what content is found ,in this idea of God may here be left
undetermined to begin with, and at this stage it is something indefinite, an un
defined power or force which cannot as yet be filled up. But since that indefini
teness is not as yet Spirit in its true character, the determinations in Spirit
in. this form are contingent, they become true only when it is true Spirit, whic
h is consciousness, and which posits them.
The first determination, the beginning of the religion of nature, therefore, is
that Spirit is found in an immediate, particular mode of existence.
The religion of nature from the first contains in it the spiritual moment or ele
ment, and therefore essentially involves the thought that what is spiritual is '
for man what is highest. This at once excludes tlie idea that the religion of na
ture consists in worshipping natural objects as God ; that, indeed, plays a part
here, but it is a subordinate part. Yet in the very worst religion the Spiritua
l is to man as man higher than the Natural : the sun is not higher for him than
what is spiritual.
The religion of nature, in this its commencement as immediate religion, means th
at the Spiritual, a man, even in the natural mode of existence, ranks as what is
( highest. That religion has not the merely external, physicallynatural element
as its object, but the spiritually-natural, a definite man as this actual prese
nt man. This is not the Idea of man, the Adam Kadmon, the original man, the Son
of God these are more developed conceptions, which are present only through thou
ght and for thought ; and therefore it is not the conception of man in his unive
rsal essentiality, but of this definite actual natural man ; it is the religion
of the Spiritual, but in its condition of externality, naturalness, immediacy. W
e have an interest in getting acquainted with the religion of nature for this re
ason also, in order that we may even in it bring the truth before consciousness
that God has at all times been to man something belonging to the Present, and in
order that we may abandon the conception of God as an abstract Being beyond the
present. With reference to this stage of the religion of nature which we cannot
hold to be worthy of the name of religion we must, in order to understand it, f
orget the ideas and thoughts which are, it may be, thoroughly familiar to us, an
d which even pertain to the superficial nature of our education and culture.
For natural consciousness, which is what we have here before us, the prosaic cat
egories, such as cause and effect, have as yet no value, and natural things are
not yet degraded into external things.
Religion has its soil in Spirit only. The spiritual knows itself as the Power ov
er the natural, and that nature is not what exists on its own account, or in and
for itself. Those categories just spoken of are the categories of the understan
ding, in which nature is conceived of as the Other of Spirit, and Spirit as the
True. It is from this fundamental determination that religion has its first begi
nning.
Immediate religion, on the contrary, is that in which Spirit is still natural, i
n which Spirit has not as yet made the distinction of itself as the universal Po
wer from itself as what is particular, contingent, transitory, and accidental. T
his distinction, namely, the antitheses of universal Spirit as universal Power a
nd essential Being, and subjective existence with its contingency, has not yet a
ppeared, and forms the second stage within the religion of nature.
Here in the primal immediate religion, in this immediacy, man has as yet no high
er Power than himself. There is perhaps a power over contingent life and its pur
poses and interests, but this is no essential power in the sense of being inhere
ntly universal, being rather found in man himself. The Spiritual here exists in
a particular and immediate form.
We may indeed be able to understand and think this form of religion, for in this
case we still have it before our thoughts as an object. But it is not possible
for us enter into the experience of it, into the feeling of it; just in the same
way as we may perhaps understand a dog without being.able to enter experimental
ly into its sensations. For to do this would mean to fill up entirely the totali
ty of the subject with a similar particular determination, so that it would beco
me our determinateness. Even into religions which approach more nearly to our mo
des of thought we cannot enter experimentally in this way ; they cannot become f
or a single moment so much our own particular religion that we should be able, f
or example, to worship a Grecian statue of a god, however beautiful that statue
might be. And, moreover, the stage of immediate religion lies at the farthest di
stance from us, since, even in order to make it intelligible to ourselves, we ar
e obliged to forget all the forms of our own culture.
We must regard man immediately, as he exists for himself alone upon the earth, a
nd thus at the very beginning, as wholly without reflection or the power of risi
ng up to thought. It is wiih the entrance of thought that more worthy conception
s of God first appear.
Here man' is seen in his immediate personal strength and passion, in the exercis
e and attitude of immediate willing. He asks no theoretical questions yet, such
as " Who made that ? " &c. This separation of objects into a contingent and an e
ssential side, into that of causality and that of what is merely dependent, mere
ly an effect, does not as yet exist for him.
It is the same with the will. This dualism or division is not as yet present in
it, there is as yet no repression of itself within it. In willing, the theoretic
al element is what we call the Universal, right, law, established determinations
, boundaries for the subjective will. These are thoughts, universal forms which
belong to thought, to freedom.
These are distinguished from subjective caprice, passion, inclination; all this
is repressed, dominated by meaus of this Universal, trained into harmony with th
is Universal ; the natural will becomes transformed into a willing and acting in
accordance with such universal points of view.
Man is therefore still undivided as regards his willing : here it is the passion
and wildness of his will which holds sway. In the formation of his ideas, likew
ise, he is pent up in this undivided state, in this state of torpor and dulness.

This state is only the primal uncivilised reliance of Spirit upon itself : a cer
tain fear, a consciousness of negation is indeed present here, but not as yet, h
owever, the fear of the Lord, that of contingency, rather, of the powers of natu
re, which show themselves as mighty against him.
Fear -of the powers of nature, of the sun, of thunderstorms, &c., is here not as
yet fear which might be called religious fear, for this has its seat in freedom
. The fear of God is a different fear from the fear of natural forces. It is sai
d that " fear is the beginning of wisdom : " this fear cannot present itself in
immediate religion. It first appears in man when he knows himself to be powerles
s in his particularity, when his particularity trembles within him, and when he
has accomplished in himself this abstraction from that particularity in order to
exist as free Spirit. When the natural element in man thus trembles, he raises
himself above it, he renounces it, he has taken higher ground for himself, and p
asses over to thought, to knowledge. It is not, however, fear in this higher sen
se only that is not present here, but even the fear of the powers of nature, so
far as it enters at all at this first stage of the religion of nature, changes r
ound into its opposite, and becomes magic.
(a.) Magic.
The absolutely primary form of religion, to which we give the name of magic, con
sists in this, that the Spiritual is the ruling power over nature. This spiritua
l element does not yet exist, however, as Spirit ; it is not yet found in its un
iversality, but is merely the particular, contingent, empirical self-consciousne
ss of man, which, although it is only mere passion, knows itself to be higher in
its self-consciousness than nature knows that it is a power ruling over nature.

Two different things are to be remarked here :

. In so far as immediate self-consciousness knows that this power lies within it
, that it is the seat of this power, it at once marks itself off in that state i
n which it is such a power from its ordinary condition.
The man who is occupied with ordinary things has, when he goes about his simple
business, particular objects before him. He then knows that he has to do with th
ese only, as, for example, in fishing or the chase, and he limits his energies t
o these particular objects alone. But the consciousness of himself as a power ov
er the universal power of nature, and over the vicissitudes or changes of nature
, is something quite different from the consciousness of that ordinary manner of
existence with its occupations and various activities.
Here the individual knows that he must transplant himself into a higher state in
order to have that power. This state is a gift belonging to particular persons,
who have to learn by tradition all those means and ways by which such power can
be exercised. A select number of individuals who are sensible of the presence o
f this sombre subjective quality within themselves, repair for instruction to th
e older ones.
. This power is a direct power over nature in general, and is not to be likened
to the indirect power, which we exercise by means of implements over natural obj
ects in their separate forms. Such a power as this, which the educated man exerc
ises over individual natural things, presupposes that he has receded from this w
orld, that the world has acquired externality in relation to him, au externality
to which he concedes an independence relatively to himself, peculiar qualitativ
e characteristics and laws ; and it presupposes further that these things in the
ir qualitative character are relative in regard to each other, standing in a man
ifold connection with one another.
This power, which gives the world a free standing in its qualitative character,
is exercised by the educated man by means of his knowledge of the qualities of t
hings, that is to say, of things as they are in regard to other things ; another
 element thus makes its influence felt in them, and their weakness at once shows
itself. He learns to know them on that weak side, and operates on them by so ar
ming himself that he is able to attack them in their weakness and to compel them
to submit to him.
For the accomplishment of this it is necessary that man should be free in himsel
f. Not until he is himself free does he allow the external world, other people,
and natural things to exist over against him as free. To the man who is not free
, others are not free either.
On the other hand, any direct influence exercised by man, by means of his ideas,
of his will, presupposes this mutual unfreedom, since power over external thing
s is indeed attributed to man as representing what is Spiritual, but not as bein
g a power which acts in a free manner, and which just on that account does not b
ring itself into relation to what is free, and as something which mediates ; on
the contrary, here the power over nature acts in a direct way. It thus is magic
or sorcery.
As regards the external mode in which this idea actually appears, it is found in
a form which implies that this magic is what is highest in the self-consciousne
ss of those peoples. But in a subordinate way magic steals np to higher standpoi
nts too, and insinuates itself into higher religions, and thus into the popular
conception of witches, although in that form it is recognised as something which
is partly impotent, and partly improper and godless. There has been an inclinat
ion on the part of some (as, for example, in the Kantian philosophy) to consider
prayer too as magic, because man seeks to make it effectual, not through mediat
ion, but by starting direct from Spirit. The distinction here, however, is that
man appeals to an absolute will, for which even the individual or unit is an obj
ect of care, and which can either grant the prayer or not, and which in so actin
g is determined by general purposes of good. Magic, however, in the general sens
e, simply amounts to this, that man has the mastery as he is in his natural stat
e, as possessed of passions and desires.
Such is the general character of this primal and wholly immediate standpoint, na
mely, that the human consciousness, any definite human being, is recognised as t
he ruling power over nature in virtue of his own will. The natural has, however,
by no means that wide range which it has in our idea of it. Fur here the greate
r part of nature still remains indifferent to man, or is just as he is accustome
d to see it. Everything is stable. Earthquakes, thunderstorms, floods, animals,
which threaten him with death, enemies, and the like, are another matter. To def
end himself against these recourse is had to magic.
Such is the oldest mode of religion, the wildest, most barbarous form. It follow
s from what has been said that God is necessarily of a spiritual nature. This is
His fundamental determination. Spiritual existence, in so far as it is an objec
t for self-consciousness, is already a further advance, a differentiation of spi
rituality as that which is universal and as definite individual empirical self-c
onsciousness ; it is already a breaking off of the universal self-consciousness
from the empirical spirituality of self-consciousness. At the beginning this doe
s not yet exist.
The religion of nature as that of magic, begins from unfree freedom, so that the
single or individual self-consciousness knows itself as something which is high
er than natural things, and this knowledge is, to begin with, tmmediated.
By recent travellers, such as Captain Parry, and before him Captain Ross, this r
eligion has been found among the Esquimaux, wholly without the element of mediat
ion and as the crudest consciousness. Among other peoples a mediation is already
present.
Captain Parry says of them : "They are quite unaware that there is any other wor
ld ; they live among rocks, ice and snow, upon rye, birds and fish, and do not k
now that nature exists in any other form. The English had an Esquimaux with them
, who had lived some time in England, and he served as interpreter. Through him
they obtained some knowledge regarding the people, and learned that they have no
t the slightest idea of Spirit, of a higher existence, of an essential substance
as contrasted with their empirical mode of existence, of the immortality of the
soul, of the everlasting duration of spirit, of the evil independent existence
of the individual spirit. They know of no evil spirit, and they have, it is true
, a great veneration for the sun and moon, but they do not adore them ; they wor
ship no image, no living creature. On the other hand, they have amongst them ind
ividuals whom they call Angekoks, magicians, conjurers. Those assert that they h
ave it in their power to raise a storm, to create a calm, to bring whales near,
&c., and say that they learnt these arts from old Angekoks. The people regard th
em with fear ; in every family, however, there is at least one. A young Angekok
wished to make the wind rise, and he proceeded to do it by dint of phrases and g
estures. These phrases had no meaning and were directed toward no Supreme Being
as a medium, but were addressed in an immediate way to the natural object over w
hich the Angekok wished to exercise power; he required no aid from any one whate
ver. He was told of an omnipresent, all good, invisible Being who had made every
thing, and he asked where it lived, and when he was told it was everywhere, he a
t once became afraid, and wished to run away. On being asked where his people wo
uld go when they died, he replied that they would be buried ; a long time ago an
old man had once said that they would go to the moon, but it was long since any
Esquimaux had believed that."
Thus they occupy the lowest stage of spiritual consciousness, but they possess t
he belief that self-consciousness is a mighty power over naturft, without mediat
ion, apart from any antithesis between that self-consciousness and a divine Bein
g.
The English persuaded an Angekok to practise magic ; this was done by means of d
ancing, so that he became frantic with the prodigious amount of exertion ; he fe
ll into a state of exhaustion, and gave forth phrases and sounds, his eyes rolli
ng about all the while.
This religion of magic is very prevalent in Africa, as also among the Mongols an
d Chinese; here, however, it is no longer found in the absolute crudeuess of its
first form, but mediations already come in, which owe their origin to the fact
that the Spiritual has begun to assume an objective form for self-conseiousness.

In its first form this religion is more magic than religion ; it is in Africa am
ong the negroes that it prevails most extensively. It was already mentioned by H
erodotus, and in recent times it has been found existing in -a similar form. Yet
the cases are but few in which such peoples appeal to their power over nature,
for they use very little, and have few requirements, and, in judging fef their c
onditions, we must forget the manifold needs which surround us, and the variousl
y complicated modes we have of accomplishing our ends. Our information regarding
the state of these peoples is for the most part derived from the missionaries o
f past times ; the more recent accounts are, on the other hand, but scanty, and
therefore some of the narratives of older date have to be received with suspicio
n, especially ns missionaries are natural enemies of magic. The general facts, h
owever, are undoubted, being established by a great variety of accounts.
The charge of avarice on the part of the priests must be abandoned here, as in t
he case of other religions. Offerings, gifts to the gods, become for the most pa
rt the share of the priests, but still you can only speak of avarice, and a peop
le are only to be pitied on account of it, when they lay a great stress upon the
possession of property. But to these peoples possessions are of no consequence
; they know of no better use to which to put what they have than to give it away
in this manner.
The character of this magic is more accurately shown by the mode and manner of i
ts exercise. The magician retires to a hill, describes circles or figures in the
sand, and utters magical words, makes signs toward the sky, blows toward the wi
nd, sucks in his breath. A missionary who found himself at the head of a Portugu
ese army relates that the negroes who were their allies had brought a magician o
f this kind with tnem. A hurricane rendered his conjuring arts needful, aud, in
spite of the strong opposition of the missionary, they were resorted to. The mag
ician appeared in a peculiar fantastical dress, looked up at the sky and the clo
uds, and afterwards chewed roots and murmured phrases. As the clouds drew nearer
, he broke out into howls, made signs to the clouds, and spat towards the sky. T
he storm continuing notwithstanding, lie waxed furious, shot arrows at the sky,
threatened it with bad treatment, and thrust at the clouds with his knife.
The Schamans among the Mongols are very similar to these magicians. Wearing a fa
ntastic dress, from which depend figures of metal and wood, they stupefy themsel
ves with drink, and when in this state declare what is to happen and prophesy ab
out the future.
In this sphere of magic the main principle is the direct domination of nature by
means of the will, of self-consciousness in other words, that Spirit is somethi
ng of a higher kind than nature. However bad this magic may look regarded in one
aspect, still in another it is higher than a condition of dependence upon natur
e and fear of it.
It is to be observed here that there are negro peoples who have the belief that
no man dies a natural death ; that nature has not power over him, but that it is
he who has power over nature. These are the Galla and Gaga tribes, which, as th
e most savage and most barbarous of conquerors, have repeatedly descended upon t
he coasts since the year , pouring forth from the interior and inundating the wh
ole country. These look upon man in the strength of his consciousness as too exa
lted to be capable of being killed by anything so obscure as the power of nature
. What therefore takes place is, that sick people, in whose case magic has prove
d ineffectual, are put to death by their friends. In the same way the wild tribe
s of North America too killed their aged who had reached decrepitude, the meanin
g of which is unmistakable, namely, that man is not to perish by means of nature
, but is to have due honour rendered to him at human hands. There is another peo
ple again who have the belief that everything would go to ruin if their high-pri
est were to die a natural death. He is therefore executed as soon as ever he bec
omes ill and weak ; if a high-priest should notwithstanding die of some disease,
they believe that some other person killed him by means of magic, and the magic
ians have to ascertain who the murderer was, when he is at once made away with.
On the death of a king in particular, many persons are killed : according to a m
issionary of older days, it is the devil of the king who is slain.
Such, then, is the very first form of religion, which cannot indeed as yet be pr
operly called religion. To religion essentially pertains the moment of objectivi
ty, and this means that spiritual power shows itself as a mode of the Universal
relatively to self-consciousness, for the individual, for the particular empiric
al consciousness. Tins objectivity is an essential characteristic, on which all
depends. Not until it is present does religion begin, does a God exist, and even
in the lowest condition there is at least a beginning of it. The mountain, the
river, is not in its character as this particular mass of earth, as this particu
lar water, the Divine, but as a mode of the existence of the Divine, of an essen
tial, universal Being. But we do not yet find this in magic as such. It is the i
ndividual consciousness as this particular consciousness, and consequently the v
ery negation of the Universal, which is what has the power here ; not a god in t
he magician, but the magician himself is the conjurer and conqueror of nature. T
his is the religion of passion, which is still infinite for itself, and therefor
e of sensuous particularity which is certain of itself. But in the religion of m
agic there is already also a distinguishing of the individual empirical consciou
sness of the person dealing in magic from that person in his character as repres
enting the Universal. It is owing to this that out of magic the religion of magi
c is developed.
(b.) The Objective Characteristics of the Religion of Magic.
With the distinction of the singular and universal in general, there enters a re
lation of self-consciousness to the object, and here mere formal objectifying mu
st be distinguished from the true. The former is that the spiritual Power God is
known as objective for consciousness ; absolute objectifying means that God is,
that He is known as existing in and for Himself, in accordance with those chara
cteristics which essentially belong to Spirit in its true nature.
What we have to consider in the first place here is formal objectifying only. Th
e relation here is of a threefold kind.
i . Subjective self-consciousness, subjective spirituality, is, and still remain
s, master and lord this living force, this self-conscious power; the ideality of
self-consciousness as the force or power is still operative as against feeble o
bjectivity, aud maintains the supremacy.
. The subjective self-consciousness of man is conceived of as dependent on the o
bject. Man, as immediate consciousness, can only conceive himself to be dependen
t in an accidental manner ; only by a deviation from his ordinary state of exist
ence does he reach the condition of dependence. Amongst simple peoples in a stat
e of nature, amongst savages, this dependence is of little importance. They have
what they want ; what they are in need of exists for them, grows for them ; the
y therefore do not regard themselves as at all in a condition of dependence ; th
eir needs are chance needs only. Not until consciousness is further developed, w
hen man and nature, losing their immediate validity and positive character, come
to be conceived of as something evil, something negative, does the dependence o
f consciousness come in, in that it shows itself to be negative relatively to it
s object or " Other." Not until man is so conceived of as Essence does the Other
nature essentially become a mere negative.
. But this negativity shows itself to be only a point of transition. Spiritualit
y, too, as well as the natural will, the empirical, immediate spirit, man, recog
nises itself in religion to be essential, comes to see that to depend upon natur
e is not its fundamental characteristic, but to know itself as Spirit, to be fre
e. Although at the lowest stage this is merely a formal freedom, yet man has a c
ontempt for dependence, remains self-contained, asserts himself, casts away the
merely natural connection, and subjugates nature to his own power. It is at anot
her stage that what a later religion says holds good : " God thunders with His t
hunder, and yet is not recognised." God can do something better than merely thun
der ; He can reveal Himself. Spirit does not permit itself to be characterised b
y a natural phenomenon. The higher relation is that of free adoration, where man
reveres the ruling power as free, recognises it as Essence, but not as somethin
g which is foreign to his nature.
If, therefore, we consider this objectifying process more closely, we find it pa
rtly consists in this, that self-consciousness maintains itself as the power ove
r natural things, and partly that iti this objectivity not merely natural things
exist for it, but that a Universal begins to come into existence in it, towards
which it accordingly assumes the attitude of free adoration.
If, therefore, we consider the process of the objectifying of the Universal as i
t goes on when still within the sphere of magic, it will be seen that the consci
ousness of truly essential objectivity though as yet undeveloped now begins with
in it; the consciousness of an essential universal power begins. Magic is retain
ed, but it is accompanied by the perception of an independent, essential objecti
vity ; what the consciousness which uses magic knows as the ultimate principle i
s not itself, but the universal power or force in things. The two are intermingl
ed, and not until free adoration, as the consciousness of free power, appears, d
o we emerge from the sphere of magic, although we still find ourselves within th
e region of the religion of nature. Magic has existed among all peoples and at e
very period ; with the objectifying process, however, a mediation comes in in it
s higher stages, so that Spirit is the higher notion, the power over it, or the
mediating agent with the magic.
Self-consciousness is that relation with the object in which the former is no lo
nger immediate self-consciousness, that which is satisfied within itself, but fi
nds its satisfaction in what is other than itself, by the mediation of an "Other
," and through an "Other" as its channel. The infiniteness of passion shows itse
lf as a finite infinity, since it is restrained by means of reflection within th
e bounds of a higher power. Man unlocks his prisonhouse, and only by the annulli
ng of his particularity does lie create full satisfaction for himself in his Ess
ence, unite himself with himself as Essence, and attain to himself by means of t
he negative mode of himself.
In mediation, as ic at first exhibits itself to us in an external form, the medi
ation takes place, as it were, by means of an Other which remains external. In m
agic, as such, man exerts direct power over nature. Here he exercises an indirec
t power, by means of an object, of a charm.
The moments of mediation, looked at more closely, are these: I. The immediate re
lation here is that the selfconsciousness, as spiritual self-consciousness, know
s itself as the power ruling over natural things. These themselves, again, are a
power among themselves. This is already, therefore, a further reflection, and n
o longer an immediate relation, where the " I " as a unit confronts natural thin
gs. The next form of universality reached by reflection is that natural things a
ppear to be within one another, stand in connection with one another, that the o
ne is to be known by means of the other, has its meaning as cause and effect, so
that, in fact, they are essentially in a condition of relation. This connection
is already a form of the objectifying of the Universal, for the thing is thus n
o longer a unit, it goes out beyond itself, it gives itself a valid existence in
what is other than itself ; the thing becomes broader in this way. In the first
relation " I " am the ideality of the thing, the power over it ; now, however,
when thus posited objectively, the things are themselves the power in their mutu
al relation to one another ; the one is that which posits the other ideally. Thi
s is the sphere of indirect magic through means, while the magic first referred
to was direct magic.
This is a 'orm of objectifying which is merely a connection of external things,
and means that the subject does not take to itself the direct power over nature,
but only over the means. This mediated magic is present at all times and among
all peoples. Sympathetic remedies, too, belong to this kind of magic. They are a
contrivance the object of which is to produce a result in something quite diffe
rent ; the subject has the means in its hand : to produce this result is merely
its intention, its aim. The " I " is the magician, but it conquers the thing by
means of the thing itself. In magic, things show themselves as ideal. The ideali
ty is thus a characteristic which belongs to them as things ; it is an objective
quality, which comes into consciousness by means of the very exercise of magic,
and is itself only posited, made use of. Passion seizes on things in an immedia
te way. Now, however, consciousness reflects itself into itself, and inserts the
thing itself as the destroying agent between itself and the thing, while it the
reby shows itself as stratagem or cunning in not mixing itself up with the thing
s and their strife. The change which is to be brought about may in one sense dep
end upon the nature of the means employed, but the principal thing is the will o
f the subject. This mediated magic is infinitely widespread, and it is difficult
to define its limits and determine what is and what is not included in it. The
principle of magic is that the connection between the means and the result is no
t known. Magic exists everywhere where this connection is merely present without
being understood. The same thing holds good, too, of medicines in hundreds of c
ases, and all we can really do is to appeal to experience. The other alternative
would be the rational course, namely, to get to know the nature of the remedy,
and thus to deduce the change which it brings about. But the art of medicine ref
uses to adopt the plan of calculating the result from the nature of the remedy.
'We are simply told that this connection actually exists, and this is mere exper
ience, which, however, contradicts itself endlessly. Thus Brown treated with opi
um, naphtha, spirit, &c., what was formerly cured by means of remedies of an ent
irely opposite nature. It is therefore difficult to state the limits of known an
d unknown connection. In so far as we are here in presence of effects produced b
y living agents on what is living, and have no longer to do with the effects pro
duced by what is spiritual on what is bodily, there are connections present whic
h cannot be gainsaid, and which yet, so long as the deeper conception of this re
lation is unknown, may still appear as inscrutable, as magic, or as miracle. Thu
s in magnetism everything which is usually called connection ceases ; regarded i
n the ordinary way, it is an incomprehensible connection.
If the sphere of mediation in magic be once entered, the huge gate of superstiti
on is opened, and then every detail of existence becomes significant, for every
circumstance has results, has ends ; everything is both mediated and mediating,
every thing governs and is governed : what a man does depends as to its results
upon circumstances ; what he is, his aims, depend upon certain conditions. He ex
ists in an external world, amidst a variety of connections of cause and effect,
and the individual is only a ruling force to the extent to which he has power ov
er the particular forces thus connected. In so far as this connection remains un
determined, and the definite nature
things is still unknown, we float about in a condition of absolute contingency.
Since reflection enters into this region of relations, it has the belief that th
ings stand to one another in a relation of reciprocity. This belief is quite cor
rect, but the defect in it is that it is still abstract, and consequently the de
finite special character of action, the precise mode of action, the exact nature
of the connection of things with other things is not as yet present in it. Such
a connection exists, but its real character is not yet known, and accordingly w
hat is present is the contingent character, the arbitrariness of the means. Most
people are on one side of their nature in this position, and nations occupy thi
s standpoint in a way which shows that this aspect is for them the fundamental o
ne, the power which rules their wishes, their actual condition, their mode of ex
istence.
When people act according to an abstract principle, free scope is given to the e
lement of determination. This applies to the endless variety of charms. Many nat
ions use magic in connection with everything they undertake. Among some a charm
is made use of when the foundations of a house are laid, in order that it may be
a lucky dwelling, and may be beyond the reach of any danger. The particular qua
rter of the heavens, the direction, is a matter of importance here. At sowing-ti
me, too, a charm must be used to secure a happy result. Relations with other men
, love, hatred, peace, war, are brought about by the use of such means, and the
connection of these with the effects being unknown, either one or other of these
means must be taken. Anything rational is not to be met with in this sphere, an
d therefore nothing further can be said about the matter. It is customary to att
ribute to all peoples great insight into the way in which herbs, plants, &c., ac
t in cases of illness and the like. A true connective relation may exist here, b
ut the connection may just as easily be merely arbitrary. The understanding gets
to be conscious that there is a connection, but its precise character is unknow
n to understanding. It seizes upon the means, and imagination, guided by a true
or a false instinct, supplies the deficiency in the abstract principle, introduc
es a defmiteness into it which is not actually inherent in the nature of the thi
ngs themselves.
. The content of immediate magic in its earliest form has to do with objects ove
r which man is able to exercise direct power. This second form, again, is based
upon a relation toward objects which are looked upon rather as independent, and
thus as power, so that they appear to man as something different from himself, a
nd which is no longer under his own control. For example, the sun, the moon, the
heavens, the sea, are independent natural things of this kind. They are forces
or powers, individual or elemental great objects, which seem to man to confront
him in a wholly independent way. If in this sphere natural consciousness still a
dheres to the standpoint of individual passion, it has, properly speaking, no re
lation to these objects as parts of universal nature ; it has not as yet a perce
ption of their universality, and has to do with units alone. Their course, what
they produce, is uniform, their mode of action is constant. The consciousness, h
owever, which still adheres to the standpoint/ of natural unity, and for which w
hat is constant possesses no interest, puts itself in relation with them in acco
rdance with its contingent wishes, needs, interests only, or in so far as their
action appears as contingent. From this point of view the sun and moon interest
man only in so far as they undergo eclipse, and the earth only when there are ea
rthquakes. The Universal does not exist for him, does not excite his desires, is
without interest for him. A river only interests him when he wishes to cross it
. Theoretical interest has no existence here, but only the practical relation du
e to accidental wants. Thinking man, witli his higher culture, does not reverenc
e these objects in their aspect as spiritual universalities, nor does he look up
on them as representing what is essential. Man does not reverence them in that f
irst sphere either, because he has not in any way come as yet to the consciousne
ss of the Universal which is in these objects. At this last standpoint he has no
t yet arrived at the universality of all that exists; at the former point of vie
w natural existence has no longer any validity for him. But it is in the midst o
f these two points of view that the powers of nature make their appearance as a
Universal, and consequently as having the ruling power in relation to the partic
ular, empirical consciousness. Such a man may be afraid of them in earthquakes,
floods, or eclipses, and may address prayers or entreaties to them ; here they a
ppear for the first time as power ; for the rest/ they follow their ordinary cou
rse, and then he does not need to entreat them. But entreaty or supplication of
this kind is a species of conjuring too ; we use the word to conjure in the sens
e of entreaty. When a man entreats, he acknowledges that he is in the power of a
nother. It is therefore often difficult to entreat or supplicate, because by tha
t very act I acknowledge the control of the arbitrary will of another in referen
ce to myself. But what is demanded here is that the effect, the entreaty, shall
at the same time be the power exercised over the other. These two intermingle, t
he acknowledgment of the supremacy of the object, and, on the other hand, the co
nsciousness of my own power, in accordance with which I desire to exercise supre
macy over this object. Thus we see peoples sacrifice to a river if they wish to
cross it, or bring offerings to the sun if it is eclipsed. They make use of the
power in this way to conjure ; the means are meant to exert a charm over the pow
er of nature they are meant to produce what the subject desires. The reverence t
hus shown towards such objects of nature is wholly ambiguous ; it is not pure re
verence, but reverence mixed with magic.
In conjunction with this reverence for natural objects, it may happen that these
are conceived of in a more essential shape, as Genii; for example, the sun may
be thought of as a genius, or we may have the genius of rivers, &c. This is a ki
nd of reverence in which man does not stop short at the particularity of the obj
ect ; on the contrary, it is universality which is before the mind, and it is th
is which is reverenced. But while this universality too is thus conceived of as
in a universal shape and appears as power, man may, notwithstanding, preserve th
e consciousness of being the power even over these genii ; their content is poor
er, is only that of natural existences ; it still continues a merely natural one
, and self-consciousness is thus able to know itself as a power over it. . The n
ext stage in the objectifying process is reached when man recognises and finds a
n independent power outside of himself in what has life. Life, even the life for
ce in a tree, and still more in an animal, is a higher principle than the nature
of the sun or of a river. This is why it has come about that among a very large
number of peoples animals have been reverenced as divinities. This appears to u
s as the least worthy form of worship, but, as a matter of fact, the principle o
f life is higher than that of the sun. Animal life is a more exalted, a truer fo
rm of existence than any such existing natural object, and it is in so far less
undignified to reverence animals as divinities than rivers, stars, &c. The life
of an animal gives token of an active independence of subjectivity, and it is th
at which is the main point here. It is his self-consciousness which a man makes
objective to himself, and life is the form, the mode of existence, which is undo
ubtedly the most nearly related to the spiritual one. Animals are still worshipp
ed by many peoples, especially in India and Africa. An animal has the calm indep
endence, the vitality which does not throw itself away, which has a preference f
or this or for that ; it has accidental arbitrary movement ; it is not to be und
erstood ; has something secret in its modes of action, in its expressions ; it i
s alive, but not comprehensible as man is to man. This mysteriousness constitute
s the miraculous element for man, so that he is able to look upon animal life as
higher than his own. Serpents were still reverenced among the Greeks ; from anc
ient times they had the prepossession in their favour of being esteemed as good
omens. On the west coast of Africa a serpent is to be found in every house, and
it is the greatest crime to murder it. On the one hand, animals are thus held in
veneration, and on the other hand they are, notwithstanding this, subject to th
e most capricious treatment in respect of the veneration shown to them. Negroes
use whatever animal comes first to hand as tlieir charm, cast it aside when it d
oes not produce the desired effect, and take another.
Such is the essential character of animal-worship ; it exists in so far as man a
nd the spiritual in him have not yet conceived of themselves in their true essen
tiality. The life of man is thus mere free independence.
In this sphere of the appetite of individual self-consciousness, which neither i
n itself nor outside of itself recognises universal objective spirituality, that
significance is not as yet given to the living creature, thus reverenced or wor
shiped, which it acquires later in the idea of the transmigration of souls. This
general conception is based upon the idea that the spirit of man is of a durabl
e character, but that for his existence in that duration he requires corporeal f
orm, and inasmuch as this is not now a human one, he requires another, and the o
ne most nearly related is accordingly that of the animal. In zoolatry, which is
bound up with the transmigration of souls, it is an important and essential mome
nt that the idea of an indwelling spiritual element combines itself with this tr
ansmuted life, so that it is properly this which is reverenced. Here in this sph
ere, where immediate self-consciousness is the fundamental element, it is, howev
er, life in the general sense only that is reverenced. This worship, therefore,
is of a contingent character, and connects itself now with this animal, and now
with that other. Almost every unaccomplished desire is the occasion of a feesh c
hange. Moreover, any kind of thing is to the purpose here, a manufactured idol,
a hill, a tree, &c. Just as children feel the impulse to play, and mankind the i
mpulse to adorn themselves, there is an impulse here too to have something befor
e one as an independent and powerful object, and to have the consciousness of an
arbitrary combination which may be just as easily broken up again, as the more
precise character of the object appears at first to be of no consequence. It is
in this way that fetish worship originates. " Fetish " is a corruption of a Port
uguese word, and has the same meaning as " idol." Fetish may mean anything, any
carved work, a piece of wood, an animal, a river, a tree, &c. Similarly there ar
e fetishes for whole peoples, and fetishes for any special individual.
The negroes have a great variety of idols, natural objects which they make into
their fetishes. The first stone which comes to hand, locusts, &c., these are the
ir Lares, from which they expect to derive good fortune. This is thus an unknown
indefinite power, which they have themselves created in an immediate way. Accor
dingly, if anything unpleasant befalls them, and they do not find the fetish ser
viceable, they make away with it and choose another. A tree, a river, a lion, a
tiger are common national fetishes. If any misfortune occurs, such as floods or
war, they change their god. The fetish is subject to being changed, and sinks to
a means of procuring something for the individual. The Nile of the Egyptians, o
n the contrary, is quite different ; it is something Divine which they have in c
ommon ; it is their substantial, unchangeable ruling power, upon which their ent
ire existence depends.
The ultimate form in which independent spirituality is embodied is essentially m
an himself a living, independent form of existence which is spiritual. Reverence
has here its essential object ; and in regard to objectivity the principle make
s its appearance that it is not every individual chance consciousness which has
power to rule over nature, but that there are some few particular ruling persons
who are looked up to and reverenced as embodying spirituality. In the existing
self-consciousness which still has power, it is the will, it is knowledge in com
parison with and in actual relation to others which is what rules and which show
s itself as essentially necessary relatively to the Other, and is a central poin
t among many. Here, therefore, a spiritual power makes its appearance, which is
to be looked upon as objective, and thus the principle appears according to whic
h it is to be a case of one or some as exclusive in reference to the rest. Thus
one man is a magician, or some men are magicians ; they are looked upon as the h
ighest power which is actually present. These are usually princes, and thus, for
instance, the Emperor of China is the individual having dominion over men, and
at the same time over nature and natural things. Since it is thus a self-conscio
usness which is reverenced, a distinction at once makes itself apparent here bet
ween what an individual is in his essential nature and what he is from the point
of view of his external existence. In this latter aspect the individual is a ma
n like other men, but the essential moment or element is spirituality in general
; this being for self or independent in contrast to the external contingent mod
e of existence. A distinction begins to appear here which is of a higher charact
er, as as we shall see later on, and which comes into prominence in the Lamas. W
hat first takes place is that a distinction is made between individuals as such
and as universal powers. This universal spiritual power, conceived as existing i
n its own right, supplies the idea of Genius, of a god who has himself again a s
ensuous shape in the idea formed of him, and the actually living individual is t
hen the priest of such an idol. At this standpoint, however, the priest and the
god often become synonymous. His inner life may become hypostatised ; here, howe
ver, the essential power of the spiritual and the immediate existence are not as
yet separated from one another, and thus this spiritual power is really merely
a superficial idea. The priest, the magician, is the principal person, so that t
hey are actually represented sometimes as separate, but if the god comes to expr
ess himself outwardly, becomes strong, decides, &c., he only does this as a defi
nite real human being ; this reality supplies the god with his strength. These p
riests sometimes have actual sovereigns over them too ; if the priest and prince
are distinguished from one another, the man is on the one hand reverenced as Go
d, and on the other compelled to do what others require of him. The negroes, wio
have magicians who are not at the same time sovereigns, bind and beat them unti
l they are obedient, if they refuse to use their magical charms or are not dispo
sed to do so.
We shall see how the idea runs through various religions that the Spiritual has
its presence in man, and that human consciousness is essentially the presence of
Spirit. This idea necessarily belongs to the oldest class of principles. It is
present in the Christian religion too, but in a higher form, and, as it were, tr
ansfigured. The Christian religion interprets and transfigures it.
In the case of a human being, the mode in which objectivity is attained is of a
twofold kind. The first is that in which he takes up a position of exclusiveness
as against what is other than himself ; the second is the natural mode, namely,
the stripping off of what is temporal from him ; this natural mode is death. De
ath takes away what is temporal, what is transitory in man, but it has no power
or control over that which he essentially is. That man actually has such a regio
n within himself, since he exists in his own right, cannot at this standpoint as
yet come into consciousness ; here self-consciousness is not as yet in possessi
on of the eternal meaning of its spirit. The stripping off referred to has to do
only with the individual's sensuous existence ; the whole remaining contingent
mode of his particularity, of his sensuous presence is, on the other hand, retai
ned by him. It is removed into the region of ideas, and is retained there. This,
however, has not the form of truth, but what is thus retained for the individua
l has still the form of his wholly sensuous existence. Reverence for the dead is
therefore still quite feeble, and its content is of an accidental character. Th
e dead are a power, but a feeble power. . The lasting part of the dead, a part w
hich is at thesame time conspicuously material, what we may call the immortal ma
terial part, is represented by the bones. Among many peoples, therefore, the bon
es of the dead are held in reverence, and are used as instruments of magic. "We
may in this connection be reminded of relics, and it is the fact that on the one
hand missionaries are zealous in opposing this veneration for bones, while on t
he other hand they ascribe a greater power to their own religion. Thus a monk re
lates that the negroes have bandages which are prepared with human blood by a ma
gical process, and to which is attributed the power of enabling a man to hold hi
s ground against wild beasts. He had often observed that men provided with such
bandages had been torn by animals, from which those upon whom he had hung relics
had always remained protected.
As representing this power, the dead therefore demand veneration, and this consi
sts in nothing beyond the bestowal of a certain care upon them, and in providing
them with food and drink. Most ancient peoples buried food with the dead. Accor
dingly the idea of what is true, lasting, enduring, is of a very inferior kind.
It is also supposed that the dead return to the present world, or it may be they
are thought of partly as a power which will avenge neglect of care, partly as c
alled up by magic, through the power of the magician, of the actual selfconsciou
sness, and consequently as being subject to this latter. A few examples will ill
ustrate this.
The Capuchin monk Cavazzi (Histor. Beschreibung d. drei Kbniyr. Congo u. s. w.,
Miinchcn, ), who remained for a considerable time in the neighbourhood of the Co
ngo, relates a great deal about these magicians, who are named Singhilli. They a
re held in great repute by the people, and call them together whenever it please
s them to do so. They always do this from time to time, and state that they are
impelled to it by this or that dead person. The tribe must present itself, each
man provided with a knife, the magician himself makes his appearance carried in
a net, decked with precious stones, feathers, &c. The assembled people receive h
im with singing, dancing, and shouts of joy, which are accompanied by a barbaric
, deafening, hideous kind of music, which is supposed to occasion the entrance o
f the spirit which has passed away, into the Singhilli ; he himself entreats the
spirit to enter into him. This accomplished, he rises and gesticulates quite af
ter the manner of one possessed, tears his garments, rolls his eyes, bites and s
cratches himself ; while doing so, he expresses the dead man's desires, and repl
ies to the questions of those who inquire of him about their own affairs. The sp
eaking dead threatens the survivors with distress and misery, wishes them all ki
nds of mishaps, inveighs against the ingratitude of his blood-relations in havin
g given him no human blood. Cavazzi says, " The working of demoniacal fury shows
itself in him, and he yells in a frightful manner, takes the blood by force whi
ch is not rendered to him, seizes a knife, thrusts it into some one's breast, cl
eaves heads, rips up bellies, and drinks the blood which streams forth. He rends
the bodies and divides the flesh among those present, who devour it without rem
orse, although it may be that of their nearest relatives ; they know beforehand
that this is how the thing will end, but go notwithstanding to the gathering wit
h the greatest rejoicing.
" The Gagas imagine that the dead feel hunger and thirst. If any one becomes ill
, or especially if he has visions or sees apparitions and dreams, he sends for a
Singhilli and questions him. The latter inquires into all the circumstances, an
d the result is that the apparition proves to be that of one of his deceased rel
ations who is present there, and he is told that he must go to another Singhilli
in order to have it driven away, for each Singhilli has his own special busines
s. This last now conducts him to the grave of the person who appeared to him, or
who is the cause of the illness. There the dead man is con-^ j tired, abused, t
hreatened, until he enters into the Singhilli and discloses what he desires in o
rder to be reconciled. This is the course of procedure when he has been dead for
a long time ; if he has only recently been buried, the body is dug up, the head
cut off and laid open ; the moisture which flows from it must be in part consum
ed in food by the sick person, and of part of it plasters are made which are lai
d upon him.
" The difficulties are greater when the dead has had no burial, but has been dev
oured by friend, enemy, or wild beast. The Singhilli then sets about making inca
ntations, and afterwards gives out that the spirit has entered into the body of
a monkey, a bird, &c., and manages to effect the capture of the animal or bird.
The latter is then killed, and the sick person consumes it, and in consequence o
f this the spirit loses all right to be anything."
It is clear from the above that in so far as it is a question of duration, no ab
solute, free, independent power is conceded to the spirit.
It is as dead that the man is represented in this state of duration, as having h
ad his empirical external existence stripped off him. But his wholly contingent
nature still remains to him in this sphere ; the objectifying has still referenc
e entirely to the external mode of existence, is still wholly formal. It is not
as yet the Essential which is regarded as existent, and what is left behind is s
till the man's contingent nature. The duration itself which is given to the dead
is a superficial quality ; it is not his transfiguration. He continues to be co
ntingent existence, in the power, in the hands of the living selfconsciousness,
of the magician, so that the latter may even cause him to die over again, and th
erefore to die a second time.
The idea of immortality hangs together with the idea of God. It always correspon
ds, in short, with the stage at which the metaphysical conception of God has arr
ived. The more the power of spirituality is conceived of in accordance with its
content in an eternal form, the worthier is the idea of God, as well as the idea
of the spirit of the human individual and of the immortality of the spirit.
However weak, however powerless men appear here, they appear just the same among
the Greeks and in Homer. In the scene of Odysseus at the Styx we see how he cal
ls forth the dead and slays a black goat ; by the help of blood only are the sha
des able to acquire memory and speech ; they are . eager for blood, so that vita
lity may enter into them : Odysseus permits some to drink, and holds the rest ba
ck with his sword.
' When the idea of the spirit of man is of this material character, the idea of
what the ruling power is in its essential nature is equally material.
The example already quoted at once shows us the little value man, as an individu
al, has for those at this standpoint. This contempt for man, this making light o
f man by others, is confessedly present also among the negroes too, in the form
of the condition of slavery, which is quite universal among them. Prisoners eith
er become slaves or are slaughtered. With the idea of immortality the value of l
ife increases ; one might suppose the reverse would take place, and that life wo
uld then have less value. On the one hand, such is actually the case too, but, o
n the other, the right of the individual to life at once becomes so much the gre
ater, and the right becomes for the first time great when man is recognised as f
ree implicitly or in himself, in his own right. Both determinations, that of sub
jective finite independent being and that of absolute power, which is afterwards
to appear definitely as absolute Spirit, are connected in the very closest mann
er.
On this account, too, one might suppose that man, since he is of so much value a
s being this power, would be held in great reverence here, and would have the fe
eling of his dignity. But, on the contrary, man has here complete worthlessness
; for man does not possess dignity through what he is as immediate will, but onl
y in virtue of having knowledge of something which exists in-and-for-itself, and
of something substantial, and only because he subjects his natural will to this
, and brings it into accordance with it. Only by the annulling of natural unruli
ness, and through the knowledge that a Universal that exists in-and-for-itself i
s the True, does he acquire a dignity, and then only does life itself too become
worth something.

(c.) Worship or C.ultus in the Religion of Magic.

In the sphere of magic, where the spiritual element is known as existing iii the
particular self-consciousness only, there can be no question of worship as free
reverence for a spiritual being, for what has an absolute objective existence o
f its own. Here this relation is rather the exercise of lordship over nature, th
e rule of some few self-conscious beings over the rest the sway of the magician
over those who do not know. The condition of this lordship is sensuous stupor, i
n which the particular will is forgotten, extinguished, and the abstract sensuou
s consciousness is intensified to the utmost degree. The means used for producin
g this stupor are dancing, music, shouting, gorging, even sexual intercourse ; a
nd it is these which at a higher level become cultus.
The way out of this first form of religion is that Spirit gets to be purified fr
om externality, from sensuous immediacy, and attains to the idea of Spirit as Sp
irit in ordinary conception and in thought.
The important element in the advance is just the objectifying of Spirit that is
to say, the fact that Spirit becomes purely objective, and comes to have the sig
nification of Universal Spirit.

THE DIVISION OF CONSCIOUSNESS WITHIN ITSELF.

The first step in advance is when consciousness of a substantial Power comes in,
and of the powerlessness of the immediate will. Inasmuch as God is here known a
s the Absolute Power, this is not as yet the religion of freedom ; for though ma
n does actually rise, by the coming in of that consciousness, above himself, and
though the essential differentiation of Spirit is carried into effect, still si
nce this lofty Being is known as power, and is not as yet further characterised,
the Particular is merely something accidental, is a mere negative or nullity. E
verything subsists by means of this power, or, in other words, it is itself the
subsistence of everything, so that the freedom of a self-dependent existence is
riot as yet recognised. This is Pantheism.
This power, which is something reached by thought, is not as yet known as such,
as implicitly spiritual. Since it must now have a spiritual mode of existence, b
ut has not' as yet in itself freedom in its own right, it has the moment of spir
ituality again merely in a single human being, who is known as this power.
In the exaltation of spirit with which we have to do here, the point of departur
e is the finite, the contingent. This is defined as the negative, and the univer
sal selfexistent Essence as that in which and by means of which this finite is s
omething negative, something posited. Substance, on the contrary, is the not-pos
ited, the selfexistent, the power in relation to the finite.
Now, the consciousness which rises up, rises up in its character as thought, but
without having a consciousness regarding this universal thought, without expres
sing it in the form of thought. The rising up is, however, in the first place, a
n upward movement only. The other movement is the converse one, namely, that thi
s necessary element has returned to the finite. In the first movement the finite
forgets itself. The second is the relation of Substance to the finite. God bein
g only determined here as the Substance of the finite and the power over it, He
Himself is still undetermined. He is not yet known as determined within Himself
for Himself. He is not yet known as Spirit.
This is the general foundation of several definite forms of religion, which are
progressive efforts to grasp Substance as self-determining.
. To begin with, in the religion of China, for example, Substance is known as th
e simple foundation, and is thus immediately present in the finite, the continge
nt.
What occasions the progressive movement of consciousness is that Spirit, even al
though Substance is not yet conceived of as Spirit, is nevertheless the Truth wh
ich potentially lies at the foundation of all the phenomena of consciousness, so
that even at this stage nothing can be wanting of what pertains to the concepti
on of Spirit. Therefore here too Substance will take on the specific character o
f a subject, but the question is as to how it does this. Here, accordingly, the
characteristics of Spirit which are potentially existent present themselves in a
n external shape. Complete determinateness, the ultimate reach of definite form,
this final culmination of the unit of independent being, is now posited in an e
xternal fashion, so that a present human being is known as the universal Power.
This consciousness already shows itself in the Chinese religion, where the Emper
or at all events represents what gives effect to the power.
. In the religion of India Substance is known as abstract unity, no longer as a
mere foundation, and this abstract unity is more nearly akin to Spirit, since Sp
irit as " I" is itself this abstract unity. Here, then, man rises up, and in lif
ting himself up to his inner abstract unity, to the unity of Substance, identifi
es himself with it, and thus gives it existence. Some by nature share in the exi
stence of this unity ; others have it in their power to rise to the attainment o
f it.
The unity which is here the ruling power makes, it is true, an attempt to unfold
itself. The true unfolding and the negativity of the combination of differences
would be Spirit, which determines itself within itself, and in its subjectivity
manifests itself to itself. This subjectivity of Spirit would give it a content
, which would be worthy of it, and which would itself also have a spiritual natu
re. Here, however, the characteristic of naturalness still remains, inasmuch as
an advance is made to differentiation and unfolding only, and the moments or ele
ments remain in an isolated condition alongside of each other. Here the unfoldin
g necessary in the conception of Spirit is consequently itself devoid of Spirit.
Accordingly, in the Religion of Nature, one is sometimes at a loss to find Spir
it unfolded. This is the case, for instance, with the idea of the Incarnation, t
he Trinity, in the religion of India. Moments or elements will indeed be found w
hich pertain to Spirit, but these are so disposed that they at the same time do
not pertain to it. The determinations or characteristics are isolated, and prese
nt themselves as mutually exclusive. Thus the triad in Indian religion does not
become Trinity, for absolute Spirit alone is the power which rules over its mome
nts.
The general conception of the religion of nature presents great difficulties in
this respect ; it is everywhere inconsistent, and is inherently contradictory. T
hus, on the one hand, the spiritual, which is essentially free, is posited, made
dependent on something else ; and then, on the other, that element is represent
ed in the determinateness belonging to nature, in a condition of individuality,
with a content which has fixed particularity, and which is therefore wholly inad
equate to Spirit, since the latter is true Spirit only as free Spirit. . In the
last form which belongs to this stage of the inner division of consciousness, th
e concrete embodiment and presence of Substance exists and lives in one individu
al, and the formless unfolding of unity which was peculiar to the preceding form
is at least in so far done away with in that it is nullified and reduced to a v
olatile state. This is Lamaism or Buddhism.
Before proceeding to consider more closely the historical existence of this reli
gion, we have to look at the general definite character of this entire stage and
the metaphysical notion or conception of it. To put it more accurately, what is
to be defined is the notion or conception of the exaltation of Spirit and the r
elation of Substance to the Finite.
The Metaphysical Notion or Conception.
In the first place, we must consider the general scope of the metaphysical notio
n, and explain what is to be understood by it.
Here we have a wholly concrete content, and the metaphysico-logical notion there
fore appears to lie behind us, just because we find ourselves in the region of t
he absolutely concrete. The content is Spirit, and a process of the unfolding or
development which Spirit is, is the content of the whole Philosophy of Religion
. The different stages at which we find Spirit give the different religions. Now
this differentiation of determinateness, since it constitutes the different sta
ges, shows itself as external form which has Spirit as its foundation, the diffe
rences of Spirit being posited within it in a definite form. And this form, it i
s certain, is universal logical form. Form is therefore the Abstract. At the sam
e time, however, such determinateness is not merely this external form, but, as
being the logical element, is what is innermost in the determining Spirit. It un
ites both in itself; it is at once, the inmost element and external form. This i
s the very nature of the notion, namely, to be the essential element, and the Es
sence of appearance, of the distinction of form. This logical determinateness is
on the one hand concrete as Spirit, and this whole is the simple Substantiality
of Spirit; but on the other it is also the external form belonging to Spirit, b
y means of which it is differentiated from what is other than itself. That inmos
t specific character, which is the content of each stage in accordance with its
substantial nature, is thus at the same time external form. It may well be that
when another object, a natural object, is under consideration, the logical eleme
nt is taken as constituting its inner nature. With so concrete a form of existen
ce as the finite Spirit, this is accordingly the case as well. In the philosophy
of nature and in the philosophy of Spirit this logical form cannot be brought i
nto special prominence. In such a content as nature and Spirit it exists in a fi
nite mode, and in such a sphere the exposition of the logical element may be rep
resented as a system of conclusions or syllogisms, of mediations. Without this l
ong explanation, which, however, is alone adequate to our purpose, the statement
and consideration of the simple determinateness of the notion would remain unsa
tisfactory. But since in these spheres the logical qualities, as being the subst
antial basis, are veiled or concealed, and are not seen in their simple existenc
e, in which they are adequate to thought, it is not so needful to bring them int
o prominence on their own account, while in religion Spirit allows the logical e
lement to come forward in a more definite form. Here, it is precisely this eleme
nt which has withdrawn itself into its simple shape, and can therefore here be m
ore easily considered, and this is the excuse we have to offer should it surpris
e any one that it is made the subject of special consideration.
In one respect, therefore, we are in a position to assume the existence of the e
lement referred to, but in another we can discuss it on account of its simplicit
y, since it possesses interest in virtue of the fact of its having been formerly
treated of in natural theology, and as having, infact, its place in theology as
an element in the philosophical knowledge of God. It has, since the time of the
Kantian philosophy, been cast aside as mean, bad, unworthy of notice, and for t
his reason it requires a justification.
Determination of the Notion, of Notion in general, is in its real character by n
o means something in a state of repose, but is something which moves itself, is
essentially a state of activity, and is for this very reason mediation, as think
ing is an activity, a mediation within itself, and thus also contains the defini
te thought of mediation within itself. The proofs of the existence of God are li
kewise mediation, the notion is to be represented by a mediation. Thus the same
thing is found in both. In the proofs of the existence of God, however, the medi
ation takes a form which suggests that it has been contrived for the behoof of c
ognition or reasoned knowledge, in order that for this latter a fixed view or in
sight might grow up. It is to be proved to me ; it is this, accordingly, which c
onstitutes the main interest of my cognition. After what has been said about the
nature of the notion, it is clear that we must not so conceive of mediation, no
r think of it as subjective, but get to see that what is true is an objective re
lation of God within Himself, of His logical element within Himself, and only wh
en and in so far as mediation is so conceived of is it a necessary moment. The p
roofs of the existence of God must show themselves as a necessary moment of the
notion itself, as an advancing movement, as an activity of the notion itself.
The first form of this activity derives its character from the fact that here we
are still entirely at the first stage, which we have described as the immediate
one, the stage of immediate unity. It results from this determination of immedi
ateness that we have to do here with wholly abstract determinations, for immedia
te and abstract are the same. The immediate is Being, and so in thought, too, th
e immediate is the abstract which has not as yet buried itself in itself, and ha
s not as yet filled itself up by means of further reflection, has not yet made i
tself concrete. If we thus divest both these sides Spirit as object generally, a
nd nature, the mode of its reality of what is concrete in the content, and hold
fast simply the simple thoughtdeterminateness, we have in this way an abstract d
etermination of God and of the finite. These two sides are now opposed as infini
te and finite the one as pure Being, the other as determinate Being as substanti
al and accidental, as universal and as particular. These determinations, it is t
rue, are intrinsically different in some degree ; thus the Universal is undoubte
dly in itself much more concrete than Substance is; here, however, we can look a
t Substance as undeveloped, and it is then of no consequence which form we take
in order to consider it more closely. Its relation to what confronts it is the e
ssential thing.
This relation in which they are placed with regard to one another is present in
their own nature quite as much as in religion, and is to be taken up in the firs
t place in that aspect of it. In bringing himself into relation to the Infinite,
man starts from the finite as his point of departure. Having the world before h
im, he has a feeling of the unattainable in it, for feeling, too, feels what is
thought of, or what is thinkable. It does not suffice for what is ultimate, and
he finds the world as an aggregate of finite things. In like manner, man knows h
imself to be something contingent, transient, and in this feeling he goes beyond
the Particular and rises up to the Universal, to the One, which exists on its o
wn account, to an Essence to which this contingency and conditioned character do
es not pertain, which rather is simply the Substance in contrast to this acciden
tal element, and the ' Power owing to which this contingency is and is not. Now,
religion just means that man seeks the basis of his want of self-dependence : n
ot until he is in the presence of the Infinite does he find tranquillity. If wes
peak thus abstractly of religion, we already have the essential relation here, t
he transition from the finite to the Infinite. This transition is of such a kind
that it is essentially involved in the nature of these determinations, in other
words, in the Notion, and it may be observed here that it is possible to stop s
hort at this determination. Taken in a strict sense, this transition may be conc
eived of in two different ways. We may regard it first as a transition from the
finite to the Infinite as a " Beyond," which is a more modern way of looking at
it. Then, secondly, we may so conceive of it that the unity of the two is held f
ast, while the finite maintains itself in the Infinite. In the Keligiou of Natur
e we find that any particular, immediate existence whatever, whether natural or
spiritual, becomes a finite infinitely extended beyond its own range, and in the
limited sense-perception of such an object the infinite Essence, free substanti
ality, is at the same time known. What, in fact, is here involved is that in the
finite thing, the sun or the animal, and the like, infinitude is at the same ti
me perceived, and that in the external manifoldness of the finite object we at t
he same time behold the inner infinite unity, divine substantiality. To consciou
sness the Infinite itself here becomes so really present in finite existence, th
e God becomes so present to it in this particularised existence, that this exist
ence is not distinct from God, but rather is the mode in which God exists, imply
ing that natural existence is preserved in immediate unity with Substance.
This advance from the finite to the Infinite is not only a fact, a matter of his
tory in religion, but it is necessitated by the notion involved in the very natu
re of such a determination itself. This transition is thought itself; this means
nothing else than that we know the Infinite in the finite, the universal in the
particular. The consciousness of the universal, of the Infinite, is thought, an
d as this it is intrinsically mediation, a going forth in fact, the abrogation a
nd absorption of the external, of the particular. Such is the nature of thought
generally. We think of an object ; in doing so, we come to have its law, its ess
ence, its universal element before us. It is thinking man and he alone who has r
eligion ; an animal has none, because it does not think. Accordingly we should h
ave to show in reference to such a determination of the finite, the particular,
the accidental, that it is the finite, &c., which translates itself into the Inf
inite, &c., which cannot remain as finite, which makes itself infinite, and must
in accordance with its' Substance return into the Infinite. This determination
belongs entirely to the logical consideration of the problem.
The exaltation or rising up of Spirit is not tied down to making the contingency
of the world its point of departure in order to arrive at the necessity of the
Essence which exists in its own right : we may, on the contrary, determine the w
orld in yet another way. Necessity is the final category of Being and Essence, t
herefore many categories precede it. The world may be a Many, a manifold. The tr
uth of it is then the One. Just as we pass from the many to the One, from the fi
nite to the Infinite, so too the transition may be made from Being in general to
Essence.
The process of transition from the finite to the Infinite, from, the accidental
to the substantial, and so on, belongs to the active operation of thought in con
sciousness, and is the inherent nature of these characteristics themselves, that
precisely which they truly are. The finite is not the Absolute ; on the contrar
y, it belongs to its very nature to pass away and become infinite ; it belongs t
o the very nature of the particular to return into the universal, and to that of
the accidental simply to return into Substance. This transition is in so far me
diation as it is movement from the initial immediate definite state into its Oth
er, into the Infinite, the Universal ; and Substance is clearly not something im
mediate, but something which comes into being by means of this transition, somet
hing self-positing. That such is the true nature of these determinations themsel
ves is demonstrated in logic ; and it is essential to hold this fast in its true
sense, namely, that it is not we in merely external reflection who pass over fr
om such qualities to that which is their Other, but rather that it is their own
essential nature so to pass over. I shall now describe in a few more words this
dialectical element in the determination in question here, namely, the finite.
We say, " It is ; " this Being is at the same time finite ; that which it is, it
is by means of its end, of its negation, by means of its limits, of the commenc
ement of an Other in it, which is not itself. " Finite "is a qualitative charact
eristic, a quality generally ; the finite implies that quality is simply definit
e character or determinateness, which is identical in an immediate way with Bein
g, so that if quality passes away, the something definite passes away too. We sa
y something is red ; here " red " is the quality ; if this quality cease, the "
something " is then no longer this particular thing, and if it were not a Substa
nce which can endure this withdrawal of quality, the " something " would be lost
. It is just the same in Spirit ; there are human beings possessed of an absolut
ely definite character ; if this be lost, they cease to be. Cato's fundamental q
uality was the Roman Republic ; as soon as that ceased, he died. This quality is
so bound up with him, that he cannot subsist without it. This quality is finite
, is essentially a limit, a negation. The limit of Cato is the Roman republican
; his spirit, his idea, has no greater compass than that. Since quality constitu
tes the limit of the Something, we call such a thing finite ; it is essentially
within its boundary, in its negation, and the particularity of the negation and
of the Something is thereby essentially in relation to its Other. This Other is
not another finite, but is the Infinite. In virtue of its essentiality the finit
e is seen to .consist in this, that it has its essentiality in its negation, .an
d this when developed is an Other, and is here the Infinite.
The leading thought is that the finite is something whose nature consists in thi
s, that it has not its Being in its own self, but has that which it is in an Oth
er, and this Other is the Infinite. The very nature of the finite it is to have
the Infinite as its truth ; that which it is, is not it itself, but is its oppos
ite, the Infinite.
This advance is necessary it is posited in the notion ; the finite is inherently
finite that is its nature. The rising up to God is thus just what we have seen
it to be ; this finite self-consciousness does not keep itself limited to the fi
nite ; it forsakes it, relinquishes it, and conceives the Infinite. This takes p
lace in the process of rising up to God, and is the rational element therein. Th
is advance is the innermost, the purely logical element, yet so conceived it onl
y expresses one side of the Whole : the finite vanishes in the Infinite ; it is
its nature to posit the Infinite as its truth ; the Infinite, which has thus com
e to be in this manner, is, however, itself as yet only the abstract Infinite ;
it is only negatively determined as the Not-finite. The essential nature of the
Infinite, too, on its part, as being this merely negatively determined Infinite,
is to annul itself and to determine itself ; in fact, to annul and absorb its n
egation, to posit itself on the one hand as affirmation, and on the other to ann
ul in like manner its abstraction, and to particularise itself and posit the mom
ent of finitude within itself. The finite vanishes at first in the Infinite ; it
is not ; its Being is only a semblance of Being. We have then the Infinite befo
re us as an abstract Infinite only, enclosed within its own sphere ; and it belo
ngs to its real nature to abolish this abstraction. This results from the notion
or conception of the Infinite. It is the negation of the negation the negation
relating itself to itself and this is absolute affirmation, and at the same time
Being, simple reference to itself : such is Being. Since this is the case, the
second element too, the Infinite, is not universally posited, but is also affirm
ation, and thus its nature is to determine itself within itself, to preserve the
moment of finitude within itself, but ideally. It is negation of the negation,
and thus contains the differentiation of the one negation from the other negatio
n. Thus limitation is involved in it, and consequently the finite too. If we def
ine the negation more strictly, then we see that the one is the Infinite and the
other the finite, and true infinitude is the unity of the two.
It is only these two moments together which constitute the nature of the Infinit
e, and its true identity ; it is this Whole which is for the first time the noti
on of the Infinite. This Infinite is to be distinguished from that which was men
tioned previously, namely, the Infinite in immediate knowledge or the Thing-in-i
tself, which is the negative Infinite void of determination, the mere Not-finite
of the Kantian philosophy. The Infinite is now no longer a " Beyond ; " it has
determinateness within itself.
The religion of nature, however imperfect its representation of the unity of the
finite and Infinite, already contains this consciousness of the Divine as being
the substantial element, which is at the same time determined, and thus has the
form of a natural mode of existence. What is beheld as God in it is this divine
Substance in a natural form. Here, therefore, the content is more concrete and
consequently better; it contains more truth than that found in immediate knowled
ge, which refuses to know the nature of God, because it holds that He is undeter
mined. Natural religion really occupies a higher standpoint than this view, whic
h is characteristic of more recent times, though those who hold it still mean to
believe in a revealed religion. If we now consider the transition already speci
fied as it presents itself in the proofs of the existence of God, we find it exp
ressed in the form of a syllogism to be the Cosmological Proof. In metaphysics t
he essence of this proof is that contingent Being, the contingency of worldly th
ings, is made the starting-point, and then the other determination is not that o
f infinitude, but that of something necessary in and for itself. This last is in
deed a much more concrete determination than that of the Infinite ; only, in acc
ordance with the content of the proof, it is not it that is in question here, bu
t it is only the logical nature of the transition which comes under consideratio
n.
If we put the transition in this way into the form of a syllogism, we then say t
hat the finite presupposes the Infinite ; the finite is, consequently there is a
n Infinite. If we look at such a syllogism critically, we perceive that it leave
s us cold or indifferent; something different from this and more than this is as
ked for in religion. From one point of view this demand is right enough ; on the
other hand, however, such a rejection of proof involves the depreciation of tho
ught, as if we made use of feeling, and had to appeal to popular or pictorial co
nceptions in order to produce conviction. The true nerve is true thought ; only
when that is true is feeling too of a true kind.
What is specially noticeable here is that a finite form of Being is accepted as
the starting-point, and this finite Being thus appears as that by means of which
the infinite Being gets its foundation. A finite Being thus appears as the foun
dation or basis. Mediation is given a position which implies that the consciousn
ess of the Infinite has its origin in the finite. To speak more accurately, what
we have here is that the finite is expressed in terms which imply that it has o
nly a positive relation between the two. The proposition thus means that the Bei
ng of the finite is the Being of the Infinite. This relation is at once seen to
be inadequate in reference to the two sides. The finite is the positing agent, i
t remains the affirmative, the relation is a positive one, and the Being of the
finite is what is primarily the basis, which is the point of departure, and whic
h is the abiding element. It is to be remarked further, that when we say the Bei
ng of the finite is the Being of the Infinite, the Being of the finite, which is
itself the Being of the Infinite, is in this way the major premiss of the syllo
gism, and the mediation between the Being of the finite and that of the Infinite
is not shown. It is a proposition without mediation, and that is precisely the
opposite of what is demanded.
This mediation contains a further determination besides. The Being of the finite
is not its own Being, but that of the Other, that of the Infinite; it is not th
rough the Being of the finite that the Infinite arises, but out of the not-being
of the finite ; this is the Being of the Infinite. The mediation is of such a k
ind that the finite stands before us as affirmation. Looked at more closely, the
finite is that which it is as negation ; thus it is not the Being, but the not-
being of the finite ; the mediation between the two is rather the negative natur
e in the finite, and thus the true moment of mediation is not expressed in this
proposition. The deficiency in the form of the syllogism is that this true conte
nt, this element which belongs essentially to the notion, cannot be expressed in
the form of a single syllogism. The Being of the Infinite is the negation of th
e finite ; the destiny of the finite is simply to pass over into the Infinite, a
nd thus the other propositions which belong to a syllogism do not permit of bein
g superadded. The defect here is that the finite is pronounced to be affirmative
and its relation to the Infinite is declared to be positive, while it is yet es
sentially negative, and this dialectic escapes the form of the syllogism of the
understanding. . If the finite presupposes the Infinite, the following principle
, although not distinctly expressed, is implied in this. The finite is what posi
ts, but as something which presupposes or preposits the existence of something e
lse, so that the Infinite is the first and the essential element. When the presu
pposition is more fully developed it involves the negative moment of the finite
and its relation to the Infinite. What is implied in religion is not that the af
firmative nature of the finite, its immediacy, is that on account of which the I
nfinite exists ; neither is the Infinite the self-annulling of the finite. The p
roof, the form of the relation of the finite to the Infinite the thought takes a
wrong direction, owing to the form of the syllogism. Religion, however, contain
s this Thinking, this passing over from the finite to the Infinite, a passing ov
er which is not of a chance character, but is necessary, and which the very conc
eption of the nature of the Infinite brings with it. This thought, which essenti
ally belongs to the substance of religion, is not correctly laid hold of in the
syllogistic form.
The deficiency in the mediation of the proof is this, that the Unconditioned is
expressed as conditioned by means of another form of Being. The simple determina
tion of negation is let go. In the true mediation the .transition is also made f
rom the Many to the One, and in such a manner too that the One, is expressed as
mediated. But this defect is amended in the true exaltation of the Spirit, and,
in fact, in virtue of its being stated that it is not the Many that exist, but t
he One. Through this negation the mediation and the condition are done away .wit
h, and that which is necessary in and for itself is now mediated through negatio
n of mediation. God creates : here, then, we have the relation of two and mediat
ion. This, however, is a judgment, a differentiation : God is no longer the dark
Essence existing in a state of torpor ; He manifests Himself, He reveals Himsel
f, He posits a distinction and is for an Other. This distinction in its highest
expression is the Son. The Son is by means of the Father, and conversely in Him
only is God revealed. But in this Other God is at home with Himself, does not go
outside of Himself; He relates Himself to Himself ; and since this is no longer
a relation toward what is other than Himself, mediation is done away with.
God is therefore that which is inherently and absolutely necessary necessary in
and for itself ; this determination is the absolute foundation. If even this be
not sufficient, God must be conceived of as Substance.
We now come to the other aspect of the subject ; it is the converse one, the rel
ation in which Substance stands to the finite. In the act of rising up from the
finite to Substance there is a mediation which was done away with in the result,
posited as non-existent. In the turning round of Substance toward the many, the
finite, and so forth, this annulled mediation is to be taken up again, but in s
uch a way that in the movement of the result it comes to be posited as null ; th
at is to say, it is not only the result which must be apprehended, but in that r
esult the Whole and its process. Now when the Whole is apprehended in this manne
r, it is said that Substance has accidents, has the infinite manifolduess which
belongs to this Substance as a form of Being which passes away. That which is pe
rishes. But death is just as much again the beginning of life ; the perishing or
passing away is the beginning of the rise of existence, and there is only a vee
ring round from Being into NotBeing, and vice versd. This is the alternation of
accidentality, and Substance is now the unity of this alternation itself. What i
s perennial is this alternation ; what is thus alternation and at the same time
unity is the substantial element, the necessity which translates the origination
into passing away, and vice versd. Substance is the absolute power or force of
Being ; Being belongs to it of right ; but it is likewise the unity of the act o
f veering round, when Being veers round into Not-Being ; it is again, however, t
he dominating power over the process of perishing, so that the perishing perishe
s.
The defect attaching to this oriental Substance, as well as to that of Spinoza,
lies in the categories of origination and perishing. Substance is not conceived
of as the active agent within itself, as subject and as activity in accordance w
ith ends ; not as wisdom, but only as power. It is something devoid of content ;
specific character, purpose is not contained in it ; the specific character whi
ch manifests itself in this originating and perishing is not grasped in thought.
It is essentially purposeless empty power, which merely staggers about, so to s
peak. Such is the system which is called Pantheism. God is here the absolute Pow
er, the Being in all determinate Being, the purification of Himself . from deter
minateness and negation. That things are, is owing to Substance ; that they are
not, is likewise owing to the power of Substance, and this power is immediately
immanent for the things.
We have an example of this Pantheism also in the expression of Jacobi : " God is
Being in all determinate Being ; " and we undoubtedly get from him in this conn
ection very brilliant definitions of God. This determinate Being contains Being
in an immediate manner within itself, and this Being in determinate Being is God
, who is thus the Universal in determinate Being. Being is the most arid possibl
e determination of God, and if He is to be Spirit it is supremely unsatisfactory
; when used in this way as the Being of determinate Being in finite reality we
have Pantheism. Jacobi's system was far removed from Pantheism, yet the latter i
s involved in that expression, and Science is not concerned with what a person t
hinks in his own mind ; on the contrary, it is what is expressed that it conside
rs to be of importance.
Parmenides says, Being is everything. This seems to. be the same thing, and thus
to be Pantheism too; but this thought is purer than that of Jacobi, and is not
Pantheism. For he says expressly that Being alone is,. and all limitation, all r
eality, all definite modes of existence come to be included in Not-Being ; this
latter, accordingly, is not at all, but it has Being only. With Parmenides that
which is known as determinate Being is no longer present or existent at all. By
Jacobi, on the contrary, determinate Being is regarded as affirmative, although
it is finite, and thus it is affirmation in finite existence. Spinoza 'says, Wha
t is is the absolute substance ; what is other than this are mere modi, to which
he ascribes no affirmation, no reality. Thus it cannot perhaps be said even of
the Substance of Spinoza that it is so precisely Pantheistic as that expression
of Jacobi, for particular things still remain as little an affirmative for Spino
za as determinate Being does for Parmenides, which, as distinguished from Being,
is for him mere Not-Being, and is of such a character that this Not-Being is no
t at all. < If the finite be taken as thought, then all that is finite is -under
stood to ,be included, and thus it is Pantheism. But in using the term finite it
is necessary to draw a distinction between the finite as represented merely by
this or that particular object, and the finite as including all things, and to e
xplain in which sense we use the word. Taken in the latter sense, it is already
a progressive movement of reflection, which no longer arrests itself at the Part
icular; "all that is finite" pertains to reflection. This Pantheism is of modern
date, and if it be said that "God is Being in all determinate Being," this expr
esses a form of Pantheism found among Mohammedans of modern times, especially th
e Pantheism of the Dechelalcddin-Rumi. Here this everything as it is is a Whole,
and is God; and the finite is in this determinate Being as universal finitude.
This Pantheism is the product of thinking reflection, which extends natural thin
gs so as to include all and everything, and in so doing conceives of the existen
ce of God not as true universality of thought, but as an allness ; that is to sa
y, as being in all individual natural existences, i. It may be remarked further
in passing, that the definition given by more recent philosophical systems, acco
rding to . which Spirit is unity with itself, and comprises the World as somethi
ng ideal within itself, is called Pantheism, or more precisely the Pantheism of
Spiritualism. But here the category of unity is understood in a one-sided manner
only, and the category of Creation, in which God is cause, and the separation i
s so patent that the creation is independent relatively to Him, is placed in con
trast to it. But it is precisely the fundamental characteristic of Spirit that i
t is this differentiation and positing of the difference ; and that is the very
creation which those who bring the charge of Pantheism always want to have. The
next thing indeed is that the separation does not remain permanent, but is annul
led ; for otherwise we would find ourselves in dualism and Manicheeism.
We now return to the conception in accordance with which Substance, as the unive
rsal ruling power of thought, is brought into prominence on its own account.
This exaltation, this knowing, is not, however, as yet religion, for there is wa
nting to it the moment or. element which is indispensable in religion as the ful
ly' developed idea, namely, the moment of Spirit. The position given to this mom
ent here results from Substance not being as yet determined within itself as Spi
rit that is, from Spirit not being as yet determined as Substance. Thus Spirit i
s outside of Substance, and is outside of it in the sense of being different fro
m it.
We have now to consider the fundamental character of Pantheism in its more defin
ite forms and under its religious aspects.
. The Chinese Religion, or the Religion of Measure.
(a.) The General Character of this Religion. In the first place, Substance conti
nues to be thought of under that aspect of Being which does indeed conie nearest
to Essence, but yet still pertains to the immediateness of Being ; and Spirit,
which is different from it, is a particular, finite Spirit, is Man. This Spirit
is, viewed from one side, that which is possessed of authority it is what carrie
s that power into effect ; viewed from the other side, it is, as subjected to th
at power, the accidental element. If man be conceived of as this power, so that
it is looked upon as acting and working in him, or else that he succeeds by mean
s of worship in positing himself as identical with it, the power has the form of
Spirit, but of the human finite spirit ; and here enters in the element of sepa
ration from others over whom he has power.
(b.) The Historical Existence of this Religion. We have, it is true, emerged fro
m that immediate religion in which we were at the stage of magic, since the part
icular spirit now distinguishes itself from Substance, and stands in such a rela
tion toward it that it regards it as the universal Power. In the Chinese religio
n, which represents the earliest historical form of this substantial relation, S
ubstance is thought of as representing the entire sphere of essential Being or m
easure ; measure represents what exists in-and-for itself, the Unchangeable, and
T'ien, Heaven, is the objective material representation of this essentially exi
sting element. Notwithstanding this, the element of magic still intrudes itself
into this sphere, in so far as in the world of reality the individual man, the w
ill and empirical consciousness, are what is highest. Nay, the standpoint of mag
ic has here broadened out into an organised monarchy, which presents the appeara
nce of something imposing and majestic.
T'ien is the Highest, but not in the spiritual, moral sense alone; T'ien rather
denotes wholly indeterminate abstract universality ; it is the wholly indetermin
ate sum of all physical and moral connection whatsoever. Along "with this concep
tion, however, we have the other idea that it is the Emperor who is sovereign up
on earth, and not the Heavens. It is not Heaven which has given laws or gives th
em, laws which the people respect, divine laws, laws of religion, of morality. I
t is not T'ien who governs nature ; it is the Emperor who governs everything, an
d he only is in connection with this T'ien.
It is the Emperor alone who brings offerings to T'ieii at the four principal fes
tivals of the year. He also confers with T'ien, offers his prayers to him ; he a
lone stands in connection with him, and governs everything on earth. The Emperor
has in his hands, too, authority over natural things and their changes, and rul
es their forces.
We distinguish between the world, the phenomena of the world, and God, in a way
which implies that God also rules outside of this world. Here, however, the Empe
ror alone is the one who rules. The Heaven of the Chinese T'ien is something ent
irely empty ; the souls of the departed exist, it is true, in it, they survive t
he separation from the body, but they also belong to the world, since they are t
hought of as lords over the course of nature. And they too are under the rule of
the Emperor ; he instals them in their offices and deposes them. If the dead ar
e conceived of as directors of the realm of nature, it might be said that they a
re thus given an exalted position ; but the fact of the matter is that they are
degraded into genii of the natural world, and therefore it is right that the sel
f-conscious Will should direct those genii.
The Heaven of the Chinese, therefore, is not a world which forms an independent
realm above the earth, and which is in its own right the realm of the Ideal, lik
e the heaven we conceive of, with angels and the souls of the departed ; nor is
it like the Greek Olympus, which is distinct from life upon earth. Here, on the
contrary, everything is upon earth, and all that has power is subject to the Emp
eror; it is this individual self-consciousness which in a conscious way exercise
s complete sovereignty. As regard the element of Measure, there are established
typical forms which are called Reason (Tao). The laws of Tao, or Measures, are d
eterminations, figurations ; not abstract Being nor abstract Substance, but figu
res or signs of Substance, which may either be understood in a more abstract sen
se, or else are to be taken as the determinations for nature and for the spirit
of man, the laws of his will and of his reason.
The detailed statement and development of these measures would comprise the enti
re philosophy and science of the Chinese. Here we have only to treat of the prin
cipal points.
The measures in abstract Universality are quite simple categories : Being and No
t-Being, One and Two, which is equivalent in general to the Many. The Chinese re
present these universal categories by lineal figures; the
fundamental figure is the line; a simple line ( )
signifies the one, and affirmation or " yes ; " the interrupted line ( ) two, di
vision, and negation or " no."
These signs are called Kud, and the Chinese relate that these signs appeared to
them upon the shell of the tortoise. There are many different combinations of th
ese, which in their turn give more concrete meanings of those original typical f
orms. Among these more concrete meanings we may specially remark the four quarte
rs of the world and the centre ; four mountains which correspond to these region
s of the world and one in the middle ; five elements, earth, fire, water, wood,
metal. In the same way there are five fundamental colours, of which each belongs
to an element. Each ruling dynasty in China has a special colour, an element, a
nd so on. In like manner there are also five keynotes in music ; five fundamenta
l determinations for the actions of man in his relations to others. The first an
d highest is that of children to their parents, the second is reverence for dece
ased ancestors and the dead, the third obedience to the Emperor, the fourth the
mutual relations of brothers and sisters, the fifth the attitude to be assumed t
owards other men.
These determinations of Measure constitute the basis Reason. Men have to guide t
hemselves in conformity with these, and as regards the natural elements, it is l
aid down that their genii are to be reverenced by man.
There are people who devote themselves exclusively to the study of this Eeason,
who hold aloof from all practical life and live in solitude ; yet what is always
of most importance is, that these laws should be brought into use in practical
life. When these are maintained intact, when duties are observed by men, then ev
erything is in order in nature as well as in the empire ; it goes well both with
the empire and the individual. There is a moral connection here between the act
ion of man and what takes place in nature. If misfortune overtakes the empire, w
hether owing to floods or earthquakes, conflagrations, dry weather, and the like
, this is regarded as entirely the result of man's not having been obedient to t
he laws of Eeason, and as having happened because the rules of Measure have not
been maintained in the empire. Owing to this, universal Measure is destroyed, an
d misfortune of the kind just described enters the land.
Thus Measure is known here as Being-in-and-for itself. This is the general found
ation.
What conies next has to do with the giving effect to Measure. The maintenance of
the laws belongs of right to the Emperor, to the Emperor as the Son of Heaven,
which is the whole, the totality of Measure. The sky, as the visible firmament,
is at the same time the power of Measure. The Emperor is the Son of Heaven (T'ie
ntsze) ; he has to honour the laws and to promote their recognition. The heir to
the throne is made acquainted with all the sciences and with the laws by means
of a careful education. It is the Emperor alone who renders honour to the law ;
his subjects have only to give the homage to himself which lie renders to the la
w. The Emperor brings offerings. This means nothing else than that the Ernperor
prostrates himself and reverences the law. Among the few Chinese festivals, that
of agriculture is one of the principal. The Emperor presides over it ; on the d
ay of the festival he himself ploughs the field ; the corn which grows upon this
field is used for offerings. The Empress has the rearing of silk-worms under he
r direction, for this supplies the material for clothing, just as agriculture is
the source of all nourishment. When floods, drought, and the like lay waste and
scourge the country, this concerns the Emperor alone ; he recognises his offici
als, and especially himself, as being the cause of misfortune ; if he and his ma
gistrates had properly maintained the law, the misfortune would not have taken p
lace. The Emperor, therefore, commands the officials to examine themselves, and
to see wherein they have failed in duty ; and he in like manner devotes himself
to meditation and repentance on account of his not having acted rightly. Upon th
e fulfilment of duty, therefore, depends the prosperity both of the empire and t
he individual. In this way the entire worship of God reduces itself .for the sub
jects to a moral life. The Chinese religion may thus be called a moral religion,
and it is from this point of view that it has been found possible to hold that
the Chinese are atheists. These definite laws of measure and specific rules of d
uty are due for the most part to Confucius ; his works are principally occupied
with moral questions of this kind.
This power of the laws and of the rules of Measure is an aggregate of many speci
al rules and laws. These special rules must now be known as activities too; in t
his particular or special aspect they are subjected to the universal activity, n
amely, to the Emperor, who is the power over the collective activities. These sp
ecial powers are accordingly represented as human beings, and especially as the
departed ancestors of existing persons. For a man is specially known as a power
when he has departed that is to say, when he is no longer entangled in the inter
ests of daily life. One, however, who of his own will withdraws himself from the
world, sinks into himself and directs his activities toward the Universal alone
, and towards the gaining of a knowledge of these powers, renouncing the associa
tions of daily life, and holding himself aloof from all enjoyments, may also be
regarded as having departed, for in such a case a man has passed a^vay so far as
concrete human life is concerned, and he too, therefore, comes to be recognised
as a special power.
Besides this there are creatures of imagination who hold this power in trust, an
d these constitute a very fully developed realm, which consists of special power
s of this kind. The entire body of these is subject to the Universal Power, name
ly, to that of the Emperor, who instals them and gives them commands. The best w
ay in which to get a knowledge of this extensive realm of popular conception is
to study a section of Chinese history as we have it in the information given by
the Jesuits in the learned work Mdmoires sur les Chinois. In connection with the
inauguration of a new dynasty we find, among other things, the following descri
ption.
About the year B.C., a time which is still pretty accurately determined in Chine
se history, the Chau dynasty came to the throne. Wu was the first Emperor of thi
s dynasty ; the last of the preceding dynasty, Shau, had, like his predecessors,
governed badly, so that the Chinese imagined that the evil genius which had emb
odied itself in him must have been reigning. With a new dynasty everything on ea
rth and in heaven must be renewed, and this was accomplished by the new Emperor
with the help of the commander-inchief of his army. New laws, new music, new dan
ces, new officials, were introduced, and therefore both the living and the dead
had to be placed under new directors.
A point of great importance was the destruction of the graves of the preceding d
ynasty that is to say, the destruction of the worship of ancestors, who had hith
erto been the powers ruling over families and over nature generally. Since there
were in the new empire families who were attached to the old dynasty, whose rel
ations had held the higher offices, and particularly military posts, yet to offe
nd whom would have been impolitic, a means had to be found by which the dead rel
atives of these families should continue to enjoy the respect and reverence in w
hich they had hitherto been held. Wu accomplished this in the following way. Aft
er the flames had been extinguished in the capital (it was not as yet Pekin), th
e flames, namely, which the last prince had had kindled in order to destroy the
Imperial Palace with all its treasures, women, &c., the empire and its governmen
t were brought under Wu's authority, and the moment had arrived for him to make
his entrance as Emperor into the Imperial city, to present himself to the people
, and to give laws. He nevertheless announced that he could not do this until ev
erything was brought into proper order between himself and Heaven. With regard t
o this imperial constitution between himself and Heaven, it was given out that i
t was contained in two books which were deposited upon a mountain in the care of
a venerable sage. Of these two books, one contained the new laws, and the other
the names and offices of the genii, called Ch'i, who were the new directors of
the empire in the world of nature, in the same way as the mandarins are in the w
orld of every-day life. Wu's general was sent off to fetch these books ; this ma
n was himself already a Ch'i, a present genius, to which dignity he had attained

" Spirits generally, and especially those whose seat is referred to heaven, are
called Shan ; those whose influence is in and over the earth are during his life
time by more than forty years of study and exercise. The books were brought. The
Emperor purified himself and fasted three days ; on the fourth day at sunrise h
e appeared in imperial array with the book of the new laws ; this was laid upon
the altar, offerings were presented, and thanks given to Heaven for the book. Up
on this the laws were proclaimed, and, to the supreme astonishment and satisfact
ion of the people, it turned out that they were absolutely the same as the forme
r ones. It is generally the case that at a change of dynasty the old laws remain
in force with but little alteration. The second book was not opened, but the ge
neral was sent with it to a mountain, in order to promulgate it to the Shan, and
to impart the commands of the Emperor to them. In this book their installation
and degradation were contained. The story goes on to say that the general had ca
lled the Shan together on the mountain ; this mountain lay in the region which w
as the original home of the new dynasty. The departed had assembled themselves o
n the mountain in accordance with the higher or lower rank which they held, whil
e the general sat upon a throne in the midst of them, which had been erected for
this purpose. He was splendidly attired and decorated with the eight Kua ;. the
imperial standard and the sceptre, the staff of command over the Shan, lay upon
an altar before him, and likewise the diploma of the sage who thereby authorise
d the general to make known the new commands to the Shan. The general read the d
iploma ; the Shan who had ruled
simply styled Ch'i, and another character altogether, is employed for the spirit
s or manes of departed men." Religions of China, p. . This other character is "'
Kwei." "We have seen," it is added farther on, "that Kwei was the name for the
spirit of departed men, and Shan the name for spirits generally, and specially f
or spirits of heaven. The combination of the names (kwei shan) can often be tran
slated in no other way than by spirits, spiritual beings " (pp. -. )
Hegel uses the word " Schin " in all cases, but it has been thought better to ta
ke advantage in translation of the learned authority of Dr. Legge, both as regar
ds words and the orthography of names, (TR. S.) under the previous dynasty were
declared unworthy to rule any longer on account of their neglect, which was the
cause of the disasters that had overtaken the country, and they were dismissed f
rom their posts. They were told that they could go wherever they liked, they mig
ht even enter into human life again in order that they might in this way earn a
recompense anew. The deputed commander-in-chief now named the new Shan, and comm
anded one of those present to take the register and to read it aloud. He obeyed,
and found his name to be the first on the list. The commander-in-chief then con
gratulated him upon this recognition of his virtues. He was an old general. Afte
rwards the others were summoned, some of whom had fallen in the interests of the
new dynasty, and some who had fought and sacrificed themselves in those of the
former one. In particular, there was one among them, a prince, commander-in-chie
f of the army of the former dynasty. In time of war he had been an able and a gr
eat general, in peace a faithful and conscientious minister, and it was he who h
ad placed the greatest hindrances in the way of the new dynasty, until finally h
e perished in battle. His name was the fifth that is to say, it followed upon th
ose of the directors of the four mountains which represented the four quarters o
f the world and the four seasons. As his office, he was to be intrusted with the
inspection of all the Shan who were put in charge of rain, wind, thunder, and c
louds. But his name had to be called twice, and the staff of command had to be s
hown to him before he would approach the throne ; he came with a contemptuous mi
en, and remained proudly standing. The general addressed him with the words, "Th
ou art no longer what thou wast among men, thou art nothing but an ordinary Shan
 who has as yet no office ; I have to convey one to thee from the master, give r
everence to this command." Upon this the Shan fell down, a long speech was addre
ssed to him, and he was appointed to be the chief of those Ch'i whose business i
t is to take charge of rain and thunder. It now became his business to create ra
in at the proper time, to disperse the clouds when they were likely to be the ca
use of floods, not to allow the wind to increase to a storm, and only to permit
the thunder to exercise its power for the purpose of frightening the wicked and
of occasioning their repentance. He received four-and-twenty adjutants, to each
of whom his own special inspectorship was intrusted, and this was changed every
fortnight: of these, some were put in charge of other departments. The Chinese h
ave five elements, and these, too, were given chiefs. To one Shan was given the
oversight of fire, with reference to conflagrations ; six Shans were appointed o
ver epidemics, and received orders with a view to the alleviation of the trouble
s of human society, to purge it from time to time from superabundance of populat
ion. After all the offices were distributed, the book was given back to the Empe
ror, and to this day it constitutes the astrological part of the calendar. Two d
irectories appear every year in China; one relates to the mandarins, the other t
o the invisible officials, the Ch'i [viz., Shan who have become such]. In case o
f the failure of crops, conflagrations, floods, &c., the Ch'i who are concerned
are dismissed, their images thrown down, and feesh Ch'i appointed. Thus the lord
ship of the Emperor over nature is here a completely organised monarchy.
There were besides among the Chinese a class of men who occupied themselves inwa
rdly, who not only belonged to the general State religion of T'ien, but formed a
sect who gave themselves up to thought, and sought to attain to consciousness o
f what the True is. The first stage of advance out of that earliest attitude of
natural religion (which was, that immediate self-consciousness in its very immed
iateness, knows itself to be what is highest, to be the sovereign power) is the
return of consciousness into itself, the claim that consciousness has essentiall
y a meditating character. This stage is exemplified in the sect of Tdo.
It is, however, to be remarked that these persons who are absorbed in thought, i
n an inner life, and betake themselves to the abstraction of thought, at the sam
e time have it as an aim to become immortal, pure beings in their own right, par
tly on account of their having been previously consecrated, and partly because,
since they have reached the goal and attained mastership, they deem themselves h
igher beings, even as regards their existence here and their actual state.
This turning inwards, toward abstracting pure thought, is thus already to be fou
nd in ancient times among the Chinese. A revival or reform of the doctrine of Ta
o took place at a later date ; this is principally ascribed to Lao-tsze, a wise
man, who, although somewhat older, was contemporary with Confucius and Pythagora
s.
Confucius is emphatically a moral, and not a speculative philosopher. T'ien, thi
s universal power over nature which attains to reality by the authority of the E
mperor, is closely associated with morals generally, and it was this moral aspec
t especially which was developed by Confucius. With the sect of Tao the initial
act is the passing over into thought, into the pure element. It is remarkable in
this connection that in Tao in Totality the idea of the Trinity makes its appea
rance. The One has produced the Two, and the Two the Three : this is the Univers
um. Thus, as soon as ever man took up a thinking attitude, the idea of Trinity a
t once made its appearance as the result of this. The One or Unity is wholly cha
racterless or devoid of determination, and is simply abstraction. If it is to ha
ve the principle of life and of spirituality, an advance must be made to determi
nation. Unity is only real in so far as it contains two within itself, and with
this Trinity is given. That this advance has been made to thought does not, howe
ver, imply that any higher spiritual religion has as yet established itself: the
determinations of Tao remain complete abstractions, and life, consciousness, th
e spiritual element is not. found, so to speak, in Tao itself, but still belongs
 absolutely and entirely to man in his immediate character.
To us God is the Universal, but determined within Himself; God is Spirit; His ex
istence is spirituality. Here the actuality, the living form of Tao, is still th
e actual immediate consciousness. Though it is indeed dead, as represented by La
o-tsze, it yet transforms itself into other shapes, and is living and actually p
resent in its priests.
Like T'ien, this One is the governing power, but is only an abstract basis, the
Emperor being the actual embodiment of this basis, and, strictly speaking, the r
eal governing power, and the same is the case with the idea of Eeason. Reason is
, in like manner, the abstract foundation, which only has its actuality in exist
ing human beings.
(c.) Worship or Cultiis. Worship really represents the whole existence of the re
ligion of Measure, the power of Substance not having as yet taken on the form of
a stable objectivity, and even the realm of idea or popular conception, so far
as it has developed itself in that of the Shan, is in subjection to the power of
the Emperor, who is himself merely the actual embodiment of the Substantial.
When, accordingly, we begin to inquire into worship in the stricter sense, all t
hat is left for us to do is to examine the relation of the universal determinate
ness of this religion to inner life and to self-consciousness.
The Universal being only the abstract foundation, man remains in it without havi
ng a strictly immanent, realised, or concrete inner character ; he has no firm h
old or stability within himself. Not until freedom, not until rationality comes
in does he possess this, for then he is the consciousness of being free, and thi
s freedom develops until it appears as reason. This developed reason yields abso
lute principles and duties, and the man who is conscious of these absolute deter
minations in his freedom, in his consciousness, who knows they are immanent dete
rminations within him, has then, for the first time within himself, within his c
onscience, something to hold by and to give him stability. In so far only as man
knows God as Spirit, and knows the determinations of Spirit, are these divine d
eterminations essential, absolute determinations of rationality determinations,
in fact, of that which is duty within him, and which, so far as he is concerned,
is immanent in him.
Where the Universal is merely this abstract foundation in a general sense, man h
as no immanent definite inner life within himself. For this reason, all that is
external acquires an inward character for him ; everything external has a meanin
g for him, a relation to him, and, in fact, a practical relation. From a general
point of view, this external element is the constitution of the State, the fact
that he is ruled from without.
No morality in the strict sense, no immanent rationality by means of which man w
ould have worth and dignity within himself and protection against what is extern
al, is bound up with this religion. All which has a relation to him is for him a
power, because he possesses no power in his own rationality and moral sense. Th
e result is this indefinable dependence upon all external circumstances, this co
mplete and entirely arbitrary superstition.
Speaking generally, what lies at the foundation of this external dependence is t
he fact that all that is particular cannot be placed in an inner relation with a
Universal, which remains merely abstract. The interests of individuals lie outs
ide of the universal determinations which the Emperor puts into practice. As reg
ards particular interests, what we find is rather the conception of a power whic
h exists on its own account. This is not the universal power of Providence, whic
h extends its sway even over the destinies of individuals. What we find rather i
s that the Particular is brought under the sway of a particular power. This powe
r is that of the Shan, and with it a whole realm of superstition enters in.
Thus the Chinese are in perpetual fear and dread with regard to everything, beca
use all that is external has a meaning, is for them a power which is able to use
force against them and to affect them.
China is, par excellence, the home of divination ; in. every locality you find m
any people who deal in prophecies. The finding of the right spot for a grave, qu
estions of locality, of relations in space, &c., are the kind of things with whi
ch they occupy themselves during their entire life.
If in building a house another house flanks their own, and the front has an angl
e towards it, all possible ceremonies are gone through, and the special powers i
n question are rendered propitious by means of presents. The individual is wholl
y without the power of personal decision and without subjective freedom.

END OF VOL. I.

________________

LECTURES ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION II

DEFINITE RELIGION

FIRST DIVISION

THE RELIGION OF NATURE

II. The division of consciousness within itself (continued)

2 . The religion of imagination or phantasy
a. Its conception.
b. The general idea of the objective content of this stage
c. Worship or cultus.
3. The religion of Being-within-self
a. Its conception
b. The historical existence of this religion
c. Worship or cultus
III. The religion of nature in transition to the religion of freedom.
1. The religion of the Good, or of light
a. Its conception
b. This religion as it actually exists
c. Worship or cultus.
2. The Syrian religion, or the religion of pain.
3. The religion of mystery
a. The characterisation of the conception or notion of this stage
b. The concrete idea belonging to this stage
c. Worship or cultus

THE RELIGION OF SPIRITUAL INDIVIDUALITY

A The transition, to the sphere of spiritual individuality .

B. The metaphysical conception or notisphere . a. The conception of the One b. N
ecessity . i . c. Conformity to an end
I - The religion of sublimity .
A The general nature of its conception or notion
B The concrete general idea or popular conceptic
a. The determination of the divine particu tion .
b. The form of the world .
c The end God works out in the world
C Worship or cultus
The transition to the stage which follows
II. - The religion of beauty
A. The general conception or notion
B The outward form of the Divine .
a The conflict of the spiritual and the natural
b. Formless necessity.
Posited necessity or the particular gods
C. Worship or cultus
a Inner feeling
b Worship as service
c Service as reconciliation .
III. The religion of utility or of the Understanding
A. The general conception of this stage .
B. This religion as the Roman religion .
C. Worship or cultus .

PART III
THE ABSOLUTE RELIGION
A. The general aspects of this religion.
1. The revealed religion.
2. The revealed religion known as revealed.
3. The religion of truth and freedom
B. The metaphysical notion or conception of the Idea of God

__________________

PART II
DEFINITE RELIGION

II

THE DIVISION OF CONSCIOUSNESS WITHIN ITSELF (continued")

2. The, Religion of Imagination or Phantasy.

(a.) Its Conception.
The second of the main forms of Pantheism, when this latter actually appears as
religion, is still within the sphere of this same principle of the One substanti
al Power, in which all that we see around us, and even the freedom of man itself
, has merely a negative, accidental character. We saw that the substantial Power
, in its first form, comes to be known as representing the multitude of esssenti
al determinations, and the entire sphere of these, and not as being in its own s
elf spiritual. And now the question immediately arises as to how this Power is i
tself determined, and what is its content ? Self-consciousness in religion canno
t, like the abstract thinking understanding, limit itself to the idea of that Po
wer known only as an aggregate of determinations which merely are. In this way t
he Power is not as yet known as real, as independently existing unity ; not as y
et as a Principle. Now the opposite form of this determination is the taking bac
k of the manifold determinateness of existence into the unity of inner self dete
rmination. This concentration of self-deterrnmatio] contains the beginning of Sp
irituality.
I The Universal, as determining its own self, and not merely as a multitude of r
ules, is Thought, exists as Thought It is in our thoughts alone that Nature, the
rulin Power which brings forth everything, ex ts as the Universal, as this One
Essence, as this One Power which exists for itself. What we have before us in Na
ture is this Universal, but not as a Universal, is in our thought that the truth
of Nature is brought into prominence on its own account as Idea, or more abstra
ctly as something having a universal character. Universality is, however, in its
very nature Thought, and as self-determining is the source of all determination
But at the stage at which we now are, and where the Universal appears for the f
irst time as the determining a^nt as a Principle, it is not as yet Spirit, but a
bstract Universality generally. The Universal being known in this way as Thought
, it remains as such shut up within itself. " It is the source of all power, but
does not externalise or make itself manifest as such.
Now to Spirit belongs the power of differentiation and the full development of t
he difference. Of the systeni of this complete development, the concrete unfoldi
ng of Thoucrht on its own account, and that particular unfolding which as manife
station or appearance is Nature and the spiritual world, form an inherent part.
Since, however, the Principle which makes its appearance at the present sta-e ha
s not as yet got so far as to permit of this untbldin" taking place within that
principle itself, it bein" rather held fast in simple abstract concentration onl
y the unfolding, the fulness of the actual Idea, is found outside of the Princip
le, and consequently d]rTerentiation and manifoldness are abandoned to the wilde
st, most outward forms of imagination. The specialisation of the Universal manif
ests itself iu a multitude of independent powers.
. This multiplicity, this wild abandonment, is once more taken back into the ori
ginal unity. This taking back, this concentration of thought, would complete the
moment of spirituality so far as the Idea is concerned, if the original univers
al thought resolved within its own self upon differentiation, and if it were kno
wn as essentially this act of taking back. Upon the basis of abstract thought, h
owever, the taking back itself remains a process devoid of Spirit. There is noth
ing wanting here, so far as the moments of the Idea of Spirit are concerned, the
Idea of rationality is present in this advance. But yet those moments do not co
nstitute Spirit ; the unfolding does not give itself the perfect form of Spirit,
because the determinations remain merely universal. There is merely a continual
return to that Universality which is self-active, but which is held fast in the
abstraction of self-determination. We have thus the abstract One and the wildne
ss of extravagant ima^ination, which, it is true, is recognised in turn as remai
ning in identity with what is primary, but is not expanded into the concrete uni
ty of the Spiritual. The unity of the intelligible realm reaches the condition o
f particular independent existence ; this last does not, however, become absolut
ely free, but remains confined within universal Substance.
But just because the unfolding does not as yet return in a true way into the Not
ion, is not as yet taken back into the Notion by its own inner action, it still
retains its immediacy in spite of that return, still belongs to natural religion
, and therefore the moments full apart, and are kept independent and separate re
latively to one another. This is the curse of nature. Everywhere we shall find t
ones that accord with the Notion, with the True, which, however, become the more
horrible in the strain as a whole because they continue to retain the character
of separateness or mutual exclusion, and because the moments, being independent
and objective in their particularity, are looked upon theoretically.
The further question which now presents itself is, What are the forms, the shape
s in which this independence appears ? We are actually in such a world, consciou
sness finds itself in an existing world, of such a mutually exclusive character
in a world of sense, and thus has to deal with a world of many-coloured manifold
ness. Taking it as a whole, it is thus just " these," these individual things ;
that is the fundamental determination here. We call "these," Things, and this is
the more precise characteristic we assign to the Objective, and by which we dis
tinguish it from Spirit. In a similar way we have in inner life to do with manif
old forces, spiritual distinctions and experiences, which the understanding in l
ike manner isolates; as, for example, this inclination, that passion, this power
of memory, that power of judgment, &c. In thinking, too, we have determinations
each of which exists for itself, such as positive, negative, being, not-being ;
this, for our consciousness, which takes things in their sensuous aspect, for o
ur understanding, is independence. In this way we have a view or theory of the u
niverse which is of a prosaic character, because the independence has the form o
f what is a thing, of forces, faculties of the mind, &c., and consequently its f
orm is abstract. The thought is not Eeason here, but Understanding, and is prese
nt in that form. But when we so regard the world, what we have is the reflection
of understanding, which appears much later, and cannot as yet exist here. Not u
ntil prose, not until thinking, has permeated all relations, so that man everywh
ere assumes the attitude of one who thinks abstractly, does he speak of external
things. The thinking in question here is, on the contrary, this Substance only
; it is merely this self-containedness or being at home with self ; it is not as
yet brought into exercise, not applied thought, and has not as yet permeated th
e entire man. The special Powers, which are partly objects, such as the sun, mou
ntains, rivers, or else are more abstract ideas, such as origination, decay, cha
nge, assumption of form, and the like, are not as yet taken up into Spirit, are
not as yet truly posited as ideal, and yet at the same time, too, are not as yet
intelligently distinguished by the understanding from Spirit, and pure Being is
still concentrated in that undeveloped state of Substance which is not as yet s
piritual Substance.
Now we do not only say things " are" but we add in the second place that they st
and in manifold relation to one another ; they have causal connection, they are
dependent on one another : this second moment of the action of understanding can
not be present here. It is the understanding only as pure self-identity, or as a
selfconsistent process, which conceives of objects under these categories. " Si
nce the one is, therefore the other is," is its way of speaking; and without onc
e turning back, ic carries ihis chain of connection continuously on into the bad
or false infinite. Thus the independence we are speaking of has not this form.
The form of independence which is present here is no other than the form of that
which is the form of concrete self-consciousness itself, and this first mode is
therefore the human or animal mode. At this stage there is a filling-up ; the c
oncrete makes its appearance as existent, as something which is actually perceiv
ed, no longer as Power. In this last the Concrete is posited as merely negative,
as in subjection to the Power ; it is only the practical element which is objec
tive in the Power, not the theoretical. Here, on the contrary, the theoretical e
lement is set free.
Spirit, as being theoretical, has a double aspect. It relates itself as within i
tself to itself, and it relates itself to the Things, which " things " are for i
t universal independence. Thus for Spirit the things themselves break up into th
eir immediate external varied form on the one hand, and into their free independ
ently existing Essence on the other. Since this is not as yet a Thing, nor repre
sents, in fact, the categories of the Understanding, and is not abstract indepen
dence produced by thought, it is the free independence of ordinary conception ;
and this is the idea formed of man, or at least of what has life, which conseque
ntly may be, in a general sense, called the Objectivity of Imagination. In order
to conceive of the sun, the sky, a tree as existing, as self-sustained, it is o
nly necessary for us to have a sensuous picture or image of it, to which nothing
which appears heterogeneous has to be added in order that it may be thus presen
ted to us as self-sustained or independent. But show or semblance is a deception
. The image, when represented to us as independent, as having Being, and when re
garded by us as such, has for us just the character of Being, of a force, of a c
ausality, of a form of activity, of a soul ; it is in these categories that it h
as its independence. But in so far as the independence has not as yet advanced t
o the prose of Understanding, for which the category of force or of cause is the
characteristic quality of objectivity generally, the apprehension and expressio
n of that independence is this poetry, which makes the idea of human nature and
outward form the supporting basis and Essence of the external world, or, it may
be, even animal form, or the human form in combination with the animal. This poe
try is, in fact, the rational element in imagination, for this rational element
is to be kept firm hold of, although consciousness, as before stated, has not ye
t advanced to the category, and thus the element of independence is to be taken
out of the world which is around us, and, in fact, in direct contrast to what is
not independent, to what is conceived as external. And here it is animal and hu
man existence alone which is the form, mode, and nature of what is free among th
ings. The sun, the sea, a tree, and the like, are, as a matter of fact, without
independence as compared with what lives and is free ; and it is these forms of
independence which in this element of independent existence constitute the suppo
rts of the category for any content at all. A subjective soul is thus given to M
atter, which, however, is not a category, but is concrete Spirituality and Life.

The immediate result is that as soon as objects generally and universal thought-
determinations have this free independence, that connection of things in the wor
ld which is the work of understanding is dissolved; it is the categories of the
relations of necessity, or the dependence of things upon one another in accordan
ce with their quality, their essential definite character, which form this conne
ction ; all these categories, however, are absent, and thus nature, with nothing
to support or give it stability, reels at the mercy of imagination. There may b
e any sort of unregulated fancy, any kind of chance occurrence and result ; the
movement in connection with any condition of things is not bound and limited by
anything whatever; the whole splendour of nature and of imagination is available
as a means of decorating the content, and the caprice of imagination has absolu
tely unbounded scope, and can follow whatever direction it pleases.
Passion in its natural untrained state possesses but few interests, and that in
which it has an interest it negates, while on the other hand it pays no attentio
n to whatever is void of interest. From this standpoint of imagination, however,
all distinctions are taken special notice of and firmly clung to, and everythin
g whicli has an interest for imagination becomes free, independent, and is exalt
ed to the rank of fundamental thought.
But it is likewise owing to this very imagined independence itself that converse
ly the peculiar position of the content and of the definite outward forms disapp
ears; for since they have a definite finite content, they would properly have th
eir objective support, their return and abiding renewal, only in that connection
of the understanding which has vanished, and by means of which their independen
ce, instead of being a reality, becomes rather a complete contingency. The pheno
menal world, the world of appearance, is therefore drawn into the service of ima
gination. The divine world is a realm of imagination, which becomes all the more
infinite and manifold as it has its home in a region where Nature is exuberant
; and this principle of passionless imagination, of a fancy built on a theoretic
al foundation, has enriched the character of the mind and its emotions, emotions
which in this gently hatching warmth are permeated in a pre-eminent degree by a
strain of voluptuous and sweet loveliness, but at the same time of feeble softn
ess.
The objective content, too, is not apprehended here in the form of Beauty : thos
e powers, whether general natural objects or the forces of individual feeling, a
s, for example, love, are not as yet embodied in forms of beauty. To beauty of f
orm belongs free subjectivity, which in the sensuous world and in concrete exist
ence is both free and knows itself to be so.
For the Beautiful is essentially the Spiritual making itself known sensuously, p
resenting itself in sensuous concrete existence, but in such a manner that that
existence is wholly and entirely permeated by the Spiritual, so that the sensuou
s is not independent, but has its meaning solely and exclusively in the Spiritua
l and through the Spiritual, and exhibits not itself, but the Spiritual.
Such is true beauty. In living human beings there are many external influences w
hich check pure idealisation, this subsumption of the bodily sensuous element un
der the Spiritual.
Here this condition does not as yet exist, and for this reason, that the Spiritu
al is as yet only present in this abstract shape of Substantiality. It is, indee
d, unfolded into these particular forms, into special Powers, but the substantia
lity still exists for itself; it has not pernieated and overcome these its parti
cular shapes, this sensuous concrete existence.
Substance is, so to speak, an universal space which has not as yet organised, id
ealised, and brought under it that with which it is filled up the particularisat
ion which issued from it.
For this reason, too, the form of beauty cannot be created here, because the con
tent these particularisations of Substance is not as yet the true content of Spi
rit.
Since, then, the limited content is the foundation, and is known as spiritual, t
he subject this definite spiritual agent becomes, owing to this, an empty form.
In the Religion of Beauty, the Spiritual, as such, constitutes the foundation, s
o that the content, too, is the spiritual content. In that religion, statues or
pictures, as sensuous A matter, are merely the expression of the Spiritual. Here
, however, the content is not of a spiritual kind.
Thus, the art we find here is symbolical art, which does indeed express essentia
l characteristics, but not characteristics of the Spiritual. Hence the uubeautif
ul, the mad, the fantastic character of the art which makes its appearance here.
The symbolism is not the purely Beautiful, just because a content other than sp
iritual individuality is the basis. Free subjectivity is not the permeating elem
ent, and is not essentially expressed by the form. In this phantasy there is not
hing fixed, nothing moulds itself into forms of the beauty which is given only b
y the consciousness of freedom. Speaking generally, what we have here is complet
e dissolution of form, the restless movement, the manifestation of the self-impo
rtance of the individual. Devoid of anything to give it stability, the inner ele
ment passes over into external existence, and the unfolding of the Absolute a pr
ocess which outdoes itself in this world of imagination is merely an endless bre
aking-up of the One into the Many, and an unstable reeling to and fro of all con
tent. It is the s} T stem of universal fundamental determinations, the system de
termined in and for itself through the Notion, as that of the absolute sovereign
powers to which everything returns, and which permeate everything through and t
hrough, which alone brings thorough stability into this region of caprice, confu
sion, and feebleness, into this measureless splendour and enervation. And it is
the study of this system which is of the most essential moment. On the one hand,
we have to recognise the presence of these determinations through the perverted
sensuous form of the capricious, externally determined embodiment, and to do ju
stice to the essential element which lies at their foundation ; and on the other
hand, we have to observe the degradation which they xmdergo. This degradation i
s partly owing to the mode in which the indifference of those determinations tow
ard one another appears, partly owing to the presence of arbitrary human and ext
ernally local sense experience, through which they are transposed into the spher
e of the every-day life, where all passions, local features features of individu
al recollection are joined on to them. There is no act of judgment, no feeling o
f shame, nothing of the higher mutual fitness of form and of content ; the every
-day existence as such is not made to vanish, and is not developed into beauty.
The inequality or disproportion of form and content consist?, more strictly spea
king, in this that the fundamental determinations aie debased, inasmuch as they
acquire the semblance of being similar to the disconnected facts of existence, a
nd that conversely the external sensuous representation becomes depraved by mean
s of its form. From what has now been stated it will be already clear that these
determinations of the divine Essence have their existence in the Indian religio
n. We have here to look away from its vast and characteristically endless mythol
ogy and mythological forms, in order to keep to the principal fundamental determ
inations alone,
which are on the one hand baroque and wild, and are horrible, repulsive, loathso
me distortions, but at the same time prove themselves to have the Notion for the
ir inner source; while in virtue. of the development which it gets in this theor
etical region, they recall the highest element of the Idea. At the same time, ho
wever, they express that definite stuntedness under which the Idea suffers when
these fundamental determinations are not brought back again into their spiritual
nature.
What constitutes the principal point of interest in this religion of India is th
e development or explication of form in contrast with an abstract monotheistic r
eligion, and so too with the Greek religion that is to say, in contrast with a r
eligion which has spiritual individuality as its principle.
(b.) The general idea of the objective content of this stage.
What is the first in the Notion, what is true, the universal substantial element
, is the eternal repose of Beingwithin-itself ; this Essence existing within its
elf, which universal Substance is. This simple Substance, which the Hindus call
Brahma, is regarded as the Universal, the self-existing Power; which is not, lik
e passion, turned toward what is other than itself, but is the quiet, lustreless
reflection into itself, which is, however, at the same time determined as Power
. This abidingly selfenclosed Power in the form of Universality must be distingu
ished from its operation, from that which is posited by means of it, and from it
s own moments. Power is the Ideal, the Negative, for which all else exists merel
y as abrogated, as negated. But the Power, as that which exists within itself, a
s universal Power, distinguishes itself from its moments themselves, and these t
herefore appear on the one hand as independent beings, and on the other as momen
ts which even perish in the One. They belong to it, they are merely moments of i
t, but as differentiated moments they come forward into independent existence, a
nd present themselves as independent Persons Persons of the Godhead who are God,
who are the Whole itself, so that that primary element vanishes in this particu
lar shape or form, but on the other hand they again vanish in the one Power. The
alternations according to which we have now the One, now the distinction as ent
ire totality are the perplexing inconsistencies which present themselves in this
sphere to the logical understanding, but they are at the same time that consist
ency of reason which is in accordance with the Notion, as contrasted with the co
nsistency of the abstract self-identical understanding.
Subjectivity is Power in itself, as the relation of infinite negativity to itsel
f ; it is not, however, only potentially power, but rather it is with the appear
ance of subjectivity that God is for the first time posited as Power. These dete
rminations are indeed to be distinguished from one another, and stand in relatio
n to the subsequent conceptions of God, and are also of primary importance to th
e understanding of the preceding ones. They are therefore to be considered more
closely.
Power, in fact, at once in religion in the general sense, and in the wholly imme
diate and crudest religion of nature, is the fundamental determination, as being
the infinitude which the finite as abrogated posits within itself. And in so fa
r as this is conceived of as outside of it, as existing at all, it nevertheless
comes to be posited merely as something which has proceeded out of that finite a
s its basis. Now the determination which is allimportant here is, that this Powe
r is, to begin with, posited simply as the basis of the particular shapes or exi
sting forms, and the relation to the basis of the inherently existing Essence is
the relation of Substantiality. Thus it is merely power potentially power as th
e inner element of the existence ; and as Essence which has Being within itself
or as Substance, it is only posited as the Simple and Abstract, so that the dete
rminations or differentiations as forms existing in their own right are conceive
d of as outside of it. This Essence, which exists within itself, may indeed be c
onceived of too as existing for itself, as Brahma is self-thinking. Brahma is th
e universal Soul ; when he creates, he himself issues as a breath out of himself
; he contemplates himself, and exists then for himself.
But his abstract simplicity does not at once vanish owing to this, for the momen
ts, the universality of Brahma as such, and the "/" for which that universality
exists, these two are not determined as contrasted with one another, and their r
elation is therefore itself simple. Brahma exists thus as abstractly existing fo
r himself. The Power and the basis of existences and all things have, in fact, p
roceeded out of him and vanished in him. In saying to himself, " I am Brahma," a
ll things have vanished back into him, have vanished in him. Whether as outside
of him, existing independently, or within him, they have vanished ; there is onl
y the relation of these two extremes. But posited as differentiated determinatio
ns, they appear as independent existences outside of him, since he is primarily
abstract, and not concrete in himself.
The Power posited in this manner potentially only works inwardly without showing
itself as activity. I manifest myself as power in so far as I am cause and dete
rmine, in so far as I am a subject, when I throw a stone, and so forth. But this
potentially existing Power works in a universal manner, without this universali
ty being a subject for itself, a self-conscious subject. These universal modes o
f working, understood in their true character, are, for instance, the Laws of Na
ture.
Now Brahma, as the one, simple, absolute Substance, is the neuter, or, as we say
, the Godhead: Brahma expresses this universal Essence more as a Person, as a su
bject. But this is a distinction which is not constantly made use of, and in the
different grammatical cases this distinction already spontaneously effaces itse
lf, for the masculine and neuter genders have many cases which are similar. In a
nother respect, too, no great emphasis is to be laid upon this distinction, beca
use Brahma as personified' is merely superficially personified in such a manner
that the content still remains this simple substance.
And now distinctions appear in this simple Substance, and it is worth noting tha
t these distinctions present themselves in such a way that they are determined i
n accordance with the instinct of the Notion. The First is totality generally as
One, taken quite abstractly ; the Second is determinateness, differentiation ge
nerally ; and the Third, in accordance with the true determination, is that the
differences are led back again into unity, into concrete unity.
Conceived of in accordance with its abstract form, this Trinity of the Absolute
is, when it is formless, merely Brahma, that is, empty Essence. From the point o
f view of its determinations it is a Three, but in a unity only, so that this th
reeness is merely a unity.
If we define this more accurately and speak of it under another form, the Second
means that differentiations, different Powers exist : the differentiation, howe
ver, has no rights as against the one Substance, the absolute unity ; and in so
far as it has no rights it may be called eternal goodness, implying that what ha
s determinate character, this manifestation of the Divine, should indeed exist ;
that differentiation too should attain to this, that it is. This is the goodnes
s through which what is posited by the Power as a semblance or show of Being acq
uires momentary Being. In the Power it is absorbed, yet goodness permits it to e
xist independently.
Upon this Second follows the Third that is, righteousness, implying that the exi
sting determinate element is not, that the finite attains to its end, its destin
y, its right, which is to be changed, to be transformed, in fact, into another d
eterminateness ; this is righteousness in the general sense. To this, in an abst
ract way, belong becoming, perishing, originating : for Not-being too has no rig
ht ; it is an abstract determination in contrast to Being, and is itself the pas
sing over into unity.
This totality, which is the unity, a Whole, is what is called among the Indians
Tri murti murti = form or shape all emanations of the Absolute being called murt
i. It is this Highest, differentiated within itself in such a manner that it has
these three determinations within itself.
The most striking and the greatest feature in Indian mythology is unquestionably
this Trinity in unity. We cannot call this Trinity Persons, for it is wanting i
n spiritual subjectivity as a fundamental determination. But to Europeans it mus
t have been in the highest degree astonishing to meet with this principle of the
Christian religion here : we shall become acquainted with it in its true form l
ater on, and shall see that Spirit as concrete must necessarily be conceived of
as triune.
The First, then, the One, the One Substance, is what is called Brahma. Parabrahm
a, which is above Brahma, also makes its appearance ; and these are jumbled toge
ther. Of Brahma, in so far as he is a subject, all kinds of stories are related.
Thought, reflection, at once goes beyond such a determination as Brahma, since
one having such a definite character is conceived of as One of these Three, make
s itself a Higher, which gives itself a definite character in the distinction. I
n so far as that which is absolute Substance again appears as merely One alongsi
de of others, Parabrahma is expressive of the need of thought to have something
yet higher ; and it is impossible to say in what definite relation forms of this
kind stand to one another.
Brahma is thus what is conceived of as this Substance out of which everything ha
s proceeded and is begotten, as this Power which has created All. But while the
one Substance the One is thus the abstract Power, it at the same time appears as
the inert element, as formless, inert matter ; here we have specially the formi
ng activity, as we should express it.
The one Substance, because it is only the One, is the Formless : thus this, too,
is a mode in which it becomes apparent that substantiality does not satisfy ; t
hat is to say, it fails to do so because form is not present.
Thus Brahma, the one self-identical Essence, appears as the Inert, as that which
indeed begets, but which at the same time maintains a passive attitude like wom
an, as it were. Krischna therefore says of Brahma, " Brahma is my uterus, the me
re recipient in which I lay my seed, and out of which I beget All." In the deter
mination, too, " God is Essence," there is not the principle of movement, of pro
duction ; there is no activity.
Out of Brahma issues everything, gods, the world, mankind ; but it at once becom
es apparent that this One is inactive. In the various cosmogonies or description
s of the creation of the world, what has just been thus indicated makes its appe
arance.
Such a description of the creation of the world occurs in the Vedas. In these Br
ahma is represented as being thus alone in solitude, and as existing wholly for
himself, and a Being which is represented as a higher one then says to him that
he ought to expand and to beget himself. But Brahma, it is added, had not during
a thousand years been in a condition to conceive of his expansion, and had retu
rned again into himself.
Here Brahma is represented as world-creating, but, owing to the fact that he is
the One, as inactive, as one who is summoned by another higher than himself, and
is formless. Tims the need of another is directly present. To speak generally,
Brahma is this one absolute Substance.
Power as this simple activity is Thought. In the Indian religion this characteri
stic is the most prominent one of all ; it is the absolute basis and is the One
Brahma. This form is in accordance with the logical development. First came the
multiplicity of determinations, and the advance consists in the resumption of de
termination into unity. That is the basis. What now remains to be given is partl
y something of a merely historical character, but partly, too, the necessary dev
elopment which follows from that principle.
Simple Power, as the active element, created the world. The creating is essentia
lly an attitude of thought towards itself, an activity relating itself to itself
, and in no sense a finite activity. This, too, is expressed in the ideas of the
Indian religion. The Hindus have a great number of cosmogonies which are all mo
re or less barbarous, and out of which nothing of a fixed character can be deriv
ed. What we have is not one idea of the creation of the world, as in the Jewish
and Christian religion. In the Code of Manu, in the Vedas and Puranas, the cosmo
gonies are constantly understood and presented differently. Notwithstanding this
, there is always one feature essentially present in them, namely, that this Tho
ught, which is at home with itself or self-contained, is the begetting of itself
.
This infinitely profound and true trait constantly reappears in the various desc
riptions of the creation of the world. The Code of Manu begins thus : " The Eter
nal with one thought created water," and so on. We also find that this pure acti
vity is called " the Word," as God is in the New Testament. With the Jews of lat
er times Philo, for example cro</a is the " First-created," which proceeds out o
f the One. The " Word " is held in very high esteem among the Hindus. It is the
figure of pure activity, definite existence of an externally physical character,
which, however, does not permanently remain, but is only ideal, and immediately
vanishes in its external form. The Eternal created the water, it is stated, and
deposited fruit-bringing seed in it; this seed became a resplendent egg, and th
erein the Eternal itself was born again as Brahma. Brahma is the progenitor of a
ll spirits, of the existent and non-existent. In this egg, it is said, the great
Power remained inactive for a year ; at the end of that time it divided the egg
by means of thought, and created one part masculine and the other feminine. The
masculine energy is itself begotten, and becomes again begetting and active, on
ly when it has practised severe meditation, that is to say, when it has attained
to the concentration of abstraction. Thought is therefore what brings forth and
what is brought forth; it is the briuger forth itself, namely, the unity of thi
nking with itself. The return of thinking to itself is found in other descriptio
ns besides. In one of the Vedas, some passages out of which Colebrooke was the f
irst to translate, a similar description of the first act of creation is to be f
ound : " There was neither Being nor nothing, neither above nor below, neither d
eath nor immortality, but only the One enshrouded and dark. Outside of this One
existed nothing, and this brooded in solitude with itself; through the energy of
contemplation it brought forth a world out of itself; in thinking, desire, impu
lse first formed itself, and this was the original seed of all things."
Here likewise Thought in its self-enclosed activity is presented to us. But Thou
ght becomes further known as Thought in the self-conscious Essence in man, who r
epresents its actual existence. The Hindus might be charged with having attribut
ed to the One a contingent existence, since it is left to chance whether or not
the individual raises itself to the abstract Universal to abstract selfconscious
ness. But, on the other hand, the caste of the Brahmans is an immediate represen
tation of the presence of Brahma ; it is the duty of that caste to read the Veda
s, to withdraw itself into itself. The reading of Vedas is the Divine, indeed Go
d Himself, and so too is prayer. The Vedas may even be read unintelligently and
in complete stupefaction ; this stupefaction itself is the abstract unity of tho
ught ; the " I," the pure contemplation of it is perfect emptiness. Thus it is i
n the Brahmans that Brahma exists ; by the reading of the Vedas Brahma is, and h
uman self-consciousness in the state of abstraction is Brahma itself.
The characteristics of Brahma which have been indicated seem to have so many poi
nts of correspondence with the God of other religions with the true God Himself
that it appears to be of some importance to point out, on the one hand, the diff
erence which exists, and on the other, to indicate for what reason the logical d
etermination of subjective existence in self-consciousness which marks the India
n pure Essence has no place among these other ideas. The Jewish God is, for exam
ple, the same One, immaterial Substantiality and Power which exists for thought
only ; He is Himself objective thought, and is also not as yet that inherently c
oncrete One which He is as Spirit. But the Indian supreme God is merely the One
in a neuter sense, rather than the One Person ; He has merely potential being, a
nd is not self-conscious ; He is Brahma the Neutrum, or the Universal determinat
ion. Brahma as subject, on the other hand, is at once one among the three Person
s, if we may so designate them, which in truth is not possible since spiritual s
ubjectivity as an essential fundamental determination is wanting to them. It is
not enough that the Trimurti proceeds out of that primal One, and also returns b
ack again into that One ; all that is implied in this is that it is represented
merely as Substance, not as Subject. The Jewish God, on the contrary, is the One
exclusively, who has no other gods beside Him. It is because of this that He is
determined not only as Potentiality, but also as what alone has Actual Being, a
s the absolutely consuming or absorbing element, as a Subject having infinitude
within itself, which is indeed still abstract and posited in an undeveloped mann
er, but which is nevertheless true infinitude. His goodness and His righteousnes
s remain so far also merely attributes ; or, as the Hebrews frequently express i
t, they are His names, which do not become special forms or shapes, although too
they do not become the content through which the Christian Unity of God is alon
e the spiritual one. For this reason the Jewish God cannot acquire the determina
tion of a subjective existence in self-consciousness, because He is rather a sub
ject in Himself. To reach subjectivity He does not therefore require an Other in
which He should for the first time acquire this determination, but which, becau
se of its being in an Other, would have a merely subjective existence also.
On the other hand, what the Hindu says in and to himself " I am Brahina " must b
e recognised, in its essential character, as identical with the modern subjectiv
e and objective " vanity " with that which the " I " is made into by means of th
e oft-repeated assertion that we know nothing of God. For the statement that " I
" has no affirmative relation to God, that He is a " Beyond " for the " I," a n
ullity without any content, at once implies that the mere independent " I " is t
he affirmative for " I." It is of no use to say, " I recognise God as above me,
as outside of me ; " God is an idea without content, whose sole characteristic,
all that is to be recognised or known of it, all which it is to be for me, is wh
olly and entirely limited to this that this absolutely indeterminate Being is, a
nd that it is the negative of myself. In the Indian, " I am Brahma," it is not,
indeed, posited as the negative of myself, as being in opposition to me. But tha
t apparently affirmative determination of God that He is is partly in itself mer
ely the perfectly empty abstraction of Being, and therefore a subjective determi
nation only, a determination which has an existence in my self-consciousness onl
y, and which therefore attaches to Brahma also, and partly in so far as it still
is to get an objective meaning, it would already be and not in concrete determi
nations only, as, for instance, that God is a subject iii and for Himself someth
ing which is known of God, a category of Him, and thus would be already too much
. Being, consequently, reduces itself by its own act to the mere " something out
side of me," and it is intended expressly, too, to signify the negative of mysel
f, in which negation nothing in fact remains to me but I myself. It is thrashing
empty straw to attempt to pass off that negative of myself, that something outs
ide of me or above me, for an alleged, or at least a supposed, recognised object
ivity, for to do so is merely to pronounce a negative, and to do this, in fact,
expressly through myself. But neither this abstract negation, nor the quality th
at it is posited through me, and that I know this negation, and know it as negat
ion only, is an objectivity ; nor is it an objectivity, so far, at least, as the
form is concerned, even although it is not an objectivity so far as the content
is concerned ; for the truth rather is, that is just the empty form of objectiv
ity without content, an empty form and merely subjective supposition. Formerly t
hat which could be described as merely the negative, was called in the Christian
world the Devil. Consequently nothing affirmative remains save this subjectivel
y-supposing "I." With a one-sided dialectic it has, by a process of evaporation,
sceptically rid itself of all the content of the sensuous and super-sensuous wo
rld, and given to it the character of something that is negative for it. All obj
ectivity having become for it vain and empty, what is present is this positive v
anity itself it is that objective "I" which alone is Power and Essence, in which
everything has vanished away, into which all content whatever has sunk as finit
e, so that the " I " is the Universal, the master of all determinations, and the
exclusive, affirmative point. The Indian " I am Brahma," and that so-called rel
igion, the " I " of the modern faith of reflection, differ from one another in t
heir external relations only ; the former expresses the primitive apprehension o
f the mind in its naive form, in which the pure substantiality of its thought co
mes into existence for self-consciousness, so that it allows all other content w
hatever to exist beside it, and recognises it as objective truth. In contrast to
this, that faith of reflection, which denies all objectivity to truth, holds fa
st to that solitude of subjectivity alone, and recognises it alone. In this full
y developed reflection the divine world, like all other content, is merely somet
hing posited by me.
This first relation of the Hindu to Brahma is set down only in the one single pr
ayer, and since it is itself the existence of Brahma, the momentary character of
ihis existence at once shows itself to be inadequate to the content, and conseq
uently a demand arises that this existence itself should be rendered universal a
nd lasting like its content. For it is only the momentary time element which app
ears as the most obvious defect in ihat existence, it being that alone which sta
nds in relation with that abstract Universality, compares itself with it, and sh
ows itself to be inadequate to it ; for in other respects its subjective existen
ce the abstract " I " is equal or commensurate with it. But to exalt that merely
single look into a permanent seeing means nothing else than to stop the transit
ion from the moment of this quiet solitude into the full present reality of life
, of its needs, interests, and occupations, and to preserve oneself continuously
in that motionless abstract self-consciousness. This is what, in fact, many Hin
dus who are not Brahmans (of whom later on) virtually accomplish. They ^ give th
emselves up with the most persevering callousness ' to the monotony of an inacti
vity extending over years, and especially to an inactivity of ten years' duratio
n, in which they renounce all the interests and occupationsof ordinary life, and
combine with this renunciation the constraint arising from some unnatural attit
ude or position of the body, as, for example, sitting even on, going JL? with th
e hands clasped over the head, or else standing, and never even in sleep lying d
own, and the like. We now come to the Second in the triad, Krishna or Vishnu ; t
hat is, the incarnation of Brahma generally. Many and various are the incarnatio
ns of this kind which are reckoned up by the Hindus. The general meaning here is
that Brahma appears as man : it cannot, nevertheless, be said that it is Brahma
who appears as man, for this assumption of humanity is not actually held to be
the pure form of Brahma.
Monstrous poetical fictions make their appearance in this region: Krishna is als
o Brahma, Vishnu. These popular conceptions of incarnations appear partly to hav
e in them echoes of what is historical, and point to the fact that great conquer
ors who gave a new shape to the condition of things are the gods, and are thus d
escribed as gods. The deeds of Krishna are conquests in connection with which th
e course of events was sufficiently ungodlike ; indeed, conquest and amours are
the two aspects, the most important acts of the incarnations.
The Third is Siva, Mahadeva, the great god, or Rudra : this ought to be the retu
rn into self. The First, namely, Brahma, is the most distant unity, the self-enc
losed unity ; the Second, Vishnu, is manifestation (the moments of Spirit are th
us far not to be mistaken), is life in human form. The Third should be the retur
n to the First, in order that the unity might appear as returning into itself. B
ut it is just this Third which is what is devoid of Spirit ; it is the determina
tion of Becoming generally, or of coming into being and passing away. It has bee
n stated that change in the general sense is the Third ; thus the fundamental ch
aracteristic of Siva is on the one hand the prodigious life-force, on the other
what destroys, devastates ; the wild energy of natural life. Its principal symbo
l is therefore the Ox, on account of its strength, but the most universal repres
entation is the Lingam, which was reverenced among the Greeks as (^ctXAof, and i
t is this sign which is to be found in most of the temples. The innermost sanctu
ary contains it. Such are the three fundamental determinations : the whole is re
presented by a figure with three heads, which again is symbolical and wholly wit
hout beauty.
The true Third, according to the deeper conception, is Spirit. It is the return
of the One to itself; it is its coming to itself. It is not merely change, but i
s the change in which the difference is brought to reconciliation with the First
, in which the duality is annulled.
But in this religion, which still belongs to nature, the Becoming is conceived o
f as mere becoming, as mere change ; not as a change of the difference by means
of which the unity produces itself as an annulling of differentiation and the ta
king of it up into unity. Consciousness, Spirit, is also a change in the First,
that is, in the immediate unity. The Other is the act of judgment or differentia
tion, the having an Other over against one I exist as knowing but in such a mann
er that while the Other is for me, I have returned in that Other to myself, into
myself.
The Third, instead of being the reconciler, is here merely this wild play of beg
etting and destroying. Thus the development issues only in a wild whirl of delir
ium. This difference, viz., the Third, is essentially based upon the standpoint
of natural religion and based upon it in its entirety.
These differentiations are now grasped as Unity as, Trimurti and this again is c
onceived of as the Highest. But just as this is conceived of as Trimurti, each p
erson too in turn is taken independently and alone, so that each is itself total
ity, that is, the whole deity.
In the older part of the Vedas it is not Vishnu, and still less Siva, that is sp
oken of; there Brahma, the One, is alone God.
Not only is this principal basis and fundamental determination in the Indian myt
hology thus personified, but all else too is superficially personified by means
of imagination. Imposing natural objects, such as the Ganges, the Sun, the Himal
aya (which is the special dwelling-place of Siva), become identified with Brahma
himself. So too with love, deceit, theft, avarice, as well as the sensuous powe
rs of nature in plants and animals, so that Substance has the form, of animals a
nd the like. All these are conceived of by imagination as free and independent,
and thus there arises an infinite world of Deities of particular powers and phen
omena, which is notwithstanding known as subordinated to something above it. At
the head of this world stands Indra, the god of the visible heavens. These gods
are mutable and perishable, and are in subjection to the Supreme One ; abstracti
on absorbs them : the power which man acquires by means of these gods strikes th
em with terror ; indeed, Yismavitra even creates another Indra and other gods !
Thus these particular spiritual and natural Powers, which are regarded as deitie
s, are at one time independent, and at another are regarded as vanishing, it bei
ng their nature to be submerged in the absolute unity, in Substance, and to spri
ng into existence again out of it.
Thus the Hindus say there have already been many thousand Indras, and there will
yet b more ; in the same way the incarnations, too, are held to be transient. T
he substantial unity does not become concrete because the particular Powers retu
rn into it, but, on the contrary, it remains abstract unity ; and it also does n
ot become concrete although these determinate existences proceed out of it ; rat
her they are phenomena with the characteristic of independence, and are posited
outside of that unity.
To form an estimate of the number and value of these deities is wholly out of th
e question here ; there is nothing which takes a fixed shape, since all definite
form is wanting to this fantastic imagination. These shapes disappear again in
the same manner in which they are begotten ; fancy passes over from an ordinary
external mode of existence to divinity, and this in like manner returns back aga
in to that which was its starting-point. It is impossible to speak of miracles h
ere, for all is miracle ; everything is dislocated, and nothing determined by me
ans of a rational connection of the categories of thought. Undoubtedly a great d
eal is symbolical.
The Hindus are, moreover, divided into many sects. Among many other differences,
the principal one is this, that some worship Vishnu and others Siva. This is of
ten the occasion of bloody wars; at festivals and fairs especially, disputes ari
se which cost thousands their lives.
Now these distinctions are in a general sense to be understood as meaning that w
hat is called Vishnu even says again regarding itself that it is All, that Brahm
a is the womb in which it begets All, and that it is the absolute activity of fo
rm, that indeed it is Brahma. Here this differentiation represented by Vishnu is
removed and absorbed.
If it is Siva who is introduced as speaking, then it is he who is absolute total
ity ; he is the lustre of precious stones, the energy in man, the reason in the
soul in fact, he too in turn is Brahma. Here all the Powers, even the two other
differences, as well as the other Powers, gods of nature and genii, melt into On
e Person, into one of these differentiations.
The fundamental determination of the theoretical consciousness is therefore the
determination of unity, the determination of that which is called Brahma, Brahma
, and the like. This unity, however, comes to have an ambiguous meaning, inasmuc
h as Brahma is at one time the Universal, the All, and at another a particularit
y as contrasted with particularity in general. Thus Brahma appears as creator, a
nd then again as subordinate to something else, and he even speaks of something
higher than himself of a universal soul. The confusion which characterises this
sphere originates in the dialectic necessarily belonging to it Spirit, which put
s everything in organic connection, is not present here, and therefore if the de
terminations never make their appearance at all in the form adequate to Spirit,
they have to be abrogated as one-sided, and then a fresh form makes its appearan
ce. The necessity of the Notion manifests itself merely as deviation, as confusi
on, as something which has nothing within itself to give it stability, and it is
to the nature of the Notion that this confusion owes its origin.
The One shows itself as fixed or established in its own right, as that which is
in everlasting unity witli itself. But since this One must advance to particular
isation, which, however, remains devoid of Spirit here, all differentiations are
called and are in turn Brahma, are this One within itself, and thus also approp
riate the epithet of the One, and so the particular deities are all Brahma likew
ise. An Englishman who, by a most careful investigation into the various represe
ntations, has sought to discover what is meant by Brahma, believes that Brahma i
s an epithet of praise, and is used as such just because he is not looked on as
being himself solely this One, but, on the contrary, everything says of itself t
hat it is Brahma. I refer to what Mill says in his History of India. He proves f
rom many Indian writings that it is an epithet of praise which is applied to var
ious deities, and does not represent the conception of perfection or nnity which
we associate with it. This is a mistake, for Brahma is in one aspect the One, t
he Immutable, who has, however, the element of change in him, and because of thi
s, the rich variety of forms which is thus essentially his own is also predicate
d of him. Vishnu is also called the Supreme Brahma. Water and the sun are Brahma
. Special prominence is given to the sun in the Vedas, and if we were to reckon
up the prayers addressed to it, we might suppose that the ancient inhabitants of
India found Brahma in the Su s\ e^We_J and that they had thus a different relig
ion from that of their descendants. The air, too, the movement of the atmosphere
, breath, understanding, happiness are called Brahma. Mahadeva calls himself Bra
hma, and Sfva says of himself, " I am what is and what is not ; I have been ever
ything ; I am always and shall always be ; I am Brahma and likewise Brahma ; I a
m the cause which causes, I am the truth, the ox, and all living things ; I am o
lder than all ; I am the past, the present, and the future ; I am Eudra, I am al
l worlds," &c.
Thus Brahma is the One, and is also everything independently which is conceived
of as God. Among other prayers, we find one addressed to speech, in which it say
s of itself, " I am Brahma," the universal supreme soul. Brahma is thus this One
, which, however, is not exclusively held fast to as this One. He is not such a
Being as we have in our minds when we speak of one God; this One God is universa
l unity; here everything which is independent, which is identical with itself sa
ys, " I am Brahma."
By way of conclusion, another description may be given here, in which all the mo
ments which we have hitherto considered in their divided state and dialectic are
expressed unitedly.
Colonel Dow translated a history of India from the Persian, and in an accompanyi
ng dissertation he gives a translation from the Vedas, and in it there is a desc
ription of the creation of the world.
Brima existed from all eternity in the form of immeasurable expansion ; when it
pleased him to create the world he said, " Rise up, Brima ! " What was first had
thus been desire, appetite. He says this to himself. Immediately thereupon a sp
irit of flames of fire, having four heads and four hands, issued from h s navel.
Brima looked around and saw nothing but his own immeasurable image. He journeye
d a thousand years in order to attain a) (c^o^leM^^ ^ his expansion and to under
stand it. This fire again is Brima himself, and he has himself alone for his obj
ect as immeasurable. Now Brima, after the journey of a thousand years, knew as l
ittle about his expansion as he did before. Sunk in wonderment, he gave up his j
ourneyings and considered what he had seen. The Almighty, who is something diffe
rent from Brima, had then said to him, " Go, Brima, and create the world ; thou
canst not understand thyself ; make something understandable." Brima had asked,
" How shall I create a world ? " The Almighty had answered, " Ask me and power s
hall be given thee." Tire had now issued out of Brima, and he had seen the Idea
of all things, whicli hovered before his eyes, and had said, " Let all which I s
ee become real, but how shall I preserve the things so that they do not go to de
struction ? " Upon this a spirit of blue colour proceeded out of his mouth ; thi
s again was Brima himself, Vishnu, Krishna, the maintaining principle, and this
he commanded to create all living things, and for their maintenance the vegetabl
e world. Human beings were as yet wanting. Thereupon Brima commanded Vishnu to m
ake mankind. He did this, but the human beings which Vishnu made were idiots wit
h great bellies, without knowledge, like the beasts of the field, without emotio
ns and will, and with sensuous passions only ; at this Brima was wroth and destr
oyed them. He himself now created four persons out of his own breath, and gave t
hem orders to rule over the creatures. But they refused to do anything else than
to praise God, because they had nothing of the quality of mutability or destruc
tibility in them, nothing of the temporal qualities of existence. Brima now beca
me angry. His vexation took the form of a swarthy spirit, which came forth from
between the eyes. This spirit sat down before Brima with crossed legs and folded
arms, and wept, saying, " Who am I, and what is my dwelling-place to be ? '' Br
ima replied, " Thou shalt be Eudra, and all nature thy dwelling-place ; go and m
ake men." He did so. These men were more savage than tigers, since they had noth
ing in them but the destructive quality; they destroyed themselves, for their on
ly emotion was wrath. Thus we see the three gods working separately from one ano
ther ; what they produce is one-sided only and without truth. Finally, Brima, Vi
shnu, and Eudra united their forces, and thus created men, ten of them, in fact.

(c.) Worship.
Subjective religion the comprehension of itself by self-consciousness in relatio
n to its divine worldcorresponds with the character of that world itself.
As in this world the Idea has developed itself to such an extent that its fundam
ental determinations have emerged into prominence though they remain mutually ex
ternal, and as in like manner the empirical world remains external and unintelli
gible relatively to them and to itself, and therefore abandoned to the caprice o
f imagination, consciousness too, although developed in all directions, does not
attain to the conception of itself as true subjectivity. The leading place in t
his sphere is occupied by the pure equality or identity of thought, which at the
same time is inherently existing creative Power. This foundation is, however, p
urely theoretical. It is still the substantiality out of which indeed potentiall
y all proceeds, and in which all is retained, but outside of which all content h
as assumed independence, and is not, so far as regards its determinate existence
and standing, made by means of that unity into an objective and universal conte
nt. Merely theoretical, formal thought supports the content when it thus appears
as accidentally determined ; it can indeed abstract from it, but cannot exalt i
t to the connected unity of a system, and consequently to a connected existence
in accordance with law. Thought, therefore, does not really acquire a practical
signification here ; that is to say, activity and will do not give the character
of universality to its determinations ; and though form develops itself potenti
ally, indeed, in accordance with the nature of the Notion, still it does not app
ear in the character of something posited by the Notion, and does not appear as
held within its unity. The activity of the will, therefore, does not arrive at f
reedom of the will does not arrive at a content which, being determined through
the unity of the Notion, would consequently be rational, objective, and in accor
dance with right. This unity, on the contrary, remains the merely potentially ex
istent substantial Power existing in seclusion, namely, Brahma, which has let go
actuality as mere contingency, and now abandons it entirely to its own wild cap
rice.
Worship here is first of all a certain attitude of the self-consciousness Brahma
, and then afterwards to the rest of the divine world existing outside of him.
I. As regards the first attitude, that towards Brahma, we find that it is specia
lly marked off and peculiar exactly in proportion as it keeps itself isolated fr
om the rest of the concrete, religious, and temporal fulness of life.
i. Brahma is thought, man is a thinking being, thus Brahma has essentially an ex
istence in human self-consciousness. Man, however, is essentially characterised
here as a thinking being, or, in other words, thought as such, and in the first
place as pure theory has universal existence here, because thought itself as suc
h, as inherently Power, is given a determinate character, and consequently has i
n it form generally, namely, abstract form, or the character of determinate Bein
g in general.
Man, indeed, is not only a thinking being, but is here essentially thought ; he
is conscious of himself as pure thought ; for it has just been stated that here
thought as such comes into existence ; here man has the general idea of it withi
n himself. In other words, he is actually self-conscious thought, for thought is
implicitly Power, but Power itself is just that infinite negativity, that negat
ivity relating itself to itself, which is actual Being, Being-for-self. But Bein
gfor-self, enclosed within the universality of thought generally, exalted in it
to free equality with itself, is the soul of a living creature only, not the pow
erful self-consciousness imprisoned within the particularity of desire, but the
self of consciousness, which knows itself in its universality, and which thus as
thinking itself, as forming conceptions within itself, knows itself as Brahma.
Or if we proceed from the determination that Brahma is Essence as abstract unity
, as absorption in self, he has then his existence in the finite subject too, in
the particular Spirit, as this absorption in self. To the Idea of the true ther
e belongs the universal substantial unity and identity with self ; but in such a
way that it is not merely the Undetermined, not merely substantial unity, but i
s determined within itself. Brahma, however, has the determinateness outside of
him. Thus the supreme determinateness of Brahma, namely, consciousness, the know
ing of his real existence, his subjectivity of unity, can only be the subjective
consciousness as such.
This attitude is not to be called worship, for there is here no relation to the
thinking substantiality as to anything objective, but, on the contrary, the rela
tion is immediately known along with the determination of my subjectivity, as "
I myself." In fact, I am this pure thought, and the " I " itself is indeed the v
ery expression of it, for " I " as such is this abstract identity of myself with
in myself as wholly without determination " I " as " I " am merely thought as th
at which is posited with the determination of subjective existence reflected int
o itself I am what thinks. Conversely, therefore, it is conceded, on the other h
and, that thought as this abstract thought has this very subjectivity which " I
" directly expresses as its existence. For the true thought, which God is, is no
t this abstract thought, or this simple substantiality and universality, but is
thought as the concrete, absolutely full or filled up Idea. The thought which is
merely the potential existence of the Idea is just the abstract thought which h
as merely this finite existence, namely, in the subjective self-consciousness, a
nd which has not relatively to the latter the objectivity of concrete being in-a
nd-for-self, and therefore is quite justly not held in reverence by it.
Every Hindu is himself momentarily Brahma. Brahma is this One, the abstraction o
f thought, and to the extent to which a man puts himself into the condition of s
elfconcentration, he is Brahma. Brahma himself is not worshipped ; the One God h
as no temple, has no worship, and no prayer is addressed to him. An Englishman,
the author of a treatise on " Idolworship among the Hindus," makes a number of r
eflections on the subject, and says, if a Hindu were asked whether he worships i
dols, he would answer without the least hesitation, " Yes, I worship idols." If,
on the other hand, we were to ask a Hindu, whether learned or unlearned, " Do y
ou worship the Supreme Being, Paramesvara ? Do you pray to Him ? Do you bring Hi
m offerings ? " he would then say, " Never." If we were to inquire further, " Wh
at is this tranquil devotion, this silent meditation which is enjoined on you an
d which you practise ? " he would then reply, " When I engage in prayer, sit dow
n, cross my legs over one another, fold my hands, and look toward heaven, and co
ncentrate my spirit and my thoughts without speaking, I then say within myself,
' I am Brahma, the Supreme Being.' "
. Since in this first attitude we have only one moment of single prayer, of devo
tion, so that Brahma is momentary only in his existence, and since this existenc
e is thus inadequate to such content and its universality, the demand arises tha
t this existence should be made into a universal one, such as the content is. Th
e " I," abstractly as such, is the universal, only that this itself is merely a
moment in the existence of abstraction ; the next demand therefore is that this
abstraction, this " I " should be made commensurate with the content. This exalt
ation means nothing else than the breaking off of the transition from the moment
of still solitude into life, into the concrete present, into concrete self-cons
ciousness. With this, all life and all relations of concrete actual life to the
One are to be renounced. The entire living Present, whether that of natural life
or of spiritual life, of the family, of the State, of art, of religion, is diss
olved in the pure negativity of abstract selflessness.
The highest point which is thus attained to in worship is that union with God wh
ich consists in the annihilation and stupefaction of self-consciousness. This is
not affirmative liberation and reconciliation, but is, on the contrary, wholly
negative, complete abstraction. It is that complete emptying which makes renunci
ation of all consciousness, will, emotions, needs. Man, so long as he persists i
n remaining within his own consciousness, is, according to the Hindu idea, ungod
ly. But the freedom of man justs consists in being with himself not in emptiness
, but in willing, knowing, acting. To the Hindu, on the contrary, the complete s
ubmergence and stupefaction of the consciousness is W hat is highest, and he who
maintains himself in this abstraction and has died to the world is called a yog
i.
This state is found existing among the people of India, because many Hindus, who
are not Brahmans, undertake and accomplish the task of making themselves into t
he " I " which is in a completely abstract condition. They renounce all movement
, all interests, all inclination, and give themselves up to a still abstraction
; they are reverenced and supported by others, they remain speechless in rigid t
orpor, looking toward the sun or having their eyes closed. Some remain thus duri
ng their whole life, others for twenty or thirty years. It is related of one of
these Hindus that he had travelled for ten years without ever lying down, having
slept standing ; during the following ten years he had held his hands above his
head, and then he intended to have himself suspended by the feet to swing for t
hree hours and three-quarters over a fire, and finally to have himself buried fo
r three hours and three-quarters. He would then have attained to the highest sta
te, and he who succeeds in reaching such motionlessness, such lifelessness, is,
according to the opinion of the Hindus, immersed thereby in the inner life, and
exists permanently as Brahma.
There is an episode in the Eamayana which places us entirely at this point of vi
ew. Thestory of the life of Visvamitra, the companion of Rama (an incarnation of
Vishnu), is thus related. There was a mighty king, who, as being such, had dema
nded a cow (which is worshipped in India as the generative energy of the earth)
of the Brahman Vasischtha, as he had got to know of its wonderful power. Vasisch
tha refused it ; the king thereupon seized it by force, but the cow escaped back
again to Vasischtha, reproached him with having permitted it to be taken from h
im, since the power of a Kshatriya (which the king was) is not greater than that
of a Brahman. Vasischtha then imposed on the cow the task of assembling a force
for him wherewith to resist the king. The latter confronted him with his entire
army, and both armies were repeatedly overthrown ; finally, however, Visvamitra
was conquered after his hundred sons too had been destroyed by means of a wind
which Vasischtha had caused to issue from his navel. Full of despair, he hands o
ver the government to his only remaining son, and departs with his consort to th
e Himalaya mountains, in order to obtain the favour of Mahadeva (Siva). Moved by
the severity of his exercises, Mahadeva is prepared to fulfil his wishes. Visva
mitra asks to have the knowledge of the whole science of archery, and this is gr
anted him. Armed with his bow, Visvamitra intends to coerce Vasischtha ; with hi
s arrow he lays waste his forest. Vasischtha, however, seizes his staff, the Bra
hmanical weapon, and lifts it up ; whereupon the gods are filled with apprehensi
on, for such a force as this threatened the entire world with destruction. They
entreated the Brahman to desist. Yisvamitra recognises his power, and now resolv
es to subject himself to the severest exercises in order to attain to that power
. He retires into solitude, and lives there a thousand years in abstraction alon
e with his consort. Brahma comes to him, and addresses him thus : " I recognise
thee now as the first royal sage." Yisvamitra, not content with this, begins afr
esh with his penances. In the meantime an Indian king had come to Yasischtha wit
h the request that he would exalt him in his bodily form to heaven. The request,
however, was refused on account of his being a Kshatriya ; but on his haughtily
persisting in it, he was degraded by Yasischtha to the class of the Tschandala.
Upon this he repairs to Yisvamitra with the same request. The latter prepares a
sacrifice to which he invites all the gods ; these, however, decline to come to
a sacrifice made for a Tschandala. Yisvamitra, however, by an exercise of Ins s
trength, lifts up the king to heaven. At the command of Indra, he drops down, bu
t Yisvamitra sustains him between heaven and earth, and afterwards creates anoth
er heaven, other Pleiades, another Indra, and another circle of gods. The gods w
ere filled with astonishment ; they repaired in humility to Yisvamitra, and agre
ed with him about the place they were to assign to their king in heaven. After t
he lapse of a thousand years, Yisvamitra was rewarded, and Brahma named him the
head of the sages, but did not as yet declare him to be a Brahman. Then Yisvamit
ra recommences his penances ; the gods in heaven became envious; Indra attempts
to excite his passions (for it is essential for a perfect sage and Brahman that
he should have subjugated his passions). He sends him a very beautiful girl, wit
h whom Yisvamitra lives five-andtwenty years, but then withdraws himself from he
r, having overcome his love. In vain, too, do the gods try to irritate and make
him angry. Finally, the Brahmanic power has to be granted to him. It is to be ob
served that this is no expiation for crime ; nothing is made good by means of it
. This renunciation has not the consciousness of sin as a presupposition. These
are, on the contrary, austerities undertaken with a view to attaining the state
of Brahma. It is not penance entered upon for the purpose of atoning to the gods
for any kind of crime, transgression, or offence. Penance of the latter kind pr
esupposes the existence of a relation between the work of man, his concrete exis
tence, his actions, and the One God an idea which is full of content, in which m
an has the standard and the law of his character and behaviour, and to which he
is to conform himself in his will and life. But the relation to Brahma contains
as yet nothing concrete, because he himself is merely the abstraction of the sub
stantial soul ; all further determination and content lies outside of him. Thus
a worship, as a substantial relation which effectually influences and directs th
e concrete man, has no place in the relation to Brahma. If such a relation were
present here at all, it would have to be sought in the adoration of the other go
ds. But just as Brahma is conceived as the solitary selfenclosed Being, so, too,
the exaltation of the individual self-consciousness which strives, by means of
the austerities just spoken of, to render its own abstraction something perennia
l for itself, is rather a flight out of the concrete reality of feeling and livi
ng activity. In the consciousness which says, " am Brahma," all virtues and vice
s, all gods, and finally the Trimurti itself, vanish. The concrete consciousness
of one's self and of objective content, which, in the Christian idea of the rep
entance and conversion of the universal sensuous life, is relinquished, is not c
haracterised here as anything sinful or negative, as it is in the penitential li
fe of Christians and Christian monks, and in the idea of conversion. On the cont
rary, it comprehends on the one hand, as has just been indicated, the very conte
nt, otherwise esteemed as holy ; and, on the other hand, we see that the charact
er of the religious standpoint under consideration consists just in this, that a
ll the moments drop asunder, and that the supreme unity casts no reflection into
the fulness of the heart and life.
If the Absolute be conceived of as the spiritually free, the essentially concret
e, then self-consciousness exists as something essential in the religious consci
ousness only, to the extent to which it maintains within itself concrete movemen
t, ideas full of content, and concrete feeling. If, however, the Absolute is the
abstraction of the " Beyond " or of the Supreme Being, then self-consciousness
too, since it is by nature what thinks, by nature good, is that which it ought t
o be.
The man who has thus made himself into the continuously existing Brahma holds a
position equivalent to that which we have already seen was held by the magician,
namely, that he has won an absolute pow T er over nature, and is that power. It
is imagined that such a man can inspire even Indra with fear and apprehension.
In an episode in Bopp's " Chrestomathie " the story of two giants is mentioned,
who came to the Almighty with a request for immortality ; but as they had entere
d upon their exercises merely with a view to attaining to such power, he granted
their petition only to this extent, that they are to die only by some act of th
eir own. They then exert complete dominion over nature. Indra becomes afraid of
them, and employs the usual means of inducing any one to give up such an exercis
e of power. He brings a beautiful woman into existence ; each of the giants wish
es to have her for his wife. In the strife they put each other to death, and the
reby nature is delivered.
. A characteristic which is quite peculiar remains to to be considered, and that
is, that every Brahman, every member of that caste, is esteemed as Brahma, is r
egarded as God by every other Hindu. This particular way of viewing the matter,
however, is in close connection with the previous characteristics. That is to sa
y, each of the two forms which we have considered is, as it were, a merely abstr
act, isolated relation of self-consciousness to Brahma ; the first being only a
momentary one, the second only the flight out of life lasting life in Brahma bei
ng the lasting death of all individuality. The third demand, therefore, is that
this relation should not be mere flight, mere renunciation of life, but that it
should also be posited in an affirmative manner. The question is, How must the a
ffirmative mode of this relation be constituted ? It can be none other than the
form of immediate existence. This is a difficult transition. What is merely inwa
rd, merely abstract, is merely outward ; and thus this merely Abstract is the im
mediate Sensuous, is sensuous externality. Since the relation here is the wholly
abstract one to wholly abstract substance, the affirmative relation is in like
manner a wholly abstract, and consequently an immediate one. With this we get th
e concrete phenomenon implying that the relation to Brahma, the relation of the
self-consciousness to him, is an immediate, a natural one, and thus an inborn on
e, and a relation established by birth.
Man is a thinking being, and is such by nature ; thought is a natural quality of
man. But the fact that he is a thinking being generally expresses a quality dif
ferent from the determination which is here under consideration, from the consci
ousness of thought in general as the absolutely existent. In this form we have i
n fact the consciousness of thought, and this is then posited as the Absolute. I
t is the consciousness of absolute Being which is posited here as existing in a
natural mode, or, to put it otherwise, which is affirmed and supposed to be inbo
rn ; and its degradation into this form is based upon the entire relation ; for
although it is rational knowledge, yet this consciousness is supposed to exist i
n an immediate form.
Since, then, man is a thinking being, and since the consciousness of thought, as
the Universal, the Selfexistent, is distinguished from human thought in general
, while both are something innate, it follows from this that there are two class
es of men, the one including thinking men, men generally, the other including th
ose who are the consciousness of man, as absolute Being. These latter are the Br
ahmans, those born again, twice born through birth, first naturally, and then as
thinking men. This is a profound idea. The thought of man is looked upon here a
s the source of his second existence, the root of his true existence, which he g
ives to himself by means of freedom.
Brahmans come into existence as twice born, and are held in unbounded reverence
; compared with them all other men are of no value. The entire life of the Brahm
ans is expressive of the existence of Brahma. Their deeds consist in giving utte
rance to Brahma ; indeed, by right of birth they are the existence of Brahma. If
any one who is of a lower caste touch a Brahman, he has by the very act incurre
d death. In the Code of Manu penalties are to be found for offences against Brah
mans. If, for example, a Sudra utter abusive language to a Brahman, an iron staf
f, ten inches long, is thrust glowing into his mouth ; and if he attempt to inst
ruct a Brahman, hot oil is poured into his mouth and into his ears. A mysterious
power is ascribed to the Brahmans ; it is said iii Manu, " Let no king irritate
a Brahman, for if exasperated he can destroy his kingdom, with all his strongho
lds, his armies, his elephants, &c."
The culminating point always is isolated thought as Brahma existing solely for i
tself. This culmination comes into existence in that immersion in nothingness, t
hat wholly empty consciousness and contemplation already spoken of. This Brahma,
however, this highest consciousness of thought, is independent, cut off from al
l else, and does not exist as concrete actual spirit ; and accordingly it likewi
se follows that there is no vital connection with this unity present in the subj
ect ; on the contrary, the concrete element of self-consciousness is separated f
rom this region ; the connection is interrupted. This is the leading characteris
tic of this sphere of thought, which, it is true, has in it the development of t
he moments, but iu such a way that they remain separate from one another. Self-c
onsciousness beiug thus cut off, the region in which it is is devoid of spirit,
that is to say, has a merely natural character as something inborn, and to the e
xtent to which this inborn self-consciousness is different from the universal on
e, it is the privilege of certain individuals. The individual " This " is in an
immediate manner the Universal, the Divine. Spirit thus exists, but Spirit which
has merely bare Being is devoid of Spirit. By this means, too, the life of the
" this " as " this" and its life in universality are irremediably separated from
one another. In the religions where such is not the case, that is to say, where
the consciousness of the Universal, of essentiality, appears in the Particular,
and is active in it, freedom of the Spirit takes its rise, and upon the fact th
at the Particular is determined by means of the Universal depends the appearance
of uprightness, morality. In civil law, for example, we find freedom of the ind
ividual in the use he can make of property. I in this particular relation of act
ual existence am free ; the object is held to be mine, as that of a free subject
, and thus the particular existence is determined through the Universal ; my par
ticular existence is co-related with this universality. The same holds good of f
amily relations. Morality exists only where unity is what determines the Particu
lar, where all particularity is determined by the substantial unity. In so far a
s this is not posited, the consciousness of the Universal is essentially a consc
iousness cut off from all else, inactive and devoid of Spirit. Thus by this isol
ation the Highest is made into something unfree and only naturally born.
II. Worship, strictly speaking, is the relation of selfconsciousness to what is
essential, to that which exists in and for itself ; it is consciousness of the O
ne in this essence, consciousness of one's unity with it. The second relation he
re is that of consciousness to these very manifold objects. The many deities con
stitute these objects.
Brahma has no divine service, no temple, and no altars ; the unity of Brahma is
not put in relation to the Real, to active selfconsciousness. From what has been
stated, namely, that the consciousness of the One is isolated, it follows that
nothing is determined by means of reason here in the relation to the Divine ; fo
r this would mean that particular actions, symbols, &c., are determined by means
of unity. Here, however, the region of the Particular is not determined by this
unity, and has thus the character of irrationality, of unfreedom. What we have
is merely a relation to particular deities, which represent nature as detached o
r free. They are, it is true, the most abstract possible moments implicitly dete
rmined through the notion, but not taken back into unity in such a manner that t
he Trimurti would become Spirit. Their whole significance therefore is merely th
at of a mode of some particular natural element. The leading characteristic is v
ital energy or life force, that which produces and which passes away, what retur
ns to life and is self-transformation, and to this natural objects, animals, &c.
, are linked on as objects of reverence. Thus worship is here a relation to thos
e particular things which are cut off in a one-sided manner from what is essenti
al, and is therefore a relation to unessential things in natural form. Religious
action, that is to say, action that is essential, a universal mode of life, is
conceived of and carried out in accordance with this, and is known and realised
here in this fashion. And here religious action is a content which is unessentia
l and without reason.
Since this element, considered generally, is partly objective, namely, the perce
ption of God, and partly subjective, namely, that which it is essential to do, a
nd seeing that what is of most importance becomes unessential, the worship is in
finite in its range ; everything comes into it, the content is of no importance,
it has no limit within itself ; the religious acts are thus essentially irratio
nal, they are determined in an entirely external manner. Whatever is truly essen
tial is stable ; is, as regards its form, exempt from the influence of subjectiv
e opinion and caprice. Here, however, the content is this sensuous contingency,
and the action is a merely characterless action, consisting of usages which cann
ot be understood, because there is no understanding in it ; on the contrary, a l
atitude is introduced into it which runs out in all directions. In so far as all
this is transcended, and in so far as there must be satisfaction in these relig
ious acts, we find this to be attained merely by means of sensuous stupefaction.
The one extreme is the flight of abstraction, the middle point is the slavery o
f unintelligent being and doing, and the other extreme is capricious extravaganc
e surely the saddest possible religion. In so far as flight or escape enters int
o this cult, what is actually done represents mere purely external accomplished
action, mere activity, and to this are added the wildest intoxication and orgies
of the most fearful kind. Such is the necessary character of this worship, a ch
aracter which it acquires owing to the fact that the consciousness of the One is
broken up in this way, for the connection with the rest of concrete existence i
s interrupted, and everything becomes disconnected. In the region of imagination
are found wildness and freedom, and here fancy has free scope. Tims we find mos
t beautiful poetry among the Indian peoples, but it always rests upon the crazie
st foundation ; we are attracted by its loveliness, and repelled by the confusio
n and nonsense in it.
The delicate sensibility and charm of the tenderest feelings and this infinite r
esignation of personality, must necessarily possess supreme beauty under such co
nditions as are peculiar to this standpoint, because it is only this feeling whi
ch, resting thus upon a foundation so devoid of rationality, is moulded exclusiv
ely into forms of beauty. But since this feeling of abandonment is without the e
lement of right, it, for this very reason, is seen to alternate with the most ex
treme harshness, and thus the moment of the independent existence of personality
passes over into ferocity, into forgetfulness of all established bonds, and iss
ues in the trampling under foot of love itself.
The whole content of Spirit and of nature generally is allowed to break up in th
e wildest way. That unity which occupies the leading position is indeed the Powe
r out of which all proceeds and into which all returns ; but it does not become
concrete, does not become the uniting bond of the manifold powers of nature, and
in like manner does not become concrete in Spirit, nor the bond of the manifold
activities of Spirit and of emotional experiences.
In the first case, when the unity becomes the bond of natural things, we call it
necessity ; this is the bond of natural forces and phenomena. We look upon natu
ral properties, things, as being, though independent, essentially linked togethe
r ; laws, understanding, are in Nature, so that in this way the phenomena are co
-related.
But that unity remains in solitary and empty independence, and accordingly that
fulness which it acquires is wild, extravagant disorder. In the spiritual world,
in like manner, the Universal, thought, does not become concrete, determining i
tself within itself. Thought determining itself within itself, and abrogating an
d preserving the determinate element in this universality pure thought as concre
te, is Reason.
Duty, right, exist in thought only. These determinations when they appear in the
form of universality are rational in respect to the truth, the unity just spoke
n of, and likewise in respect to the will. That One, that solitary unity, howeve
r, does not become such concrete unity, reason, rationality.
For this reason there is no right, no duty present here, for the freedom of the
will, of the Spirit, just consists in being present with itself in determinatene
ss. But here this being present or at home with itself, this unity, is abstract,
is devoid of determinate character. And here is one source of the fantastic pol
ytheism of the Hindus.
It has been remarked that the category of "Being is not found here; the Hindus h
ave no category for what we call independent existence in things, or what we exp
ress when we say " they are," " these are." Man, to begin with, knows himself on
ly as existing independently, he therefore conceives of an independent object of
nature as existing with his independence, in the mode of independence which he
has in himself, in his Being, in his human form, as consciousness.
Here fancy makes everything into God. This is what we see in its own fashion amo
ng the Greeks, too, where all trees and springs are made into dryads or nymphs.
We are accustomed to say that the beautiful imagination of man gives soul and li
fe to everything, conceives everything as endowed with life, that man wanders am
ong his like, anthropomorphises everything, by his beautiful sympathy shares wit
h everything that mode of beauty which is his own, and thus, as it were, presses
everything to his heart as having animated life.
But the liberality of the Hindus in the wild extravagance of their desire to sha
re their mode of existence, has its foundation in a poor idea of themselves, in
the fact that the individual has not as yet within himself the content of the fr
eedom of the Eternal, the truly and essentially existent, and does not as yet kn
ow his content, his true nature, to be higher than the content of a spring or of
a tree. Everything is squandered on imagination, and nothing reserved for life.

With the Greeks this is more a play of fancy, while among the Hindus there is no
higher feeling of themselves present. The idea which they have of Being is only
that which they have of themselves ; they place themselves upon the same level
with all the productions of nature. This is because thought lapses so completely
into this abstraction.
These natural powers, then, whose being is thus conceived of as anthropomorphic
and as conscious, are above the concrete man, who, as having a physical nature,
is dependent upon them, and his freedom is not as yet distinguished from this hi
s natural aspect.
It is implied by this that the life of man has no higher value than the being of
natural objects, the life of any natural thing ; the " life of man has value on
ly if it is in itself or essentially, higher ; but among the Hindus human life i
s despised, and is esteemed to be of little worth there a man cannot give himsel
f value in an affirmative, but only in a negative manner.
Life acquires value only by the negation of itself. All that is concrete is mere
ly negative in relation to abstraction, which is here the ruling principle. From
this results that aspect of Hindu worship according to which men sacrifice them
selves, and parents their children. To this is due, too, the burning of wives af
ter the death of their husbands. Such sacrifices have a higher value when they t
ake place with express reference to Brahma, or to any god whatever, for the latt
er is Brahma likewise.
It is esteemed among the Hindus a sacrifice of high value when they mount to the
snow clefts of the Himalaya, where the sources of the Ganges are, and cast them
selves into the springs. Such actions are not penances on account of crime, nor
are they sacrifices with a view to making amends for any evil deed, but merely s
acrifices to give oneself value, and this value can be attained only in a negati
ve way.
With the position which is here given to man animalworship is closely connected.
An animal is not a conscions spirit, but in this concentration of absence of co
nsciousness man is really not far removed from the brutes. By the Hindus action
is not conceived as definite activity, but as simple energy which works through
everything. Special activity is despised ; it is only stupefaction which is held
in esteem, and in this state it is clearly the animal life alone which is left
remaining. And if no freedom, no morality, no good customs be present, then the
power is only known as inward, torpid power, which belongs likewise to the brute
s, and to them in the most complete degree.
Since man when he exists in this way is without freedom, and has no intrinsic wo
rth, we find bound up with this in the sphere of concrete extension that unspeak
able and infinitely varied superstition, those enormous fetters and limitations
above referred to. The relation of man to external natural things, which is of l
ittle consequence to Europeans, that dependence on them, becomes something fixed
, something permanent. For superstition has its foundation just in this, that ma
n is not indifferent toward external things ; and he is not so if he has no free
dom within himself, if he has not the true independence of spirit. All that is i
ndifferent is fixed, while all that is not indifferent, all that belongs to righ
t and morality, is thrown away and abandoned to caprice.
Of this character are the directions which the Brahmans have to observe, and of
a similar character, too, is the narrative of Nala in the Mahabharata. Just as s
uperstition is of limitless extent owing to this want of freedom, so too it foll
ows that no morality, no determination of freedom, no rights, no duties have any
place here, so that the people of India are sunk in the most complete immoralit
y. Since no rational determination has been able to attain to solidity, the enti
re condition of this people could never become a legitimate one, a condition inh
erently justified, and was always merely a condition on sufferance, a contingent
and a perverted one.
. The Religion of Being -ivithinself .
(a.) Its conception.
The general basis here is still the same as that which is peculiar to the Indian
religion ; what advance there is merely consists in the necessity felt that the
characteristics of the Indian religion should be brought together again out of
their wild, lawless independence, out of their merely natural state of dispersio
n, placed in their inner relation, and have their unstable chaos reduced to a st
ate of rest. This religion of Beingwithin-self is the concentration and tranquil
lisation of spirit as it returns out of the arid disorder of the Indian religion
into itself and into essential unity.
The essential unity and the differences have hitherto continued to keep apart to
such an extent that the latter were essentially independent, and only vanished
in the unity in order at once to reappear in all their independence. The relatio
n of the unity and the differences was an infinite progression, a perennial alte
rnation of the vanishing of differences in unity, and their reappearance in thei
r own essential independence. This alternation is now arrested, because that whi
ch is potentially contained in it, namely, the coming together of the differenti
ations in the catagory of unity, is actually posited.
In its character as this Being-within-itself, for which all relation to another
is now precluded, the essence is essentiality existing within itself, reflection
of negativity into itself, and is thus that which is at rest within itself and
persists.
However defective this determination may be, for the Being-within-itself is not
as yet concrete, is only the disappearance of the independent differences, yet w
e are on firm ground here ; it is a true determination of God which constitutes
the foundation.
If we compare this general conception with the assumption that we know nothing o
f God, then this religion, however poor and mean it may seem, yet stands higher
than that which asserts that God cannot be known. For in such a case there can b
e no possibility of worship, since a man can only worship what he knows, what he
has a rational knowledge of. Is colit Deum qui eum novit, is an example in freq
uent use in the Latin grammar. Self-consciousness has at least here an affirmati
ve relation to this object, for the very essence of beingwithinitself is thought
itself, and this is the real essential element in selfconsciousness, and theref
ore there is nothing unknown in it, nothing which is " beyond." It is in presenc
e of its own essence in an affirmative form, since it at once knows this essence
as its own essential nature; but it also conceives it as an object, so that it
distinguishes this beingwithin-itself, this pure freedom, from itself, from this
particular self-consciousness. For this last is contingent, empirical, independ
ent Being, being for self, determined in a manifold way. This is the fundamental
determination.
Substance is universal presence, but as essentiality existing within itself, it
must be known concretely too in an individual concentration. This embodiment and
definite form is still in accordance with the standpoint of natural religion, t
he immediate form of the Spiritual, and has the form of a single definite self-c
onsciousness. Thus, as compared with the previous stage, there is an advance mad
e here from fantastic personification split up into a countless multitude of for
ms, to a personification which is enclosed within definite bounds, and is actual
ly present. A human being is worshipped, and he is as such the god who assumes i
ndividual form, and in that form gives himself up to be reverenced. Substance in
this individual existence is power, sovereignty, the creating and maintaining o
f the world, of nature, and of all things absolute Power.
(b.) The, historical existence of this religion. It is as the religion of Foe th
at this religion has an historical existence ; it is the religion of the Mongols
, the Thibetans in the north and west of China, also of the Burmese and Cingales
e, where, however, that which is elsewhere called Foe is designated Buddha. It i
s, in fact, the religion which we know under the name of Lamaism. It is the most
widely spread of religions, and has the greatest number of adherents. Its worsh
ippers are more numerous than those of Mahomedanisin, which again counts more ad
herents than the Christian religion. As in the Mahomedan religion, a simple Eter
nal constitutes the fundamental idea and the characteristic quality of the inner
element, and this simplicity of its principle is of itself sufficient to bring
diverse nationalities under its sway.
Historically, this religion appears rather later than that form in which the abs
olute Power is what rules. The French missionaries have translated an edict of t
he Emperor Hia-King by which he suppressed many monasteries, because those who l
ived in them did not till the ground and paid no tribute. Here the Emperor says,
in the beginning of the edict, " Under our three famous dynasties the sect of F
oe was not heard of. Only since the dynasty of Hang has it coine into existence.
"
The general conception of this religion in its more definite features is as foll
ows.
. The absolute foundation is the stillness of beingwithin-itself, in which all d
ifferences cease, in which all determinations of the natural existence of Spirit
, all particular powers, have vanished. Thus the Absolute, as beingwithin-itself
, is the Undetermined, the annihilation of all particularity, so that all partic
ular existences, all actual things, are merely something accidental, are merely
Form having no significance.
. Since reflection into itself as the Undetermined (and this too is in harmony w
ith the standpoint of natural religion) is merely immediate reflection, it is ex
pressed in this form as a principle ; nothing and not-being is what is ultimate
and supreme. It is nothing alone which has true independence ; all other actuali
ty, all particularity, has none at all. Out of nothingness everything has procee
ded ; into nothingness everything returns. Nothing, nothingness is the One, the
beginning and the ending of everything. However diverse men and things may be, t
here is but the One principle nothingness out of which they proceed, and it is f
orm alone which constitutes the quality, the diversity.
That man should think of God as nothingness must at first sight seem astonishing
, must appear to us a most peculiar idea. But, considered more closely, this det
ermination means that God is absolutely nothing determined. He is the Undetermin
ed ; no determinateness of any kind pertains to God ; He is the Infinite. This i
s equivalent to saying that God is the negation of all particularity.
When we consider the forms of expression which we hear used, and which are curre
nt at the present day, namely, " God is the Infinite, is Essence pure, simple Es
sence, the Essence of Essences and Essence only " we find that such expressions
are either entirely or nearly identical in signification with the statement that
God is nothingness. In like manner, when it is said that man cannot know God, G
od is thus for us emptiness, indefiniteness.
That modern mode of definition is therefore merely a milder expression for " God
is nothingness." That, however, is a definite, a necessary stage : God is the I
ndeterminate, the indeterminateness in which immediate Being and its apparent in
dependence are abrogated and absorbed, and in which they have vanished away.
. God, although actually conceived of as nothingness, as Essence generally, is y
et known as a particular immediate human being, as Foe, Buddha, Dalailama. Such
a conjunction may appear to us the most offensive, revolting, and incredible of
all, that a man with all his sensuous needs should be looked upon as God, as He
who eternally creates, maintains, and produces the world When in the Christian r
eligion God is worshipped in human form, that is something altogether different
; for the divine Essence is there beheld in the man who has suffered, died, rise
n again, and ascended to heaven. That is not man in his sensuous, immediate exis
tence, but man who has taken on the form of Spirit. The most startling contrast,
however, is when the Absolute has to be worshipped in the immediate finite natu
re of a human being ; this is an even more isolated individualisation than the a
nimal itself is. And what is more, humanity has within itself the requirement th
at it should rise higher, and hence it seems repugnant that this demand should b
e suppressed, and man's aspiration tied down to continuance in ordinary finite e
xistence.
We must, however, learn to understand this general conception, and in understand
ing it we justify it : we show how it gets its foundation, its element of ration
ality, a place within reason ; but it is also implied in this that we perceive i
ts defectiveness. In dealing with religions, we must learn to perceive that what
is in them is not mere nonsense, mere irrationality. What is of more importance
than this, however, is to recognise the element of truth, and to know how it is
in harmony with reason ; and that is more difficult than to pronounce a thing t
o have no sense in it.
Beiiig-within-itself is the essential stage, so that we may advance from immedia
te, empirical singularity to the determination of essence, of essentiality, to t
he consciousness of Substance, of a substantial Power which governs the world, c
auses everything to originate and come into being in accordance with rational la
ws of connection. So far as it is substantial, inherently existent, it is a powe
r which works unconsciously ; and just because of this it is undivided activity,
has universality in it, is universal power. And in order to make this intelligi
ble to ourselves, we must recall the expressions activity of nature, spirit of n
ature, soul of nature. We do not mean by these that the spirit of nature is cons
cious spirit, nor in using them are we thinking of anything conscious. The natur
al laws of plants, animals, of their organisation and action, are devoid of cons
ciousness : these laws are the substantial element, are their nature, their noti
on ; they are this implicitly, are the reason that is immanent in them, but with
out consciousness.
Man is Spirit, and his spirit determines itself as soul, as this unity of what h
as life. This its life force, which in the unfolding of his organised existence
is one only, permeating and sustaining everything, this activity is present in m
an so long as he lives, without his knowing it or willing it ; and yet his livin
g soul is the cause, the originating agency, the Substance, which produces it. M
an, this living soul, knows nothing of this ; he does not will this circulation
of the blood, does not prescribe it to himself ; yet he does it : it is his deed
. Man is the acting, working power in that which goes on in his organism. This u
nconscious active rationality or unconscious rational activity is the ruling of
the M*orld by vovs ; among the ancients the vov
of Anaxagoras. This is not conscious reason. By modern philosophers, especially
by Schelling, this rational activity has been also called perception or intuitio
n God as intuitive intelligence. God, intelligence, reason as intellectual intui
tion, is the eternal creation of nature, what is called the maintenance of natur
e ; for creation and preservation are inseparable. In perception we are immersed
in the objects ; they fill us. This is the lower stage of consciousness, this i
mmersion in the objects ; to reflect upon them, to arrive at general ideas, to o
riginate points of view, to attach certain determinations to certain objects to
judge is no longer perception as such.
Such then is this standpoint of substantiality, of intellectual perception or in
tuition. This is really the standpoint of Pantheism in the true sense of the wor
d, this Oriental knowledge, consciousness, thought of this absolute unity, of th
e absolute Substance and the activity of this Substance within itself, an activi
ty in which all that is particular, that is individual, is merely something tran
sient, vanishing, and does not represent true independence.
This Oriental conception stands in contrast to that of tb.e West, in which man,
like the sun, sets into himself, into his subjectivity. Here individuality is th
e leading category, the fact, namely, that it is the individual which is indepen
dent. As with the Orientals it is the Universal which is the truly independent,
so in this form of consciousness we find the singularity or individuality of thi
ngs, of mankind, occupying the foremost place ; indeed, the Occidental mode of c
onception is capable of going so far as to assert that finite things are indepen
dent, that is to say, absolute.
The expression Pantheism has the same ambiguity which attaches to Universality.
"Ei/ KOI Hav means the One All, the All, which remains absolutely One ; but Tlav
means also Everything, and thus it is that it passes over into that idea which
is devoid of thought, and is a poor and unphilosophical one.
Thus Pantheism is understood as meaning the divine nature of all things, not the
divine nature of all : for in the case of all being deified, if God were All, t
here is only one God ; in the All, particular things are absorbed, and are merel
y shadows, phantoms ; they come and go, the very nature of their being is to van
ish.
Philosophy is, moreover, asked to confess that it is Pantheism in the first of t
hese two senses, and it is theologians especially who use this kind of language.

The ambiguity of Universality is precisely the same. If it be taken in the sense

of the universality of reflection, it is in that case allness ; and in the next
 place, this is taken to mean that individuality remains independent. But the Un
iversality of Thought, the substantial universality, is unity with itself, in wh
ich all that is individual, that is particular, is merely ideal, and has no true
Being.
This substantiality is the fundamental determination of our knowledge of God too
, but it is only the fundamental determination, the foundation not being yet the
True. God is the absolute Power, we must say that ; He alone is Power. Everythi
ng which pretends to say of itself that it is, that it lias reality, is annulled
, absorbed, is only a moment of the absolute God, the absolute Power. God alone
is ; God alone is the One true reality.
In our religion too this lies at the foundation of the idea of God. The omnipres
ence of God, if it is no empty word, directly expresses substantiality ; the lat
ter underlies it. But stupidity continues to prate of these profound religious e
xpressions as a mere matter of memory, and is not at all in earnest about them.
As soon as true Being is ascribed to the finite, as soon as things are independe
nt, God is shut out from them ; then God is not omnipresent at all, for if God i
s omnipresent, it will at once be said that He is real, and not the things.
He is therefore not beside the things, in the pores, like the God of Epicurus, b
ut actually in the things : and in this case the things are not real, and this p
resence in them is the ideality of the things. For that feeble way of thinking,
on the other hand, things are invincible ; they are an impregnable reality. Omni
presence must have a true meaning for the spirit, heart, thought ; Spirit must h
ave a true interest in it. God is the subsistence of all things.
Pantheism is a bad expression, because it is possible to misunderstand it so tha
t Ilai/ is taken in the sense of allness or totality, not as universality. The p
hilosophy of Spinoza was a philosophy of substantiality, not of Pantheism.
God is in all higher religions, but especially in the Christian religion, the ab
solutely One Substance. He is, at the same time, however, subject too, and that
represents a further stage. As man has personality, the characteristic of subjec
tivity, personality, spirit, absolute spirit, enters into God. This is a higher
characteristic, but Spirit nevertheless remains Substance, is the One Substance
notwithstanding.
This abstract Substance, which is the ultimate principle of the philosophy of Sp
inoza, this Substance which is tlwught of, which is only for thought, cannot be
the content of the religion of a people, cannot be the faith of a concrete spiri
t. Spirit is concrete ; it is only abstract thought which remains in one-sided d
eterminateness of this kind, in that of Substance.
The concrete spirit supplies the deficiency, and this deficiency is that subject
ivity is wanting, that is to say, spirituality or the spiritual element. Here at
the stage of natural religion, however, this spirituality does not yet exist as
such, is not yet thought-out spirituality, universal spirituality, but sensuous
, immediate spirituality ; here it is a man, as sensuous, external, immediate sp
irituality, and therefore in the form of the spiritual life of a definite human
being, of an empirical, individual consciousness. Xow if this man remains in con
trast with this Substance, with the inherently universal Substance, then it must
be remembered that man as living substantiality is really this inherent substan
tial reality in himself, which is determined by his bodily existence ; it must b
e possible to think that this life force is in a substantial way active life wit
hin him. This point of view contains universal Substantiality in an actual form.

Here the idea presents itself that a man is universal Substance in his act of me
ditation, when he is occupied with himself, when he is absorbed in himself ; not
 merely in his active life, but in his absorption in self, in the centre of the
vov
, of the vou? posited as the centre, but in such a way that the you? is not cons
cious of itself in its determination and development. This substantiality of the
vovs, this absorption represented in one individual, is not the meditation of a
king, who has in his consciousness the thought of the administration of his emp
ire ; but rather implies that this absorption in self is as abstract thought pot
entially active substantiality, the creation and preservation of the world.
The subjective form is not as yet exclusive here : only in the interpenetration
of spirituality, subjectivity, and substance does God become essentially One. Th
us Substance is certainly One ; but Subjectivity, these outward embodiments, are
several, and it is their very nature to be several : for this assumption of out
ward form is conceived of as itself in relation to substantiality, as something
essential in fact, while yet at the same time it is also conceived of as somethi
ng that is accidental.
For opposition, contradiction, first appears only in consciousness, in will, in
a particular act of intelligence, and for this reason there cannot be several wo
rldly rulers in one land. But this spirittial activity, although it has spiritua
l form for its definite existence or actual embodiment, is yet merely activity o
f substance, and does not appear as conscious activity, as conscious will.
Thus there are several, that is to say, three principal Lamas : the first, Dalai
lama, is to be found in Lassa, to the north of the Himalayas. There is another L
ama in Little Thibet, in Tischu-Lombu. in the neighbourhood of Nepaul. Finally,
in Mongolia there is yet a third Lama.
Spirit can, indeed, have one outward form only, and this is man, the sensuous ma
nifestation of Spirit. But if the inner element is not determined as Spirit, the
form at once becomes accidental or indifferent. The eternal life of the Christi
an is the Spirit of God itself, and the Spirit of God just consists in self-cons
ciousness of oneself as the Divine Spirit. At this stage, on the other hand, Bei
ng-within-itself is still devoid of determination, is not as yet Spirit. It is i
mmediate Being-within-itself; the eternal as this Being-within-itself has as yet
no content, so that we cannot speak of the form as corresponding to the inner n
ature. The indifference of the form extends here even to the objectively eternal
. Death even is no interruption as regards the substantial Essence ; as soon as
ever a Lama dies, another is at hand at once, so that the Essence is the same in
both, and he can be sought for directly, being recognisable by certain marks. T
hus we have a description by the English ambassador Turner of the Lama in Little
Thibet ; he was a child of two or three years old, whose predecessor had died o
n a journey to Pekin, to which place he had been summoned by the Chinese Emperor
. A regent, the minister of the previous Dalailama, who is designated his cup-be
arer, took the place of this child in the affairs of government.
There is a difference between Buddhism and Lamaism. What they have in common has
been already indicated, and those who worship Eoe and Buddha worship the Dalail
ama also. It is, however, more under the form of some dead person, who yet has a
lso a present existence among his successors, that the latter is worshipped. Of
Foe, too, in like manner, it is related that he had incarnated himself eight tho
usand times, and had been present in the actual existence of a human being.
Such are the fundamental determinations which result from what is here the divin
e nature, and which alone result from it, since this itself is still confined en
tirely to the undeveloped abstraction of calm, characterless Beingwithin-itself.
On this account all further embodiment and mental representation of it is made
entirely dependent, partly on the accidental element of empirical historical eve
nts, and partly on that of ungoverned imagination. The details of it belong to a
 description of the countless confused imaginings about certain incidents connec
ted with, or things that have befallen these deities, their friends and disciple
s, and yield material which, so far as its substance is concerned, has but littl
e interest or value, and indeed, for the reasons already stated, has not the int
erest of the Notion.
In regard to worship, we have not to do here with external ceremonies and custom
s. It is the essential element alone which is to be described here, namely, how
Beingwithin-itself, the principle of this stage, appears in the actual conscious
ness.
(c.) Worship or cultus.
This religion of substantiality has influenced the character of the peoples who
profess it in the degree in which they have made exaltation above the immediate
individual consciousness a thorough-going requirement.
i. Since the One is conceived of as the Substantial, this immediately involves e
levation above desire, above the individual will, above savagery involves immers
ion in this inwardness, this unity. The image of Buddha is in this thinking posi
tion : the feet and arms are folded over one another so that one toe goes into t
he mouth, representing this returning into self, this self-absorption. The chara
cter of the peoples who profess this religion is that of calmness, gentleness, o
bedience, which is superior to savagery, to passion.
But it is the Dalailama above all who is the manifestation of perfect and satisf
ied Being-within-itself. His leading characteristics are repose and gentleness,
with which he combines insight and a thoroughly noble manner of existence. Natio
ns worship him, regarding him in the fair light of one living in pure contemplat
ion, the absolute Eternal being present in him. If the Lama has to direct his at
tention to eternal things, he is then exclusively occ\ipied with the beneficent
office of bestowing consolation and help ; his primary attribute is to forget an
d to have mercy. That child which was in Little Thibet when the English ambassad
or already mentioned arrived there, was, it is true, still being suckled, but wa
s a lively intelligent child, behaved with all possible dignity and propriety, a
nd seemed already to have a consciousness of his higher dignity. And the ambassa
dor could not sufficiently praise the regent for his noble bearing and passionle
ss repose. The preceding Lama, too, had been a discerning, worthy, high-minded m
an. That, however, an individual should have substance concentrated in himself,
and should outwardly display this worthy and noble character, are two things whi
ch are in close relation to each other.
In so far as the stillness of Being-within-itself is the extinction of all that
is particular, is nothingness, this state of annihilation is the highest state f
or man, and his destiny is to immerse himself in this non-existence, eternal rep
ose, in nothingness in fact, in the substantial, where all determinations cease,
and there is no will, no intelligence. By persistent immersion and meditation w
ithin himself man is supposed to become like to this principle, to come to be wi
thout passion, without inclination, without action, and to arrive at a condition
in whicli he desires nothing and does nothing.
There is no question here of virtue, vice, reconciliation, immortality ; the hol
iness of a man consists in his uniting himself in this extinction, in this silen
ce, with God, with nothingness, with the Absolute. The highest state consists in
the cessation of all bodily motion, of all movement of the soul. When this leve
l has been reached, there is no descent to a lower grade, no further change, and
man has no migration to fear after death, for he is then identical with God. He
re, therefore, we have expressed the theoretical moment that man is something su
bstantial, exists for himself. The practical element is that he wills ; if he wi
lls, then that which is is an object for him whicli he alters, upon which he imp
resses his form. The practical value of religious feeling is determined in accor
dance with the content of that which is regarded as the True. In this religion,
however, this theoretical element is still present, namely, that this unity, pur
ity, nothingness is absolutely independent in relation to consciousness, that it
is its nature not to act in opposition to the objective, not to give it form, b
ut to leave it to itself, so that this stillness is produced in it. This is the
Absolute ; man has to make himself nothingness. The value of man consists in thi
s, that his self-consciousness has an affirmative relation to that theoretical s
ubstantiality. This is the opposite of that relation which, since the object has
no determination for it, is of a merely negative nature, and for that very reas
on is only affirmative, as being a relation of the subject to its own inwardness
, which is the power to transmute all objectivity into a negative, that is to sa
y, is affirmative in its " vanity " alone.
That still, gentle state of mind has, in the first place, momentarily in worship
the consciousness (A such eternal repose as essential divine Being, and this gi
ves the tone and character to the rest of life. But self-consciousness is at lib
erty too to make its entire life a permanent state of that stillness and contemp
lation without existence ; and this actual withdrawal from the eternal condition
s of the needs and activities of life into the tranquil inner region, and the co
nsequent attainment of union with this theoretical substantiality, must be consi
dered as the supreme consummation. Thus great religious associations take their
rise among these peoples, the members of which live in community in repose of th
e spirit, and in tranquil contemplation of the Eternal, without taking part in w
orldly interests and occupations.
If a man assumes this negative mental attitude, defends himself not against what
is external, but only against himself, and unites himself with nothingness, rid
s himself of all consciousness, of all passion, he is then exalted to the state
which among Buddhists is called Nirvana. In this condition man is without gravit
y, he has no longer any weight, is not subject to disease, to old age, to death
; he is looked upon as God Himself ; he has become Buddha.
. If by transplanting himself into this state of abstraction, this perfect solit
ude, this renunciation, nothingness, a man attains to this, that he is undisting
uishable from God, eternal, identical with God, then the ideas of immortality an
d transmigration of souls enter as an essential element into the doctrines of Fo
e, of Buddha. This standpoint is, strictly speaking, higher than that at which t
he adherents of Tao are supposed to make themselves Shan, immortal.
While this is given out as the highest destiny of man, namely, to make himself i
mmortal by means of meditation, by returning into himself, it is not at the same
time asserted that the soul in itself as such is persistent and essential, that
the spirit is immortal, but only that man makes himself for the first time immo
rtal by this abstraction, this exaltation, that he ought, in fact, to make himse
lf such. The thought of immortality is involved in the fact that man is a thinki
ng being, that he is in his freedom at home with himself; thus he is absolutely
independent ; an " Other " cannot break in upon his freedom : he relates himself
to himself alone ; an Other cannot give itself valid worth within him.
This likeness or equality with myself, " I," this selfcontained existence, this
true Infinite, is accordingly what, in the language peculiar to this point of vi
ew, is immortal, is subject to no change ; it is itself the Unchangeable, what i
s within itself alone, what moves itself only within itself. " I," is not dead r
epose, but movement movement, however, which is not called change, but is eterna
l rest, eternal transparency within itself.
Since God is known as the essential, is thought of in His essentiality, and sinc
e Being-withiu-itself, and selfcontained Being or Being-with-itself is a true de
termination, so in relation to the subject this Beingwithin-itself, this essenti
ality is known as its nature, the subject being inherently spiritual. This essen
tiality attaches to the soul, to the subject too ; it becomes known that the sou
l is immortal, that its natuie is to have a pure existence, but not as yet to ex
ist in the strict sense as this purity that is, not as yet to exist as spiritual
ity. On the contrary, this essentiality still strictly implies that the mode of
existence continues to be sensuous immediacy, which, however, is merely accident
al.
Immortality, therefore, means that the soul which is at home with itself or self
-contained, as being something essential, is at the same time existing. Essence
without existence is a mere abstraction ; essentiality, the Notion, must be thou
ght of as existing. Thus realisation, too, belongs to essentiality, but the form
of the realisation is still sensuous existence, sensuous immediacy. Now transmi
gration of souls means that the soul still persists after death, but in another
mode of existence, a sensuous mode. The soul being still abstractly conceived of
as Being-within-itself, the form assumed is a matter of indifference. The spiri
t is not known as concrete, is only abstract essentiality, and thus determinate
Being ; the phenomenal appearance is merely the immediate sensuous shape, which
is contingent, and is human or animal form. Human beings, animals, the whole wor
ld of life, become the many-hued garment of colourless individuality. Being-with
in-itself, the Eternal, has as yet no content, and therefore, too, no standard f
or form.
The idea that man passes into such forms, is accordingly united with the thought
of morality, of desert. That is to say, the relation of man to the principle, t
o nothingness, implies that in order to be happy he must labour by means of cont
inuous speculation, meditation, musing upon himself, to become like to this prin
ciple, and the holiness of man consists in uniting himself in this silence with
God. The loud voices of worldly life must become mute ; the silence of the grave
is the element of eternity and holiness. In the cessation of all movement or mo
tion of the body, all movement of the soul, in this extinction of oneself happin
ess consists. And when a man has reached this stage of perfection, then there is
no more change, his soul h;is no longer to fear transmigration, for he is ident
ical with the god Foe. The soul is exalted into the region of nothingness, and t
hus delivered from bondage to external sensuous form.
In so far, however, as a man has not, by renunciation, by sinking into himself,
attained to this felicity though this latter is indeed in him, for his spirit is
this potentiality he is still in need of duration, and so of bodily existence t
oo, and in this way the idea of metempsychosis takes its origin.
. It is here, accordingly, that the aspects of power and of magic combine with t
his idea, and the religion of Beingwithin-itself runs out into the wildest super
stition. The theoretical relation, owing to the fact that it is, properly speaki
ng, inherently empty, is reversed and changes into the practical one of magic. T
he mediation of priests here comes in, and they represent at once the Higher, an
d the power above the forms or shapes which man assumes. The adherents of Foe ar
e in this respect superstitious to the utmost degree. They believe that man pass
es into all possible forms, and that the priests are those who, living in the su
persensuous world, determine the form which the soul is to take on, and are ther
efore able to keep it from assuming ill-omened shapes. A missionary tells a stor
y of a dying Chinese who had sent for him, and complained that a Bonze (these ar
e the priests, those who know, to whom is known what is happening in the other w
orld) had told him that just as he was now in the service of the Emperor, so wou
ld he remain in it after death likewise; his soul would pass into an imperial po
st-horse; he must then perform his duties faithfully, not kick, not bite, not st
umble, and content himself with a small amount of food.
The dogma of metempsychosis is also the point at which the simple worship of Bei
ngwithin-itself transforms itself into an idolatry of the most varied descriptio
n. In this dogma we have the foundation and origin of that infinite multitude of
idols and images which are everywhere worshipped where Foe holds sway. Fourfoot
ed beasts, birds, creeping things, in a word, the lowest forms of animal life, h
ave temples and are worshipped, because the god inhabits each one of them in his
new births, and any and every animal body may be inhabited by the soul of man.

III.
NATURAL RELIGION IN TRANSITION TO THE RELIGION OF FREEDOM.
As regards its necessity, this transition is based upon the fact that the truth
which in the preceding stages is potentially present as the foundation is here a
ctually brought forward and posited. In the Religion of Phantasy and that of Bei
ng-within-itself, this subject, this subjective self-consciousness, is identical
, though in an immediate manner, with that substantial unity which is called Bra
hma or characterless nothingness. This One is now conceived of as unity determin
ed within itself, as implicitly subjective unity, and at the same time as this u
nity in its character as implicitly totality. If the unity be inherently determi
ned as subjective, it then contains the principle of Spirituality in itself, and
it is this principle which unfolds itself in the religions which are based upon
this transition.
Further, in the Indian religion the One, the unity of Brahma, and determinatenes
s, the many Powers of the Particular, this appearance of differences, stood in a
relation to each other which implied that at one time the differences were held
to be independent, and at another that they had disappeared and were submerged
in unity. The dominant and universal characteristic was the alter -. nation of o
rigination and passing away ; the alternation of the annulling and absorption of
the particular Powers in the unity, and of procession out of unity. In the Reli
gion of Being-within-itself this alternation was indeed brought to rest in so fa
r as the particular differences fell back into the unity of nothingness, but thi
s unity was empty and abstract, and the truth is, on the contrary, the unity whi
ch is concrete within itself and is totality, so that even that abstract unity,
together with the element of difference, enters into the true unity in which the
differences are posited as annulled, as ideal, negative, and non-self-subsistin
g, but at the same time as preserved.
The unfolding of the moments of the Idea, the selfdifferentiation of the thought
of absolute Substance, was therefore hitherto defective, in so far as the forms
or shapes lost themselves on the one hand in hard fixity, while on the other it
was merely by flight that unity was reached, or to put it otherwise, the unity
was merely the disappearance of the differences. Now, however, the reflection of
manifoldness into itself appears, implying that Thought itself contains determi
nation within itself, so that it is self-determination, and determination has on
ly worth and substantive content in so far as it is reflected into this unity. T
ogether with this, the notion of freedom, objectivity, is posited, and the divin
e Notion thus becomes the unity of the finite and infinite. The Thought which on
ly exists within itself, pure Substance, is the Infinite, and the finite, in acc
ordance with the thought-determination, is the many gods ; while the unity is ne
gative unity, abstraction, which submerges the Many in this One. But this last h
as gained nothing by this ; it is undetermined as before, and the finite is only
affirmative outside of the Infinite, not within it, and hence so soon as it is
affirmative it is finitude which is devoid of rationality. But now the finite, t
he determinate in general is taken up into infinitude, the form is commensurate
with the substance, the infinite form is identical with the substance, which det
ermines itself within itself, and is not merely abstract Power.
The other equally essential determination is that with this the separation of th
e empirical self-consciousness from the Absolute, from the content of the Highes
t, for the first time takes place, that here for the first time God attains true
objectivity. At the former stages it is the empirical self-consciousness immers
ed in itself which is Brahma, this abstraction within self, or, in other words,
the Highest is present as a human being. Thus substantial unity is still insepar
able from the subject, and in so far as it is still something imperfect, is not
as yet in its very nature subjective unity ; it still has the subject outside of
it. The objectivity of the Absolute, the consciousness of its independence in i
ts own right, is not present.
Here this breach between subjectivity and objectivity takes place for the first
time, and it is here that objectivity for the first time properly deserves the n
ame of God; and we have this objectivity of God here because this content has de
termined itself by its own act to be potentially concrete totality. The meaning
of this is that God is a Spirit, that God is the Spirit in all religious.
When, as happens with special frequency at the present day, we hear it said that
subjective consciousness forms a part of religion, the idea expressed is a corr
ect one We have here the instinct that subjectivity belongs to religion. But peo
ple have an idea that the spiritual can exist as an empirical subject, which the
n as empirical consciousness can have a natural thing for its God, and this mean
s that spirituality can come into consciousness only, and God, too, as a natural
existence, can be an object for this consciousness.
Thus, on the one side, we have God as a natural existence ; but God is essential
ly Spirit, and this is the absolute characteristic quality of religion in genera
l and therefore the fundamental characteristic, the substantial basis, in every
form of religion. The natural thing is presented in a human fashion, and also as
personality, as spirit, as consciousness ; but the deities of the Hindus are st
ill superficial personifications the personification by no means implies that th
e. object, God, is known as Spirit. It is these particular objects, the sun, a t
ree, which are personified. The incarnations of the deities, too, have their pla
ce here ; the particular objects have, however, an independence, and because the
y are particular and natural objects the independence is only a fictitious one.
But the Highest is Spirit, and it is from the empirical subjective spirit in the
first instance that this spiritual determination and independence is derived, e
ither where it gets a definite shape, or where Brahma has his existence in and t
hrough immersion of the subject in itself. Now, however, it is no longer the cas
e that man is God or God is man that God exists merely in an empiricohuman mode
; on the contrary, God is truly objective in His own nature, is in His very Bein
g totality, concretely determined in Himself, that is to say, known as being in
His real nature subjective, and thus is He for the first time essentially an Obj
ect, and stands over against man in general.
The return to the thought that God appears as man, as God-man, we shall find lat
er on ; but it is here that this objectivity of God has its beginning.
Now if the Universal be conceived as determination of self within self, then it
comes into opposition with what is Other than itself, and represents strife with
the Other of itself. In the religion of Power there is no opposition, no strife
, for the accidental has no value for Substance.
Power now determining itself by its own act, has not, indeed, these determinatio
ns as something finite. On the contrary, what is determined exists in its comple
te and independent truth. By means of this, God is determined as the Good ; good
ness is not laid down as a predicate here, but He is simply the Good. In what ha
s no determinate character there is neither good nor evil. The Good, on the othe
r hand, is here the Universal, but with one purpose or end a determinate charact
er, which is commensurate with the universality in which it is.
To begin with, however, the self-determination of self is at this stage exclusiv
e. Thus the Good comes into relation with what is Other, the Evil, and this rela
tion is strife dualism. Eeconciliation, here a becoming or something that ought-
to-be only, is not as yet thought of as in and pertaining to this Goodness itsel
f.
Here it is at once posited as a necessary consequence that the strife comes to b
e known as a characteristic of Substance itself. The Negative is posited in Spir
it itself, and this is compared with its affirmation, so that this comparison is
present in felt experience, and constitutes pain, death. And here, finally, the
strife, which dies away, is the wrestling of Spirit to come to itself, to attai
n to freedom.
From these fundamental determinations the following divisions of this transition
stage result :
. The first determination is that of the Persian religion. Here the actual Being
of the Good is still of a superficial kind, consequently it has a natural form,
but a natural existence which is formless Light.
. The form of religion in which strife, pain, death itself actually appear in th
e Essence the Syrian religion. . The struggling out of the strife, the going onw
ard to the true destiny of free spirituality, the overcoming of evil, complete t
ransition to the religion of free spirituality the Egyptian religion.
Speaking generally, however, the characteristic common to these three forms of r
eligion is the resumption of wild, unrestrained totality into concrete unity. Th
is giddy whirl, in which the determinations of unity are precipitated into exter
nality and contingency, where out of unity, as out of Brahma, this wild notionle
ss world of deities proceeds, and where the development, because it is not propo
rtionate to the unity, breaks up into confusion this state, devoid of anything t
o give it steadfastness, has now passed away.
This resumption into substantial unity, which is inherently subjective, has, how
ever, two forms. The first form of resumption is that seen in the religion of th
e Parsees, and it takes place in a pure, simple manner. The other is the ferment
ing process, seen in the Syrian and Egyptian religions, where the fermentation o
f totality mediates itself into unity, and unity comes into existence in the str
ife of its elements.
i. The Religion of the Good or of Light.
(a.) Its notion or conception.
i. The resumption is as yet the pure simple one, but for that reason it is also
abstract. God is known as the absolutely existent, which is determined w y ithin
itself.
Here the determinate character is not an empirical, manifold one, but is just wh
at is pure, universal, what is equal to itself ; a determination of Substance, b
y which it ceases to be Substance, and begins to be subject. This unity, as self
-determining, has a content, and that this content is what is determined by unit
y, and is in conformity with it, is the universal content, is what is called Goo
d or the True ; for those are only forms which belong to the further distinction
s of knowing and willing, which in the highest form of subjectivity are but one
truth, particularisations of this One truth.
The fact that this Universal is determined by the self-determination of Spirit,
and by Spirit and for Spirit, is the side upon which it is Truth. In proportion
as it is posited by Spirit, is a self-determination commensurate with its unity,
 is its own self-determination by which it remains true to itself in its univers
ality, and in consequence of which no other determinations present themselves un
less that unity itself, is it the Good. It is therefore the true content which h
as objectivity, the Good, which is the same as the True. This Good is at the sam
e time self-determination of the One, of absolute Substance, and in being such i
t directly remains absolute Power the Good as absolute Power, Such is the determ
ination of the content.
. It is just in this determination of the Absolute, and in the fact that it is s
elf-determination and the Good, in which even concrete life is able to behold it
s affirmative root, and to become conscious of itself in a true manner, that the
re lies the connection with the concrete, with the world, with concrete empirica
l life generally. Out of this Power all things proceed. We had this determinatio
n of the Absolute in the foregoing forms, where it implied that this mode of sel
f-determination, as a mode of determination, contains abstract determination, is
not selfdetermination, what has returned into itself, what remains in identity,
the True and Good in the universal sense, but is the act of determination gener
ally. Power, as such, is neither good nor wise ; it has no end in view, but is m
erely determined as Being and Not-being ; it is characterised by wildness, by mo
des of acting savouring of madness in fact. For this reason Power is intrinsical
ly what is without determination.
This moment of Power is also present, but as something subordinated. Thus it is
concrete life, the world in manifold existence ; but that which is all-important
is that in the Good, as self-determination, is contained this absolute characte
ristic, namely, the connection of the Good with the concrete world.
Subjectivity, particularity generally, is in this Substance, in the One itself,
which is the absolute subject. This element, which belongs to the particular lif
e, this deterruinateness is at the same time posited in the Absolute itself, and
in being so is an affirmative co-relation or connection of the Absolute, of the
good and true, of the Infinite with that which is called the finite.
The affirmative connection in the earlier forms of religion exists in part only
in this pure absorption, in which the subject says, " I am Brahma," but it is an
absolutely abstract connection, which only exists by means of this stupefaction
, this relinquishment of all concrete actuality of Spirit, by means of negation.
This affirmative connection is merely, as it were, a simple thread; for the res
t, it is the abstract negative, this sacrifice, this self-immolation ; that is t
o say, instead of connection there is merely flight from the concrete.
But with this affirmative connection, where determinate existence is taken up in
to universality, it is stated that things themselves are good ; the Good is pres
ent Substance in them, and that which is good is their life, their affirmative B
eing. So far as they remain good, they belong to this realm of the Good ; they a
re from the very first received into favour ; it is not that a part only are the
se twice-born, as in India. On the contrary, the finite is composed of what is g
ood, and is good. And, indeed, good is taken in the proper sense, and is underst
ood with reference to an external end, an external comparison. That is in accord
ance with an end which is good for something, so that the end lies outside of th
e object. Here, on the other hand, good is to be understood as meaning that it i
s the Universal determined within itself. Good is so determined within itself ;
the particular things are good, they serve their own purpose, are adequate to th
emselves, not merely to an Other. The Good is not for them a " Beyond," Brahma a
gain.
. This Good, although it is indeed subjective itself, is inherently determined a
s Good, and is commensurate with substantial unity, with Universality itself, ye
t this determination is itself still abstract. The Good is concrete within itsel
f, and yet this determinate existence of concrete Being is itself still abstract
. In order that the Good be not abstract, there must be the development of form,
the positing of the moments of the Notion. In order to exist as rational Idea,
to be known as Spirit, its determinations, the negative element, the distinction
s as representing its powers must be posited, known, by means of the thought in
it.
The Good may be made use of in various ways, or, to put it otherwise, human bein
gs have good intentions. Here the question presents itself, " What is good ? " T
here is a demand for further definition and explanation of the Good. Here we sti
ll have Good as abstract, as something one-sided, and consequently as an absolut
e antithesis to an Other, and this Other is Evil. In this simple relation the ne
gative is not as yet comprehended wit in what rightly belongs to it.
We thus have two principles, the well-known Oriental dualism the realms of good
and evil. This is the grand opposition which has here reached this universal abs
traction. In the varied character of the deities previously referred to, there i
s undoubtedly manifoldness, difference ; but the fact that this duality has beco
me the universal principle is quite another thing, for the difference confronts
itself as this dualism.
The Good is indeed the True, the Powerful, but is at war with Evil in such a way
that Evil stands over against it as an absolute principle, and remains standing
over against it. The evil ought, it is true, to be overcome, to be equated, but
what ought to be is not. The ought-tobe, the ideal, is a force which cannot rea
lise itself ; it is a certain weakness and impotence.
This dualism, understood as distinction or difference in its entire universality
, is the interest alike of religion and philosophy, and it is, in fact, when put
in terms of Thought that this opposition acquires its universality. At the pres
ent time dualism is a form of thought too ; but when we speak of dualism, the fo
rms referred to are of a weak and slight kind. The modern antithesis of finite a
nd infinite is just that of Ahriman and Ormazd it is just the same Manicheism as
we have here.
From the moment that we take the finite as independent, so that the infinite and
finite stand opposite to one another in such a way that the infinite has no par
t with the finite, and the finite cannot pass over to the infinite, then that is
the same thing as this dualism, only that when we so conceive of the relation,
we have not the intention of forming, nor the heart to form a conception of thes
e opposites in accordance with their entire content.
The finite when, in its further determination, it asserts itself as finite over
against the infinite, the Universal, and in so doing declares itself opposed to
the infinite, is the Evil. We find accordingly that some stop short at this stan
dpoint, which is marked by an utter absence of thought, and in accordance with w
hich a valid existence is allowed both to -the finite and the infinite. But God
is only one principle, one power, and the finite, and for that very reason Evil,
has no true independent existence.
But further, Good, by virtue of its universality, has moreover a natural mode of
determinate existence, a mode of existence for an Other, namely, Light, which i
s pure manifestation. As the Good, that which is self-identical or commensurate
with itself, is subjectivity in its pure identity with itself in the spiritual s
phere, so is Light this abstract subjectivity in the sensuous sphere. Space and
time are the primary abstractions in the sphere of externality or mutual exclusi
on, but the concrete physical element in its universality is Light. If, therefor
e, the essentially Good, because of its abstract character, comes to have the fo
rm of immediateness, and consequently of naturalness (for immediateness is the n
atural), then this immediate Goodness, which has not as yet purified itself and
raised itself to the form of absolute spirituality, is Light. For Light is in th
e natural world pure manifestation, determination of self by self, but in an ent
irely simple, universal manner.
If Brahma had to be represented in a sensuous fashion, he could only be represen
ted as abstract space. Brahma has not as yet, however, the force within himself
to be independently represented, but has as his realisation the empirical consci
ousness of man.
The fact that the Good at which we have arrived is still supposed to have essent
ially a natural form, although certainly it is nature in the pure form of Light,
presents a certain difficulty. But Nature cannot possibly be left out by Spirit
; it essentially belongs to Spirit.
God, too, as inherently concrete, as pure Spirit, is at the same time essentiall
y Creator and Lord of nature. Thus the Idea in its Notion, God in His essential
Being itself, must posit this reality, this external existence which we call Nat
ure. The moment of naturalness, therefore, cannot be dispensed with, only it exi
sts here as yet in an abstract form in this immediate unity with the Spiritual,
the Good, just because the Good is as yet this abstraction.
The Good contains determinateness within itself, and in determinateness is the r
oot of natural existence. We say, " God creates the world." Creation is this sub
jectivity to which determinateness in general pertains. It is in this activity o
r subjectivity that the essential character of nature lies, and indeed in the mo
re definite relation which implies that that nature is something created. This d
oes not, however, as yet exist nere. What is present here is abstract determinat
eness.
This determinateness has essentially the form of nature generally, of Light, and
of immediate unity with the Good ; for the Immediate is itself just the Abstrac
t, because determinateness is merely this universal, undeveloped determinateness
.
Light, accordingly, has darkness standing over against it. In Nature these two c
haracteristics are separate from one another in this fashion. This is the impote
nce of nature, namely, that light and its negation lie side by side, although, i
ndeed, light is the power to drive away darkness. This determination in God is i
tself as yet that element of impotence which, because of its abstraction, is not
as yet able to contain and endure the opposition, the contradiction within itse
lf, but has the Evil alongside of it. Light is the Good and the Good is light ;
this is the indivisible unity which we have here.
But light is in conflict with darkness, with evil, which it is to overcome, thou
gh ideally only, for it does not actually succeed in doing this.
Light is an infinite expansion, it is as rapid as Thought ; but in order that it
s manifestation be real, it must strike upon something that is dark. Nothing is
made manifest by pure light ; only in this Other does definite manifestation mak
e its appearance, and with this, Good appears in opposition to Evil. This manife
station is a determining but not as yet concrete development of determination ;
the concreteness of determination is therefore outside of it, because of its abs
traction it has its determination in the Other. Without the opposition Spirit do
es not exist, and in the development of Spirit the point of importance is merely
as to the position this opposition assumes relatively to mediation and to the o
riginal unity.
Thus the Good in its universality has a natural form, namely, this pure manifest
ation of nature, Light. The Good is the universal determinateness of things. Sin
ce it is thus abstract subjectivity, the moment of particularity or singularity,
the moment, the mode, by which it is for Other, is itself as yet in sensuous pe
rception something externally present, which, however, may come to be adequate t
o the content, for all particularity is taken up into the Universal ; particular
ity of this more precise kind, in accordance with which it is the mode of percep
tion, the mode of immediateness, is then capable of seeming adequate to the cont
ent. Brahma, for example, is merely abstract thought ; looked upon in a sensuous
way, he would, as has been already stated, correspond merely with the perceptio
n of space, a sensuous universality of perception which is itself merely abstrac
t. Here, on the contrary, the substantial element is commensurate with the form,
and the latter is then physical universality light, which has darkness over aga
inst it. Air, breath, &c., are also determinations which are physical, but they
are not in this way the Ideal itself, are not universal individuality, subjectiv
ity. It is in light which manifests itself that we have the moment of self-deter
mination, of individuality, of subjectivity. Light appears as light generally, a
s universal light, and then as nature in a particular specific form ; nature in
the form of special objects reflected into itself as the essential element of pa
rticular things.
Light must not here be understood as meaning the sun. It may indeed be said that
the sun is the most prominent light, but it stands beyond and above us as a par
ticular body, as a special individual object. The Good, the light, on the contra
ry, has within itself the root of subjectivity, but only the root ; accordingly,
it is not posited as thus individual, existing apart by itself ; and thus light
is to be taken as subjectivity, as the soul of things.
(b.) This religion as it actually exists.
This Religion of Light or of the immediate Good is the religion of the ancient P
arsis, founded by Zoroaster. There still exist some communities who belong to th
is religion in Bombay and on the shores of the Black Sea, in the neighbourhood o
f Baku, where those naphtha springs are specially frequent, in the accidental pr
oximity of which some have imagined they find an explanation of the fact that th
e Parsis have chosen fire as an object of worship. Prom Herodotus and other Gree
k authors we derive some information regarding this religion, but it is only in
later times that a more accurate knowledge of it has been arrived at by the disc
overy of the principal and fundamental books (Zend-Avesta) of that people by the
Frenchman Anquetil du Perron : these books are written in the ancient Zend lang
uage, a sister language to Sanscrit.
Light, which is worshipped in this religion, is not a symbol of the Good, an ima
ge or figure by which the Good is represented ; it might, on the contrary, just
as well be said that the Good is the symbol of light. Neither of the two is outw
ard sign or symbol, but they are directly identical.
Here among the Parsis worship makes its appearance. Substantiality here exists f
or the subject in its particularity : man as a particular form of the Good stand
s over against the universal Good, over against light in its pure, as yet undist
urbed, manifestation, which the Good as natural concrete existence is.
The Parsis have also been called fire-worshippers. This designation is to a cert
ain degree incorrect, for the Parsis do not direct their worship to fire as devo
uring material fire, but only to fire as light, which as the truth of the materi
al appears in an outward form.
The Good as an object, as something having a sensuous shape, which corresponds w
ith the content which is as yet abstract, is Light. It has essentially the signi
fication of the Good, the Ptighteous ; in human form it is known as Ormazd, but
this form is as yet a superficial personification here. Personification exists,
that is to say, so long as the form as representing the content is not as yet in
herently developed subjectivity. Ormazd is the Universal, which in an external f
orm acquires subjectivity ; he is light, and his kingdom is the realm of light.
The stars are lights appearing singly. "What appears being something particular,
natural, there at once springs up a difference between that which appears and t
hat
It was in that Anquetil du Perron saw a facsimile of four leaves of the Oxford M
S. of the Vendedad Sadah, and after years of heroic effort and persevering toil,
in he published the first European translation of the Zend-Avesta TK. S. which
is implicit, and what is implicit then becomes a something Particular, a genius
also. Just as universal light is personified, so particular lights come to be pe
rsonified too. Thus the stars are personified as genii; in one aspect they are w
hat appears, and then are personified as well ; they are not differentiated, how
ever, into light and into the Good ; on the contrary, it is the collective unity
which is personified : the stars are spirits of Ormazd, of the universal light,
and of the inherently existing Good.
These stars are called the Amshaspands^ and Ormazd, who is universal light, is a
lso one of the Amshaspands. The realm of Ormazd is the realm of light, and there
are seven Amshaspands in it. These might perhaps suggest the planets, but they
are not further characterised in the Zend-Avesta, and in none of the prayers, no
t even in those directed to them individually, are they more particularly specif
ied. The lights are the companions of Ormazd, and reign with him. The Persian St
ate itself, too, similarly with this realm of light, is described as the kingdom
of righteousness and of the Good. The king, too, was surrounded by seven magnat
es, who formed his council, and were thought of as representatives of the Amshas
pands, in the same way as the king was conceived to be the representative of Orm
azd. The Amshaspands govern, changing place day by day, in the realm of light wi
th Ormazd ; consequently what is posited here is merely a superficial distinctio
n of time.
To the Good or the kingdom of light belongs all that has life ; that which in al
l beings is good is Ormazd ; he is the life-giving element through thought, word
, and deed. Here we still have Pantheism in so far as the Good, light, substance
, is in everything; all happiness, blessing, felicity meet together in it ; what
ever exists as loving, happy, strong, and the like, that is Ormazd. He bestows t
he light on all beings, upon trees as upon noble men, upon animals as upon the A
mshaspands. The sun and the planets are the first chief spirits or deities, a he
avenly people, pure and great, shielding all, beneficent to all, shedding benedi
ction upon all being rulers by turns over the world of light. The whole world is
Ormazd in all its stages and varied existence, and in this kingdom of light all
is good. To light belongs everything, all that lives, all essential being, all
spiritual existence, the action, the growth of finite things, all is light, is O
rmazd. In this is not merely sensuous life, life in general, but strength, spiri
t, soul, blessedness. In the fact that a man, a tree, an animal lives and rejoic
es in existence, possesses an affirmative nature, is something noble, in this co
nsists their glory, their light, and this it is which is the sum and essence of
the substantial nature of every individual existence.
The manifestation of light is worshipped, and in connection with this the elemen
t of locality has a value for the Parsi. Advantage is taken, for example, of the
plains upon which naphtha wells abound. Light is burnt upon the altars ; it is
not a symbol, but is rather the presence of the ineffable, of the Good. All that
is good in the world is thus reverenced, loved, worshipped, for it is esteemed
as the son, the begotten of Ormazd, in which he loves himself, pleases himself.
In like manner hymns of praise are addressed to all pure spirits of mankind. The
se are called Fravashis, and are either beings still in the body and still exist
ing, or dead beings, and thus Zoroaster's Fravashi is entreated to watch over th
em. In the same way animals are worshipped, because they have life, light in the
m. In worshipping these, the genii, spirits, the affirmative element of living n
ature, is brought into prominence and reverenced as the ideals of the particular
 kinds of things, as universal subjective forms, which represent the Divine in a
finite way. Animals are, as already stated, objects of worship, but the ideal
The word which Hegel uses is Ferver, but he evidently means Fravashis. is the he
avenly bull, which, among the Hindus, is the symbol of procreation, and stands b
eside Siva. Among fires, it is the sun that is specially worshipped ; among moun
tains, too, there is a similar ideal Alborg, the mountain of mountains. Thus in
the Parsi's view of things there exists an active present world of the Good, ide
als which are not beyond this world, but are in existence, are present in actual
things.
Everything that is alive is held in reverence as Good, but only the good, the li
ght in it, not its particular form, its finite transitory mode of existence. The
re is a separation between the substantial element and what belongs to the peris
hable. A distinction is posited in man too ; a something higher is distinguished
from the immediate corporeal, natural, temporal, insignificant character of his
external Being, of his existence. This is represented by the Genii, Fravasltis.
Among trees, there is one which is specially marked off Horn, the tree from whi
ch flow the waters of immortality. Thus the State is the manifestation of the su
bstantial, of the realm of light, the prince being the manifestation of the supr
eme light, while the officials are the representatives of the Spirits of Ormazd.
The above distinction is, however, a surface one ; the absolute one is that bet
ween Good and Evil.
It may ba also mentioned that one among the helpers of Ormazd is Mitra, the yueo
-/r>/?, mediator. It is curious that Herodotus, even in his time, makes special
mention of this Mitra ; yet in the religion of the Parsis, the characteristic of
mediation, reconciliation does not seem as yet to have become prominent. It was
not until a later period that the worship of Mithras was more generally develop
ed in its complete form, as the human spirit had become more strongly conscious
of the need of reconciliation, and as that need had become keener and more defin
ite.
Among the Piomans in Christian times Mithras-worship. was very widely spread, an
d so late as the Middle Ages" we meet with a secret Mithras-worship ostensibly c
onnected with the order of the Knights-Templars. Mithras thrusting the knife int
o the neck of the ox is a figurative representation belonging essentially to the
cult of Mithras, of which examples have been frequently found in Europe.
c.Worship.
The worship belonging to this religion results directly from the essential chara
cter of the religion. The purpose of it is to glorify Ormazd in his creation, an
d the adoration of the Good in everything is its beginning and end. The prayers
are of a simple and uniform character, without any special shades of meaning. Th
e principal feature of the cultus is that man is to keep himself pure as regards
his inner and outer life, and is to maintain and diffuse the same purity everyw
here. The entire life of the Parsi is to be this worship ; it is not something i
solated, as among the Hindus. It is the duty of the Parsi everywhere to promote
life, to render it fruitful and keep it gladsome ; to practise good in word and
deed in all places ; to further all that is good among mankind, as well as to be
nefit men themselves ; to excavate canals, plant trees, give shelter to wanderer
s, build waste places, feed the hungry, irrigate the ground, which, from another
point of view, is itself subject and genius.
Such is this oue-sidedness of abstraction.
. The. Syrian Religion, or the Religion of Pain.
We have just been considering the ideas of strife and of victory over evil. We h
ave now to consider, as representing the next moment or stage, that strife as Pa
in. " Strife as pain" seems a superficial expression ; it implies, however, that
the strife is no longer an external opposition only, but is in a single subject
, and within that subject's own feeling of itself. The strife is, accordingly, t
he objectifying of pain. Pain is, however, in general terms the course or proces
s of finitude, and, from a subjective point of view, brokenness of heart. This p
rocess or course of finitude, of pain, strife, victory, is a moment or stage in
the nature of Spirit, and it cannot be absent in the sphere under consideration,
in which power continuously determines itself toward spiritual freedom. The los
s of one's own self, the contradiction between self-contained Being and its " Ot
her," a contradiction which annuls itself by absorption into infinite unity for
here we can think of true infinitude only the annulling of the opposition, these
are the essential determinations in the Idea of Spirit which now make their app
earance. It is true that we are now conscious of the development of the Idea, of
its course as well as of its moments or stages, whose totality constitutes Spir
it. This totality, however, is not as yet posited, but obtains expression in mom
ents which in this sphere present themselves successively.
The content not being as yet posited in free Spirit, since the moments are not a
s yet gathered together into subjective unity, it exists in an immediate mode, a
nd is thrown out into the form of Nature ; it is represented by means of a natur
al progressive process, which, however, is essentially conceived of as symbolica
l, and consequently is not merely a progressive process in external nature, but
is an universal progressive process as contrasted with the point of view which w
e have hitherto occupied, and from which not Spirit but abstract Power is seen t
o be what rules. The next element in the Idea is the moment or stage of conflict
. It is the essential nature of Spirit to come to itself out of its otherness an
d out of the overcoming of this otherness, by the negation of the negation. Spir
it brings itself forth ; it passes through the estrangement of itself. But since
it is not as yet posited as Spirit, this course of estrangement and return is n
ot as yet posited ideally, and as a moment or stage of Spirit, but immediately,
and therefore in the form of what is natural.
This determination, as we have seen it, has acquired a definite form in the reli
gion of the Phoenicians and in the religions of anterior Asia generally. In thes
e religions the Process which has been spoken of is contained, and in the religi
on of the Phoenicians the succumbing to death, the estrangement of the god from
himself, and his resurrection are brought into special prominence. The popular c
onception regarding the Phcenix is well known : it is a bird which burns itself,
and from out of its ashes there comes a young Phcenix in new vigour and strengt
h.
This estrangement, this otherness, defined as a natural negation, is death, but
death that is at the same time annulled, since out of it there issues a revival
and renewal of life. It is the eternal nature of Spirit to die to self, to rende
r itselif finite in Nature, and yet it is by the annulling of its natural existe
nce that it comes to itself. The Phoenix is the well-known symbol of this. What
we have here is not the warfare of Good with Evil, but a divine process which pe
rtains to the nature of God Himself, and is the process in one individual. The m
ore precise form in which this progressive process definitely appears is represe
nted by Adonis. This representation has passed over to Egypt and Greece, and is
mentioned in the Bible, too, under the name of Thammus (l^-D), Ezek. viii. , " A
nd behold there sat women weeping for Thammus." One of the principal festivals o
f Adonis was celebrated in spring ; it was a service in honour of the dead, a fe
ast of mourning which lasted several days. For two whole days Adonis was sought
for with lamentation ; the third day was a joyous festival, when the god had ris
en again from the dead. The entire festival has the character of a solemn feast
of Nature, which expires in winter and awakens again in spring. Thus in one aspe
ct this is a natural process, but looked at in the other aspect it is to be take
n symbolically as a moment of God, as descriptive of the Absolute in fact
The myth of Adonis is associated even with Greek mythology. According to the lat
ter, Aphrodite was the mother of Adonis. She kept him as a child of tender years
concealed in a little chest, and took this to Ais. Persephone, however, would n
ot give back the child out of the chest when the mother demanded it. Zeus decide
d the dispute by ordering that each of the goddesses was to keep Adonis for a th
ird part of the year. The last third was to be left to his own choice ; he prefe
rred to spend that time also with the universal mother and his own, namely, Aphr
odite. As regards its direct interpretation, this myth, it is true, has referenc
e to the seed lying under the ground, and then springing up out of it. The myth
of Castor and Pollux, whose abode is alternately in the nether world and upon th
e earth, has also reference to this. Its true meaning, however, is not merely th
e alternation of Nature, but the transition generally from life, from affirmativ
e Being, to death, to negation, and then again the rising up out of this negatio
n the absolute mediation which essentially belongs to the notion or conception o
f Spirit.
Here therefore this moment of Spirit has become religion.
. The Religion of Mystery.
The form which is peculiar to the religions of anterior Asia is that of the medi
ation of Spirit with itself, in which the natural element is still predominant ;
the form of transition where we start from the Other as representing what Natur
e in general is, and where the transition does not yet appear as the coming of S
pirit to itself. The further stage at which we have now arrived is where this tr
ansition shows itself as a coming of Spirit to itself, yet not in such a way tha
t this return is a reconciliation, but rather that the strife, the struggle, is
the object, as a moment, however, of the Divinity itself.
This transition to spiritual religion contains, it is true, concrete subjectivit
y within itself ; it is, however, the free, unregulated play of this simple subj
ectivity ; it is the development of it, yet a development which is still, as it
were, in a wild and effervescent state, and has not as yet arrived at a state of
tranquillity, at the true spirituality which is essentially free.
As in India the parts of this development were seen in an isolated state, so her
e the determinateness is in its detached state, but in such wise that these elem
entary powers of the Spiritual and the Natural are essentially related to subjec
tivity, and so related that it is one single subject which passes through these
moments.
In the Indian religions, also, we had origination and passing away, but not subj
ectivity, return into the One, not One which itself passes through these forms a
nd differences, and in them and from out of them returns into itself. It is this
higher Power of subjectivity which, when developed, lets the element of differe
nce go out of itself, but when enclosed within itself holds fast, or rather over
powers the difference.
The one-sidedness of this form consists in the absence of this pure unity of the
Good, of the state of return, of self-contained Being. This freedom which we ha
ve here merely goes forth, merely impels itself forwards, but is not as yet, so
to speak, complete, perfect, is not as yet such a beginning as would bring forth
the end, the result. It is, therefore, subjectivity in its reality, not as yet,
however, in true, actual freedom, but in a state of fermentation going in and o
ut of this reality.
The dualism of light and darkness begins to come to unity here, and in such a wa
y that this dark, this negative element, which, when intensified, even becomes e
vil, is included within subjectivity itself. It is the essential nature of subje
ctivity to unite opposite principles within itself, to be the force or energy wh
ich is able to endure this contradiction, and to dissolve it within itself.
Ormazd has always Ahriman confronting him ; we also find the idea, it is true, t
hat Ahriman is at last overcome, and Ormazd alone reigns ; but that is merely ex
pressed as something in the future, not as anything that belongs to the present.
God, Essence, Spirit, the True, must be present, not transported in idea into t
he past or the future. The Good and this is the most immediate demand must also
be posited in actual fact as real power in itself, and being conceived of as uni
versal, must thus be conceived of as real subjectivity.
What we have at the present standpoint is this unity of subjectivity, and the fa
ct that by means of these distinguished moments, affirmation passes through nega
tion itself, and ends with return into itself and reconciliation ; in such a way
, however, that the action of this subjectivity is more the mere effervescence o
f it than the subjectivity which has actually attained to itself completely, and
already reached its consummation.
One single subject constitutes this difference, a something concrete in itself,
one development. Thus this subjectivity imports itself into developed powers, an
d so unites them that they are set free. This subject has a history, is the hist
ory of life, of Spirit, of movement within itself, in which it breaks up into th
e differentiation of these powers, and in differentiation this subject converts
itself into what is heterogeneous relatively to itself.
Light does not become extinct, does not set, but here it is one single subject,
which alienates itself from itself, is arrested in the negativity of itself, but
reinstates itself by its own act in and from out of this estrangement. The resu
lt is the conception of free Spirit, not yet, however, as true ideality, but, to
begin with, as merely the impulse to bring the ideality into actual existence.
Here we have reached the ultimate determination of natural religion in this sphe
re, arid in fact the stage which constitutes the transition to the religion of f
ree subjectivity. When we examine the stage of Parsiism, we perceive it to be th
e resumption of the finite into the essentially existent unity in which the Good
determines itself. This Good is, however, only implicitly concrete, the determi
nateness is essentially simple, not as yet determination made manifest ; or, in
other words, it is still abstract subjectivity, and not as yet real subjectivity
. Accordingly, the next moment is, that outside of the realm of the Good, Evil h
as been given a determinate character. This determinateness is posited as simple
, not developed ; it is not regarded as determinateness, but merely as universal
ity, and therefore the development, the difference is not as yet present in it a
s differentiated ; what we find rather is that one of the differentiated element
s falls outside of the Good. Things are good merely as lighted up on their posit
ive side only, not, however, on the side of their particularity also. We now, in
accordance with the Notion, approach more nearly to the realm of real actual su
bjectivity.
(a.) The characterisation or determination of the Notion of this stage.
Material is not wanting for the determinations ; on tJae contrary, even in this
concrete region that material presents itself with a determinate character. The
difference lies merely in this, namely, whether the moments of totality exist in
a purely superficial, external form, or whether they have their being in the in
ner and essential element ; that is to say, whether they exist merely as superfi
cial form and shape, or are posited, and thus thought of as the determination of
the content. It is this that constitutes the enormous difference. In all religi
ons we meet with the mode of self-consciousness, to a greater or less degree, an
d further with the predicates of God, such as omnipotence, omniscience, &c. Amon
g the Hindus and Chinese we meet with sublime descriptions of God, so that highe
r religions have no superiority over them in this respect : these are so-called
pure conceptions of God (such, for example, as those in Friedrich von Schlegel's
" Weisheit der Indier "), and are regarded as survivals of the perfect original
religion. In the Religion of Light, too, we have already found that evil in an
individual form is everywhere done away with. Subjectivity we have observed ever
ywhere at the same time in the concrete determination of self-consciousness. Eve
n at the stage of magic, the power of self-consciousness was above Nature. What
really constitutes the special difficulty in the study of religion is that we ha
ve not to do here, as in logic, with pure thoughtdeterminations, nor with existi
ng ones, as in Nature, but with such as are not wanting in the moment of self-co
nsciousness, of finite spirit in fact, since they have already run their course
through subjective and objective Spirit. For religion is itself the self-conscio
usness of Spirit regarding its self, and Spirit makes the different stages of se
lf-consciousness themselves, by which Spirit is developed into the object of con
sciousness for itself. The content of the object is God, the absolute Totality,
and therefore the entire manifoldness of matter is never wanting. It is'necessar
y, however, to seek more precisely for definite categories, which form the diffe
rences of the religions. This difference is especially sought for in the mode of
working of the Essence ; this last is everywhere, and yet is not ; it is furthe
r made to turn on the question as to whether there is or is not one God. This di
stinction is just as little to be relied upon, for even in the Indian religion t
here is to be found One God, and the difference then merely consists in the mode
in which the many divine forms bind themselves together into unity. There are s
everal Englishmen who hold that the ancient Indian religion contains the idea of
the unity of God as a sun or universal soul. But predicates of the understandin
g such as these don't help us here. When such predicates are given to God, we do
not by the help of these determinations get a knowledge of Him in His true natu
re. They are even predicates of finite Nature; for it, too, is powerful, is wise
. Taken as representing a knowledge of God, they would be extended over finite m
atter through the All. In this way, however, the predicates lose their definite
meaning and are transient, like the Trimurti in Brahma. What is essential is con
tained in the One, in what is substantial, immanent ; it is essential determinat
ion, which is conceived and known as such. These are not the predicates of refle
ction, not external form, but Idea (Idee).
Thus we have already had the determination of subjectivity, of self-determinatio
n, but merely in a superficial form, and not yet as constructing the nature of G
od. In the Religion of Light, this determination was abstract universal personif
ication, because in the Person the absolute moments are not contained as develop
ed or unfolded. Subjectivity is just abstract identity with self, is Being-withi
n-itseif, which differentiates itself, but which is likewise the negativity of t
his difference, which latter maintains itself in the difference, does not let it
escape out of itself, retains its sway over it, is in it, but in it independent
ly, has the difference within it momentarily.
i. If we consider this in relation to the next form, subjectivity is this negati
vity which relates itself to itself, and the negative is no longer outside of th
e Good, but rather it must be contained, posited in the affirmative relation to
self, and thus is, in fact, no longer the Evil. Therefore the negative, Evil, mu
st now no longer exist outside of the Good. It is just the essential nature of G
ood to be Evil, whereby of course Evil no longer remains Evil, but as Evil relat
ing itself to itself, annuls its evil character and constitutes itself into Good
. Good is that negative relation to itself as its other by which it posits Evil,
just as the latter is the movement which posits its negation as negative, that
is to say, which annuls it. This double movement is subjectivity. This is no lon
ger that which Brahma is ; in Brahma these differences merely vanish, or, in so
far as the difference is posited, it is found as an independent god outside of B
rahma.
The first and essentially universal form of subjectivity is not the perfectly fr
ee, purely spiritual subjectivity, but is still affected by Nature. It is thus,
it is true, universal Power, but power which merely exists implicitly, such as w
e have hitherto met with. As subjectivity it is, on the contrary, posited actual
power, and is so conceived of when it is taken as exclusive subjectivity.
The distinction lies between power which is implicit and power so far as it is s
ubjectivity. This last is posited power, is posited as power existent in its own
right. We have already had power under every form. As a first fundamental deter
mination it is a crude power over what has a bare existence ; then it is the inn
er element only, and the distinctions or differences appear as self-sustained ex
istences outside of it ; existences which have, it is true, proceeded out of it,
but which outside of it are independent, and which would have vanished, in so f
ar as they were comprehended in it. Just as distinctions vanish in Brahma, in th
is abstraction, when self-consciousness says, " I am Brahma" and from that momen
t everything that is divine, all that is good, has vanished in him, so the abstr
action has no content, and the latter, in so far as it is outside of it, moves u
nsteadily about in a state of independence. In relation to particular existences
, power is the active agent, the basis ; but it remains the inner element merely
, and acts in a universal way only. That which universal power brings forth, in
so far as it is implicit, is also the Universal, the Laws of Nature; these belon
g to the power which is potentially existent. This power acts ; it is implicit p
ower, its working likewise is implicit, it acts unconsciously, and existing thin
gs, such as sun, stars, sea, rivers, men, animals, &c., appear as independent ex
istences ; their inner element only is determined by the power. Power can only s
how itself in this sphere as in opposition to the laws of nature, and here, acco
rdingly, would be the place of miracles. But among the Hindus there are no mirac
les, for they have no rational intelligent Nature. Nature has no intelligent co-
relation ; everything is miraculous, and therefore there are no miracles. These
latter cannot exist until the God is determined as Subject, and as Power which h
as independent Being, and works in the manner characteristic of subjectivity. Wh
ere potentially existent Power is represented as subject, it is of no consequenc
e in what form it appears ; accordingly it is represented in human beings, in an
imals, &c. That vital force acts as immediate power cannot in any case be denied
, since as power which is implicitly existent it works invisibly without showing
itself.
From this power actual power must be distinguished ; i/the latter is subjectivit
y, and in it two principal characteristics are to be observed.
The first is that the subject is identical with itself, and at the same time pos
its definite distinct determinations within itself. There is one subject of thes
e distinctions ; they are the moments of one subject. The Good is thus the unive
rsal self-determination which is so entirely universal that it has the very same
undifferentiated extent as Essence; determination is, in fact, not posited as d
etermination. To subjectivity belongs selfdetermination, and this means that the
determinations present themselves as a plurality of determinations; that they h
ave this reality in relation to the Notion, in contrast to the simple self -invo
lved Being of subjectivity. But at first these determinations are still enclosed
within subjectivity, are inner determinations. The second moment is that the su
bject is exclusive, is negative relation of itself to itself, as power is, but i
n relation to an Other. This Other is capable, too, of appearing as independent,
but it is involved in this that the independence is only a semblance of indepen
dence, or else it is of such a kind that its existence, its embodiment, is merel
y a negative relatively to the power of subjectivity, so that this last is what
is dominant. Absolute power does not hold sway; where there is the exercise of r
uling authority, the Other is swallowed up. Here the latter abides, but obeys, s
erves as a means.
The unfolding of these moments has now to be further considered. This process is
of such a kind that it must arrest itself within certain limits, and for this r
eason especially, that we are as yet only in the transition to subjectivity ; th
e latter does not appear in a free and truthful form ; there is still an intermi
xture here of substantial unity and subjectivity. On the one hand, subjectivity
does indeed unite everything; on the other hand, however, since it is as yet imm
ature, it leaves the Other outside, and this intermixture has therefore the defe
ct of that with which it is still entangled, namely, the religion of nature. In
reference to the nature of the form in which Spirit has its self-consciousness c
oncerning itself as the object of its consciousness, the stage now before us pre
sents itself as the transition from the earlier forms to the higher stage of rel
igion. Subjectivity does not as yet exist on its own account or for itself, and
is consequently not yet free, but it is the middle point between substance and f
ree subjectivity. This stage is therefore full of inconsistencies, and it is the
problem of subjectivity to purify itself. This is the stage of Mystery or enigm
a.
In this fermenting process all the moments present themselves. For this reason t
he consideration of this standpoint of thought possesses especial interest, beca
use both stages, the preceding one of the religion of nature and the following o
ne of free subjectivity, appear here in their principal moments, the two being n
ot yet severed. Accordingly there is here merely what is mysterious and confused
, and by means of the Notion alone can the clue be obtained which indicates to w
hich side such heterogeneous elements tend to come together, and to w r hich of
the two sides the principal moments belong.
The God is still the inner nature here, implicit power, and for that reason the
form this power may wear is accidental, is an arbitrary one. This merely implici
tly existent power may be invested with this or the other human or animal form.
The power is unconscious, active intelligence, which is not spiritual. It is mer
e Idea, not subjective Idea, however, but vitality void of consciousness in fact
, life. This is not subjectivity, is not self, in fact ; but if life is to be pr
esented as outward form at all, the form that lies nearest at hand for the purpo
se is that of some living creature. Within life in general the living, in fact,
lies hidden ; what particular living creature, what animal, what human being thi
s may be is a matter of indifference. We thus find zoolatry present at this stag
e, and. indeed, in the greatest variety : in different localities different anim
als are held in reverence or worshipped.
From the point of view of the Notion it is of more importance that the subject i
s determined immanently within itself, is in its reflection into itself, and thi
s determination is no longer the universal Good, though it certainly is the Good
, and thus has Evil over against it. The next stage, however, is that actual sub
jectivity posits differences in its determination, that differentiated Good is p
osited here, an inner content ; and this content is of a definite and not of a m
erely general or universal character. Not until differences can exist for me, no
t until possibility of choice is present, and only to the extent in which this i
s the case, is the subject an actual subject, or, in other words, does freedom b
egin. In this way the subject stands for the first time above particular ends, i
s free from particularity, when the latter has not the range of subjectivity its
elf, is no longer universal Good. ]t is another thing when the Good is at the sa
me time made determinate, and is exalted into infinite wisdom. Here a plurality
of Good is determined, and thus subjectivity occupies a position of superiority,
and it appeals as its choice to desire one thing or the other; the subject is p
osited as deciding, and it appears as the determining of ends and of actions.
The God as substantial unity does not appear as acting ; he annihilates, begets,
is the basis of things, but does not act. Brahma, for example, does not act ; i
ndependent action is either merely imagined, or else pertains to the changing in
carnations. Yet it is only a limited end or purpose which can come in here ; the
subjectivity is merely the primal subjectivity, of which the content cannot as
yet be infinite truth.
It is at this point, too, that the outward form is determined as human, and thus
there is a transition of the god from the animal to human form. In free subject
ivity the form which directly corresponds with such a conception is the human on
e alone ; it is no longer life only, but free determination in accordance with e
nds, therefore the human character appears as the form, it may be a particular s
ubjectivity, a hero or an ancient king, &c. Here where the particular ends make
their appearance as in the first form of subjectivity, the human form is not of
the indefinite kind represented by Ormazd. On the contrary, specialised forms ma
ke their appearance, which have special ends, and are characterised by an elemen
t of locality. The principal moments coincide with this. That is to say, to spea
k more precisely, developed definite character must show itself in the subject ;
the definite ends of action are limited, defined, are not determinateness in it
s totality. Determinate character must, however, show itself in the subject in i
ts totality too ; developed subjectivity must be beheld in it. The moments are n
ot, however, the totality of the form, but present themselves in the first place
as a sequence, as a course of life, as different states of the subject. Not unt
il later does the subject as absolute Spirit arrive at the stage at which its mo
ments are potential or implicit totality. Here the subject is still formal, stil
l limited as regards determinate character, although Form in its entirety belong
s to it, and thus there is still this limitation, that the moments are developed
into form as states only, and not each one for itself as a totality ; and it is
not eternal history which is beheld in the subject as constituting the subject'
s nature, but merely the history of states or conditions. The first is the momen
t of affirmation, the second is negation, the third is the return of negation in
to itself.
. The second moment is the one which is of most importance here. Negation shows
itself as a certain state of the subject ; it is its alienation, death, in fact.
The third is restoration, return to sovereignty. Death is the most immediate wa
y in which negation shows itself in the subject, in so far as the latter has mer
ely natural form generally, and also definitely existing human form. Further, th
is negation has besides the further characteristic that since what is here is no
t eternal history, is not the subject in its totality, this death comes to indiv
idual existence as it were by means of an Other, and from without, by means of t
he evil principle.
Here we have God as subjectivity generally, and the most important moment in it
is that negation is not found outside, but is already within the subject itself,
and the subject is essentially a return into itself, is selfcontained existence
, Being which is at home with itself. This self-contained condition includes the
difference which consists in positing and having an Other of itself negation bu
t likewise, in returning into itself, being with self, identical with itself in
this return.
There is One subject ; the moment of the negative, in so far as it is posited as
natural in the character of what belongs to nature, is death. It is therefore t
he death of the god, and this characteristic presents itself for the first time
here.
The negative element, this abstract expression, has very many determinations it
is change, in fact ; change also contains partial death. In the natural sphere t
his negation shows itself as death ; thus negation is still in the natural spher
e, and not as yet purely in Spirit, in the spiritual subject as such.
If it is in Spirit, this negation shows itself in the human being itself, in Spi
rit itself as this determination, namely, that its natural will is for it anothe
r will ; it distinguishes itself in its essence, in its spiritual character from
its natural will. This natural will is here negation, and man comes to himself,
is free Spirit, in overcoming this natural character, in having the natural par
ticularity, this Other of rationality reconciled with rationality, and so being
at home with himself, not outside of himself.
It is only by means of this movement, of this course of thought, that such inner
harmony, such reconciliation, comes to exist. If the natural will shows itself
as Evil, then negation shows itself as something found. Man, in the act of raisi
ng himself to his true nature, finds this natural determination to be something
opposed to what is rational.
A higher conception, however, is that negation is that which is posited by Spiri
t. Thus God is Spirit, in that He begets His Son, the Other, posits the Other of
Himself, yet in Him is still with Himself, and beholds Himself, and is eternal
love. Here the negation is likewise the transient or vanishing element. This neg
ation in God is therefore that definite essential moment. Here, however, we have
only the general idea of subjectivity, subjectivity in the general sense. Thus
it comes to pass that the subject itself passes through these different states a
s its own states, in such a way that this negation is immanent in it. Then this
determination, in so far as this negation appears as a natural state, enters as
the determination of death, and the god appears here in the character of subject
ivity in his eternal history, and shows himself to be the absolute Affirmative,
which itself dies the moment of negation. He becomes alienated from himself, los
es himself, but through this loss of himself finds himself again, returns to him
self.
In this religion, then, it is one and the same subject which passes through thes
e different determinations. The negative, which we had iu the form of the Evil O
ne, Ahriman, implying that negation does not belong to the self of Orrnazd, belo
ngs here to the self of the god.
We have already had negation in the form of death too. In Hindu mythology there
are many incarnations ; Vishnu especially is the history of the world, and is no
w in the eleventh or twelfth incarnation. The Dalailama in like manner dies ; In
dra, too, the god of the natural sphere dies, and there are others who die and c
ome back again.
But this dying is different from the negativity which is in question here, namel
y, death in so far as it pertains to the subject. As regards this difference, al
l depends en the logical determinations. In all religions analogies may be found
, such ideas as those of God becoming man and of incarnations. The name Krishna
has even been put side by side with that of Christ. Such comparisons, however, a
lthough the objects compared have something in common, some similar characterist
ic, are utterly superficial. The essential thing on which all depends is the ful
ler characterisation of the distinction, which last is overlooked.
Thus the thousandfold dying of Indra is of a different kind from that above refe
rred to. The Substance remains one and the same ; it forsakes merely the particu
lar individual body of the one Lama, but has directly chosen ior itself another.
This dying, therefore, this negation, has nothing to do with Substance, it is n
ot posited in the Self, in the subject as such. The negation is not an actual in
ner moment, an immanent determination of Substance, and the latter has not the p
ain of death within itself.
Here, for the first time, we have the death of the god as something within himse
lf, implying that the negation is immanent in his essential nature, in his very
self, and it is precisely owing to this that this god is essentially characteris
ed as Subject. The nature of a subject is to give itself this otherness within i
tself, and through negation of itself to return to itself, to produce itself.
This death appears at first as something undignified ; we have the idea that it
is the lot of the finite to pass away, and in accordance with this idea death, i
n so far as it is spoken of in connection with God, is only transferred to Him a
s a determination out of the sphere of that finite which is inadequate to Him. G
od does not in this way get to be truly known, but rather is debased by the dete
rmination of negation. Over against that assertion of the presence of death in t
he divine stands the demand that God should be conceived of as a supreme Being,
only identical with himself, and this conception is reckoned as the highest and
most honourable, so that it is only at the end that Spirit reaches it. If God be
thus conceived as the Supreme Being, He is without content, and this is the poo
rest possible idea of Him, and quite an antiquated one. The first step of the ob
jective attitude is the step to this abstraction, to Brahma, in whom no negativi
ty is contained. Good, light, is likewise this abstraction, which has the negati
ve only outside of itself as darkness. From this abstraction an advance is alrea
dy made here to the concrete idea of God, and in this way the moment of negation
enters, at first in this peculiar or special mode as death, inasmuch as God is
now beheld in human form. And thus the moment of death is to be ranked high, as
an essential moment of God Himself as immanent in Essence. To self-determination
belongs the moment of inner, not outward negativity, as is already implied in t
he expression " self-determination." The death which here comes into prominence
is not like the death of the Lama, of Buddha, of Indra, and other Indian deities
, whose negativity is an external one, and approaches them as a power that is ex
ternal to them. It is a sign that there has been an advance toward conscious spi
rituality, to knowledge of freedom, to the knowledge of God. This moment of nega
tion is an absolutely true moment of God. Death, then, is a peculiar special for
m, in which negation makes its appearance in an outward shape. By reason of the
divine totality the moment of immediate form must become recognised in the divin
e Idea, for to it there must be nothing wanting.
Thus the moment of negation is immanent in the divine Notion, because it essenti
ally belongs to it in its outward manifestation. In the other religious we have
seen that the essential nature of God is merely determined as abstract Being-wit
hin-itself, absolute substantiality of Himself. There death is not thought of as
belonging to substance, but is regarded merely as external form, in which the g
od shows himself. It is quite otherwise when it is an event which happens to the
god himself, and not merely to the individual iu whom he presents himself. It i
s thus the essential nature of God which comes into prominence here in this dete
rmination.
. But now, further, we have in close connection with this the idea that God rest
ores himself, rises from the dead. The immediate god is not God. Spirit is alone
what, as being free in itself, exists by its own act,what posits itself. This c
ontains the moment of negation. The negation of the negation is the return into
self, and Spirit is the e-ternal return into self. Here then at this stage we co
me upon Reconciliation. Evil, death, is represented as vanquished, God is conseq
uently once more reinstated, restored again, and as thus eternally returning int
o himself is he Spiiit.
(b.) The concrete idea belonging to this stage.
In this religion, as it actually exists in the religion of the Egyptians, there
occur an infinite variety of forms or figures. But the soul or animating princip
le of the Whole is what constitutes the chief characteristic, and it [_ is broug
ht into prominence in the principal figure. This is Osiris, who in the first pla
ce, it is true, has negation opposed to him as external, as other than himself,
as Typhon. This external relation is not, however, permanent in the sense of bei
ng only a strife such as that carried on by Ormazd ; on the contrary, negation m
akes its entrance into the subject itself.
The subject is slain, Osiris dies, but he is eternally restored again, and he is
thus posited in popular conception as born a second time, this birth not having
a natural character, but being posited as something apart from what is natural
or sensuous. He is consequently posited, defined as belonging to the realm of ge
neral ideas, to the region of the Spiritual, which endures above and beyond the
finite, not to the natural sphere as such.
Osiris is the God of popular conception, the God conceived of or mentally repres
ented in. accordance with his inner character. Accordingly in the idea that he d
ies, but is likewise restored, it is expressly declared that he is present in th
e realm of general ideas as opposed to mere natural being.
But he is not only conceived of in this way ; he becomes known too as such. That
does not mean the same thing. As represented in the form of idea, Osiris is def
ined as the ruler in the realm of Amenthes ; as he is lord of the living, so als
o is he lord of what no longer continues in sensuous existence, but of the conti
nuously existing soul, which has severed itself from the body, from what is sens
uous, perishable. The kingdom of the dead is the realm where natural being is ov
ercome, the realm of ideas or ordinary thought where what is preserved is precis
ely that which has not natural existence.
Typhon, Evil, is overcome, and likewise pain, and Osiris is the judge in accorda
nce with law and justice. Evil is overcome, is condemned ; and with this the act
of judgment makes its first appearance, and does so as what decides ; that is t
o say, Good has the power to assert itself, and to annihilate the non-existent,
the evil.
If we say Osiils is a ruler of the dead, the dead are in 'this case just such as
are not held to be in the sensuous natural sphere, but have independent continu
ous existence in a region beyond what is sensuous and natural. Connected with th
is is the fact that the individual subject is known as continuous, as something
withdrawn from the region of the transitory, as something having a fixed, indepe
ndent existence, something distinguished from what is sensuous.
That is a thoroughly weighty saying of Herodotus regarding immortality, namely,
that the Egyptians were the first to declare that the soul of man is immortal. W
e find this continued life, this metamorphosis in India and China, but this, lik
e the continued life of the individual, the immortality of the Hindus, is itself
merely some% thing subordinate and unessential. What is with them highest is no
t an affirmative permanent duration, but is Nirvana, continuous existence in the
state of annihilation of the Affirmative, or only a semblance of affirmation, t
he being identical with Brahma.
This identity, this union with Brahma, is at the same time a melting away into t
his unity, which is, it is true, seemingly affirmative, and yet is in itself utt
erly devoid of determination and without differentiation. But what we have here
as a logical deduction is this : the highest form of consciousness is subjectivi
ty as such ; this is totality, and is able to exist independently in itself ; it
is the idea of true independence or self-existence.
We call that independent or selfsustained which is not in a condition of opposit
ion, which rather overcomes that opposition, does not contain a finite over agai
nst itself, but has this opposition within itself, yet at the same time has conq
uered there. This determination of that subjectivity which is objective, which p
ertains to the objective, namely, to God, is also the determination of the subje
ctive consciousness. This consciousness knows itself as subject, as totality, tr
ue independent existence, and consequently as immortal. With this knowledge the
higher destiny of man dawned upon consciousness.
This negation of the negation, namely, that death is slain, that the evil princi
ple is vanquished, is thus a determination of supreme moment. Among the Parsis t
hat principle is not overcome, but the Good, Ormazd, stands opposed to the Evil,
Ahriman, and has not yet arrived at this reflection. It is here in the Egyptian
 religion that the vanquishing of the evil principle is for the first time posit
ed.
Herewith, accordingly, that determination comes in which was mentioned above, an
d which we have already recognised, namely, that this one who is born again, is
represented directly afterwards as having departed ; he is ruler in the kingdom
of Amenthes ; as he is Lord of the living, so also is he Judge of the dead in ac
cordance with right and justice. Here for the first time right and morality come
in, in the determination of subjective freedom ; both, on the contrary, are wan
ting in the God of substantiality. So then there is a penalty or punishment here
, and the individual worth of man, which determines itself in accordance with mo
rality and right, comes into prominence.
Around this Universal play an infinite number of popular conceptions of deities.
Osiris is only one of these conceptions, and according to Herodotus is even one
of the latest ; but it is principally in the realm of Amenthes as ruler of the
dead, as Serapis, that he has risen above all other gods as an object of supreme
interest. Herodotus, following the statements of the priests, gives a series of
Egyptian gods, and Osiris is to be found here among the later ones. But the fur
ther development of the religious consciousness takes place also within a religi
on itself, and we have already seen in the Indian religion that the worship of V
ishnu and Siva is of later date. In. the sacred books of the Farsis Mithras is p
ut among the other Amshadspans, and stands the same level with them ; but Herodo
tus already gives prominence to Mithras, and at the time of the Romans, when all
religions were brought to Rome, the worship of Mithras was one of the principal
religions, while the service of Ormazd had not anything like the same importanc
e.
Among the Egyptians, too, in the same manner Osiris is said to be a deity of lat
er date. It is well known that in the time of the Romans, Serapis, a special for
m of Osiris, was the principal deity of the Egyptians, and yet, although it was
in later times that the idea of him dawned upon the human mind, he is none the l
ess the deity in whom the totality of consciousness disclosed itself.
The antithesis contained in the Egyptian view accordingly next loses its profoun
d meaning and becomes a superficial one. Typhon is physical evil and Osiris the
vitalising principle; to the former belongs the barren desert, and he is conceiv
ed as the burning wind, the scorching heat of the sun. Another antithesis is the
natural one of Osiris and Isis, the sun and the earth, which is regarded as the
principle of procreation generally. Thus Osiris too dies, is vanquished by Typh
on, and Isis seeks everywhere for his bones : the god dies, here again is this n
egation. The bones of Osiris are then buried ; he himself, however, has now beco
me ruler of the kingdom of the dead. Here we have the course of living nature, a
necessary cycle returning into itself. The same cycle belongs also to the natur
e of Spirit, and the fate of Osiris exhibits the expression of it. Here again th
e one signifies the other. To Osiris the other deities attach themselves ; he is
the uniting point, and they are only single moments of the totality which he re
presents. Thus Ammon is the moment of the Sun, which characteristic also pertain
s to Osiris. There are besides a great number of deities which have been called
the deities of the calendar, because they have a relation to the natural revolut
ions of the year. Particular periods of the year, like the vernal equinox, the e
arly summer, and the like, are brought into prominence and personified in the de
ities of the calendar.
Osiris, however, signifies what is spiritual, not only what is natural ; he is a
lawgiver, he instituted marriage, taught agriculture and the arts. In these pop
ular conceptions are found historical allusions to ancient kings : Osiris conseq
uently contains historical features too. In the same way the incarnations of Vis
hnu seem to point to the conquest of Ceylon in the history of India.
Just as the special characteristics represented by Mithras as being the most int
eresting were brought into prominence, and the religion of the Parsis became the
worship of Mithras, so Osiris has become the central point here; not, however,
in the immediate, but in the spiritual and intellectual world.
What has been said implies that subjectivity exists at first in the form of idea
or ordinary thought here. We have to do with a subject, with a spiritual being
conceived after a human fashion. This subject is not, however, a man in his imme
diate character, his existence not being posited in the immediacy of human thoug
ht, but in that of popular conception or ordinary thought.
It is a content which has moments, movement in itself, by means of which it is s
ubjectivity, but is also in the form, on the plane of spirituality, exalted abov
e the Natural. Thus the Idea (Idee) is posited in this region of general concept
ion, but is marked by the deficiency consequent on its being merely a conception
formed by subjectivity, by subjectivity as resting on an abstract basis.
The depths of the universal antithesis are not in it as yet ; subjectivity is no
t yet grasped in its absolute universality and spiritual nature. Thus it is supe
rficial, external universality.
The content which is in idea or ordinary thought is not bound to time ; it is po
sited in the region of Universality. The sensuous particularity which implies th
at a thing exists at a definite time or in definite space is stripped off. Every
thing, since it rests on a spiritual basis, owing to the presence of general ide
as, has universality, although very little of the sensuous is stripped off as, f
or example, in the idea of a house. The Universality is thus external Universali
ty only, the possession of certain common features.
That external Universality is still the predominating principle here, is intimat
ely connected with the fact that the foundation, this idea of Universality, is n
ot as yet absolutely immersed in itself, is not as yet a filled up or concrete b
asis in itself, which absorbs everything, and by means of which natural things a
re posited ideally.
In so far as this subjectivity is the Essence, it is. the universal basis, and t
he history which the subject is becomes known at once as movement, life, as the
history of all things, of the immediate world. And so we have the distinction wh
ich is implied in the fact that this universal subjectivity is also the basis fo
r the Natural. It is the inner Universal, that which is the Substance of the Nat
ural.
We have, therefore, two elements here, the Natural element and the inner Substan
ce, and in this we have what characterises symbolism. To natural Being a foundat
ion other than itself is attributed ; what is immediate and sensuous acquires an
other substance. It is no longer itself as immediate, but represents or means so
mething Other than itself, which is its substance, its meaning.
Now in this abstract relation of things the history of Osiris is the inner essen
tial history of the Natural too of the nature of Egypt. To this belong the sun,
its course in the heavens, the Nile, which fertilises and which fluctuates. The
history of Osiris is therefore the history of the sun ; the sun goes onward till
it reaches its culminating point, then it returns ; its rays, its strength, bec
ome feeble, but afterwards it begins to lift itself up again it is born anew.
Thus Osiris signifies the sun and the sun Osiris, the sun being conceived of as
this cycle. The year is considered as the single subject, which in its own histo
ry runs its course through these diverse states. In Osiris what belongs to natur
e is conceived of as being a symbol of the subject's history.
Thus Osiris is the Nile, which increases, renders everything fruitful, overflows
, and through the heat here the evil principle comes into play becomes small and
impotent, then again recovers its strength. The year, the sun, the Nile are con
ceived as this cycle which returns into itself.
The special aspects of such a course are represented as existing momentarily apa
rt and in independence, as a multitude of gods who indicate particular aspects o
r moments of this cycle. Now, if it be said that the Nile is the inner element,
that the meaning of Osiris is the sun, the Nile, and the other gods are calendar
deities, such a statement would not be without truth. The one is the kernel, th
e other what outwardly represents it, the sign, the signifier, by means of which
this inner element manifests itself externally. At the same time, however, the
course of the Nile is universal history, and they may be taken as standing to ea
ch other in a reciprocal relation, the one as the inner element and the other as
the form of representation or of apprehension. What really is that' inner eleme
nt is Osiris, the subject, this cycle which returns into itself.
In this mode of representing the truth it is the symbol which is the dominant fa
ctor. We have an independent inner element which has an external mode of existen
ce, and these two are distinct from one another. It is the inner element, the su
bject, which is free here, which has become independent, in order that that inne
r element may be the substance of what is external, and may not be in contradict
ion with it, may not be a dualism, but be the signification, the independently s
elf-existing idea, in contrast to the sensuous mode of existence in which last i
t constitutes the central point.
The representation of subjectivity in this definite shape as the central point i
s closely connected with the impulse to give the idea visible form. The idea as
such must express itself, and it is man who must bring this meaning out of himse
lf and give it a visible form. The immediate has already vanished if it is suppo
sed to appear under the conditions of sense-perception or in some particular mod
e of immediacy, and the general idea is under the necessity of giving itself com
pleteness in this way. If the general idea thus integrates itself; this immediac
y must be of a mediated character, a production of man.
Formerly we had visibility, immediacy in a natural unmediated mode, where Brahma
has his existence, the mode of his immediacy in thought, in the immersion or si
nking down of man into himself. Such was the case too where the Good is light, a
nd therefore in the form of an immediacy which exists in an immediate mode.
Since here, however, the starting-point is ordinary thought or idea, this must g
ive itself to a definite sensuous form, and must bring itself to immediacy. It i
s, however, a mediated immediacy, because it is an immediacy posited by man. It
is the inner element which is to be brought to immediacy : the Nile, the course
of the year, are immediate existences, but they are symbols only of the inner el
ement.
Their history, as natural, is gathered up and comprised within idea, this unific
ation, this course appearing as one subject, and the subject itself is intrinsic
ally the returning movement already spoken of. This cycle is the subject, which
idea is, and which as the subject is to make itself perceptible by sense.
(c.) Worship or cultus.
The impulse just described may be regarded as representing in general the cultus
of the Egyptians, this endless impulse to work, to describe or represent outwar
dly what is as yet only inward, contained in idea, and for this reason has not b
ecome clear to the mind. The Egyptians worked on for thousands of years. First o
f all they put their soil into order ; but the work which has relation to religi
on is the most amazing that has ever been accomplished, whether upon the earth o
r under it. Think of the works of art still in existence, but in the form of par
ched and arid ruins, which, however, on account of their beauty and the toil whi
ch their construction represents, have been a source of astonishment to all the
world.
It has been the task, the deed of this people to produce these works ; there was
no pause in this production ; we see the spirit labouring ceaselessly to render
its idea visible to itself, to bring into clearness, into consciousness, what i
t inwardly is. This restless industry of an entire people is directly based upon
the definite character which the god has in this religion.
First of all we may recall how, in Osiris, spiritual moments too are revered, su
ch as justice, morality, the institution of marriage, art, and so forth. Osiris
is, however, in a special sense the lord of the realm of the dead, judge of the
dead. A countless number of pictures or representations are to be found in which
Osiris is delineated as judge, while before him. is a scribe, who is reckoning
up for him the deeds of the soul brought into his presence. This realm of the de
ad, that of Amenthes, constitutes a principal feature in the religious conceptio
ns of the Egyptians. As Osiris, the life-giving, was opposed to Typhon, the anni
hilating principle, and was the sun of the earth, so the antithesis of the livin
g and the dead makes its first appearance here. The realm of the dead is just as
fixed a conception as the realm of the living. The realm of the dead discloses
itself when natural Being is overcome ; it is just there that what has no longer
natural existence persists.
The enormous works of the Egyptians which still remain to us are almost entirely
those only which were destined for the dead. The celebrated labyrinth had as ma
ny chambers above as beneath the ground. The palaces of the kings and priests ha
ve been transformed into heaps of rubbish, while their tombs have bid defiance t
o time. Deep grottos extending several miles in length are to be found hewn in t
he rock for the mummies, and all the walls are covered with hieroglyphics. But t
he objects which excite the greatest admiration are the pyramid' temples for the
dead, not so much in memory of them, as in order to serve them as burial-places
and as dwellings. Herodotus says that the Egyptians were the first who taught t
hat souls are immortal. It may occasion surprise that, although the Egyptians be
lieved in the immortality of the soul, they yet devoted so much care to their de
ad : one might think that man, if he holds the soul to be immortal, would no lon
ger have special respect for his body. But, on the contrary, it is precisely tho
se peoples who do not believe in an immortality who hold the body in slight este
em after its death, and do not provide for its preservation. The honour which is
shown to the dead is wholly dependent upon the idea of immortality. If the body
falls into the power of the forces of nature, which are no longer restrained by
the soul, yet still man does not wish, at least that nature, as such, should be
that which exerts its power and physical necessity over the exanimated body, th
at noble casket of the soul. Man's desire is, on the contrary, that he himself s
hould exert this power over it. Men accordingly endeavour to protect it against
nature as such, or give it themselves, by their own free will, as it w.ere, back
to the earth, or else annihilate it by means of fire. In the Egyptian mode of h
onouring the dead and preserving the body, there is no mistaking the fact that m
an knew himself to be exalted above the power of nature, and therefore sought to
maintain his body against this power, in order to exalt it above it too. The me
thods followed by peoples in their treatment of the dead stands in the closest c
onnection with the religious principle, and the different customs which are usua
l at burial are not without bearings of very great importance.
In order then to understand the peculiar position of Art at this stage, we have
to recollect that subjectivity does, as a matter of fact, begin to appear here,
but as yet only so far as its basis is concerned, and that its conception or ide
a still passes over into that of substantiality. Consequently the essential diff
erences have not yet mediated and spiritually permeated each other ; on the cont
rary, they are as yet mixed together. Several noteworthy features may be specifi
ed which elucidate this intermixture and combination of what is present and of l
iving things with the Idea of the Divine, so that either the Divine is made into
something present, or on the other hand into something human ; and in fact here
even animal forms become divine and spiritual moments Herodotus quotes the Egyp
tian myth that the Egyptians had been ruled by a succession of kings who were go
ds. In this there is already the mixing together of the ideas that the god is kn
own as king, and again the king as god. Further, we see in the countless number
of the representations of art which portray the consecration of

ii THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

kings, that the god appears as the consecrator and the king as the son of this g
od ; then the king himself too is found represented as Ammon. It is related of A
lexander the Great that the oracle of Jupiter Ammon declared him to be the son o
f that god. This is quite in accordance with the Egyptian character, for the Egy
ptians said the very same of their kings. The priests were esteemed at one time
as the priests of the gods, and then as God himself also. Many monuments and ins
criptions remain even from later times, where the Ptolemaic king is always and o
nly called the son of god, or God himself. The same thing happened in the case o
f the Eoman Emperors.
Astonishing certainly, yet considering the mixture of the conception of substant
iality with that of subjectivity, no longer inexplicable, is that Zoolatry the p
ractice of which was carried out by the Egyptians in the most rigid manner. In v
arious districts of Egypt special animals were worshipped, such as cats, dogs, m
onkeys, and so forth ; and this worship was even the occasion of wars between th
e various districts. The life of such animals was held absolutely sacred, and to
kill them was to incur severe punishment. Further, dwelling-places and estates
were granted to these animals, and provisions laid up for them : indeed, it even
happened in a time of famine that human beings were permitted to die rather tha
n that those stores should be invaded. The apis was most of all held in reverenc
e ; for it was believed that this bull represented the soul of Osiris. In the co
ffins in some of the pyramids, apis bones were found carefully preserved. Every
form of this religion and every shape taken by it is mingled with zoolatry. This
worship of animals is undoubtedly connected with what is most offensive and hat
eful. But it has been already shown in connection with the religion of the Hindu
s how man could arrive at the stage in which he worships an animal. If God be no
t known as Spirit, but rather as po^Yer in general, then

DEFINITE RELIGION
this power is unconscious activity universal life, it may be. This unconscious p
ower then appears under an outward form, and first of all in that of an animal.
An animal is itself something devoid of consciousness, it leads a dull, still li
fe within itself, as compared with human caprice or free-will, so that it may ap
pear as if it had within itself this unconscious power which works in the whole.

Especially peculiar and characteristic, however, are the forms under which the p
riests or scribes so frequently appear in plastic representations and paintings
with animal masks ; and the same is the case with the embalmers of mummies. This
duplicate form, an external mask concealing another form underneath it, intimat
es that the consciousness is not merely sunken in dull, animal life, but also kn
ows itself to be separated from it, and recognises in it a further signification
.
In the political state of Egypt, too, we find the struggle of Spirit seeking to
extricate itself from immediateness. Thus history frequently mentions the confli
cts of the kings with the priestly caste, and Herodotus speaks of these even fro
m the earliest times. King Cheops caused the temple of the priests to be shut up
, while other kings reduced the priestly caste to complete subjection and exclud
ed them from all power.
This opposition is no longer Oriental ; we see here the human free-will revoltin
g against religion. This emergence from a state of dependence is a trait which i
t is essential to take into account.
It is especially, however, in naive and highly pictorial representations in arti
stic forms that this struggling on the part of Spirit and its emergence from Nat
ure, are expressed. It is only necessary to think of the image of the Sphinx, fo
r example. In Egyptian works of art everything, indeed, is symbolical ; the sign
ificance in them reaches even to the minutest details ; even the number of pilla
rs and of steps is not reckoned in accord ance with external suitability to ends
, but means either the months, or the feet that the Nile has to rise in order to
overflow the land, or something of a similar kind. The Spirit of the Egyptian n
ation is, in fact, an enigma. In Greek works of art everything is clear, everyth
ing is evident ; in Egyptian art a problem is everywhere presented ; it is an ex
ternal sign, by means of which something which has not been yet openly expressed
is indicated.
Even if, however, at this standpoint Spirit is still in a state of fermentation,
and still has the drawback of a want of clearness, and if even the essential mo
ments of religious consciousness are in part mingled with one another, and partl
y in this intermingling, or rather on account of this intermingling, are in a st
ate of mutual strife, yet it is still free subjectivity which here takes its ris
e, and thus it is precisely here that art too, more correctly speaking fine art,
must of necessity make its appearance and is needful in religion. Art, it is tr
ue, is imitation, but not that alone ; it may, notwithstanding, arrest itself at
that, but it is then neither fine art nor does it represent a need belonging to
religion. Only as fine art does it pertain to the Notion of God. True art is re
ligious art, but art is not a necessity where God has still a natural form ; for
example, that of the sun or of a river. It is also not a necessity in so far as
the reality and visibility of God are expressed in the outward shape of a man o
r of an animal, nor when the mode of manifestation is light. It begins, it is tr
ue, when, as in the case of Buddha, the actual human form, has dropped away, but
still exists in imagination ; and thus it has a commencement where there is ima
ginative conception of the divine form, as, for example, in images of Buddha ; i
n this case, however, the Divine is regarded as at the same time still present i
n the teachers, his followers. The human form in the aspect in which it is the a
ppearance of subjectivity, is only then necessary when God is determined as subj
ect. The need begins to exist when the moment of Nature, of immediacy, is overco
me, in the conception of subjective self-determination or in the conception of f
reedom that is to say, at the standpoint which we have now reached. Inasmuch as
the mode of definite Being is determined by means of the inner element itself, t
he natural form is no longer sufficient, nor is the imitation of it sufficient e
ither. All peoples, widi the exception of the Jews and Mahommedans, have images
of their gods ; these, however, do not belong to fine art, but are mere personif
ications of conceptions or ideas, signs of merely conceived or imagined subjecti
vity, where this last does not as yet exist as immanent determination of the Ess
ence itself. Figurate conception or idea has an external form in religion, and f
rom this what is known as pertaining to the Divine Essence is to be essentially
distinguished. In the Hindu religion God has become man ; it is in totality that
Spirit is always present : whether, however, the moments are looked upon as bel
onging to the Essence or as not belonging to it, is what makes all the differenc
e.
It thus becomes a necessity to represent God by means of fine art when the momen
t of naturalness is overcome, when Spirit exists as free subjectivity, and its m
anifestation, its appearance in its definite existence, is determined by means o
f Spirit from within, and exhibits the character of something which is a spiritu
al production. Not until God Himself has the determination of positing the diffe
rences under which He appears, out of His own inner Being, not until then does a
rt enter as necessary for the form given to the god.
Ifconnection with the introduction here of art, two moments specially deserve at
tention : first, that God is presented in art as something capable of being behe
ld by sense ; secondly, that as a work of art the god is something produced by h
uman hands. To our notions, both of these represent modes which are inadequate t
o the Idea of God so far, that is to say, as they are supposed to be the sole mo
de ; for of course we are all aware that God has been outwardly visible to sense
, though only as a transient moment. Art, too, is not the ultimate mode of our w
orship. But for the stage of that subjectivity which is not as yet spiritualised
, which is thus itself as yet immediate, existence which is visible in an immedi
ate way is both adequate and necessary. Here this is the entirety of the mode of
manifestation of what God is for self-consciousness.
Thus art makes its appearance here, and this implies that God is apprehended as
spiritual subjectivity. It is the nature of Spirit to produce itself, so that th
e mode of definite existence is one created by the subject, an estrangement or e
xternalisation which is posited by the act of the subject itself. That the subje
ct posits itself, manifests itself, determines itself, that the mode of determin
ate Being or existence in a definite form is one posited by Spirit, is implied w
hen art is present.
Sensuous existence, in which God is visibly beheld, is commensurate with His Not
ion ; it is not a sign, but expresses in every point that it is produced from wi
thin, that it corresponds with thought, with the inner Notion. But it has the de
fect of being still a sensuously visible mode, that the mode in which the subjec
t posits itself is sensuous. This defect is the consequence of its being as yet
subjectivity in its first form, the primal free Spirit ; its determination is it
s first determination, and thus its freedom is that of what is as yet natural, i
mmediate, primal determination ; that is to say, the moment of Nature, of sense.

The other point is that the work of art is produced by human beings. This, too,
is inadequate to our Idea of God. That is to say, infinite, truly spiritual subj
ectivity, that which exists for itself as such, produces itself by its own act,
posits itself as Other, namely, as its outward form or shape, and this last is p
osited by means of subjectivity itself, and produced freely. But this its assump
tion of form, which to begin with as the = , is as yet reflected into itself, mu
st also have the determination of differentiation expressly in such a way that t
his differentiation is merely determined by means of subjectivity, or, in other
words, that it merely appears in this which is at first still something external
. This first freedom further comes to have an additional element, namely, that t
he outward embodiment produced by the subject is taken back into subjectivity. W
hat is First is thus the creation of the world ; what is Second is the reconcili
ation, namely, that it reconciles itself in itself with the true First. In the s
ubjectivity which is before us at this stage, this return is not as yet present,
its mode of existence being as yet of an implicit character ; its existence as
subject is found outside of it in the form of Beingfor-other. The Idea is not as
yet there ; for to it belongs that the Other should of its own act reflect itse
lf into the primal unity. This second part of the process which pertains to the
divine Idea is not as yet posited here. If we consider the determination as end
or aim, then the primal action of subjectivity regarded as an end is still a lim
ited end ; it has reference to this particular people, this definite particular
end, and if it is to become universal, a truly absolute end, the return is essen
tial, and the doing away with what is merely natural in respect of the outward f
orm is essential likewise. Thus, the Idea is first present when this second part
of the process is added to the first, the part which annuls the natural charact
er, the limitation of the end, and it is owing to this that it becomes for the f
irst time an universal end. Here Spirit as regards its manifestation is only the
half way of Spirit ; it is still one-sided finite Spirit, in other words, subje
ctive Spirit, subjective self-consciousness ; it is the outward form of the god,
the mode of his existence for an " Other." The work of art is merely something
accomplished, posited by the finite spirit, by the subjective spirit, and for th
is reason the work of art must be executed by man. This explains why it is neces
sary that the manifestation of the gods by means of art is a manifestation fashi
oned by human hands. In the religion of absolute Spirit the outward form of God
is not made by the human spirit. God Himself is, in accordance with the true Ide
a, self-consciousness which exists in and for itself. Spirit. He produces Himsel
f of His own act, appears as Being for "Other;" He is, by His own act, the Son ;
in the assumption of a definite form as the Son, the other part of the process
is present, namely, that God loves the Son, posits Himself as identical with Him
, yet also as distinct from Him. The assumption of form makes its appearance in
the aspect of determinate Being as independent totality, but as a totality which
is retained within love ; here, for the first time, we have Spirit in and for i
tself. The self-consciousness of the Son regarding Himself is at the same time H
is knowledge of the Father ; in the Father the Son has knowledge of His own self
, of Himself. At our present stage, on the contrary, the determinate existence o
f God as God is not existence posited by Himself, but by what is Other. Here Spi
rit has stopped short half way. This defect of art, namely, that the god is made
or fashioned by man, is also felt in those religions in which this is the highe
st manifestation, and attempts are made to remedy the defect, not, however, in a
n objective, but in a subjective way. Images of the gods must be consecrated ; a
like by the Negro and the Greek they are consecrated, that is to say, the divine
Spirit is put into them by a process of conjuration. This results from the cons
ciousness, the feeling of defect ; but the mode of remedying it is one which is
not contained in the objects themselves, but comes to them from without. Even am
ong the Catholics such consecration takes place ; of pictures, for example, reli
cs, and the like. This explains the necessity there is that art should make its
appearance here, and the moments indicated are those from which it results that
the god exists as a work of art. Here, however, art is not yet free and pure ; i
t is not as yet even in the process of transition to fine art. In this perverted
state it still presents itself in such a way that outward forms which belong to
immediate nature, and which are not produced by Spirit, such as the sun, animal
s, &c., do just as well as any other for self-consciousness. The artistic form w
hich breaks forth out of an animal, the form of the Sphinx, is more a mixture of
artistic form and animal form. Here a human countenance looks forth upon us fro
m the body of an animal ; subjectivity is as yet not clear or manifest to itself
. The artistic form is therefore not as yet purely beautiful, but is more or les
s imitation and distortion. The general character of this sphere is the intermin
gling of subjectivity and substantiality.
The artistic activity of this whole people was not as yet absolutely pure fine a
rt, but rather the impulse towards the fine art. Fine art contains this determin
ation, namely, that Spirit must have become in itself free free from passion, fr
om the natural life in general, from a condition of subjugation or thraldom prod
uced by means of inner and outer Nature ; it must feel the need to know itself a
s free, and thus to exist as the object of its consciousness.
In so far as Spirit has not yet arrived at the stage of thinking itself free, it
must picture itself as free, must have itself before itself as free Spirit in s
ensuous perception. If it is thus to become an object for sensuous perception in
the mode of immediacy, which is a product, this involves that its definite exis
tence, its immediacy, is wholly determined by means of Spirit, has entirely such
a character as implies that here it is a free spirit which is described.
This, however, is precisely what we call the Beautiful, in which all externality
is absolutely significant and characteristic, and determined by the inner eleme
nt as representing that which is free. We have here a natural material which imp
lies that the features in it are simply tokens of the Spirit which is essentiall
y free. The natural moment must, in fact, be overcome, that it may serve for the
expression, the revelation of Spirit.
While the content in the Egyptian characteristic quality is this subjectivity, t
he impulse present here toward fine art is one which is worked out architectural
ly for the most part, and has at the same time endeavoured to pass over to beaut
y of form. Inasmuch, however, as it was only impulse, beauty itself as such has
not as yet actually appeared here.
Such then is the source of this conflict between the signification and the mater
ial of the external form in general; it is only the attempt, the effort, to stam
p the inward Spirit upon the outward embodiment. The pyramid is an independent c
rystal, in which a dead man dwells ; in the work of art, which is pressing forwa
rd toward beauty, the inner soul is impressed upon the externality of the form e
mployed.
What we have here is simply the impulse, because the signification and actual re
presentation, the mental idea and the actual definite form of existence, are in
fact opposed to one another in this difference, and this difference exists becau
se subjectivity is, to begin with, merely universal, abstract, and is not yet co
ncrete, filled up subjectivity.
The Egyptian religion thus actually exists for us in Egyptian works of art, sinc
e what these tell us is bound up with what is historical, and which has been pre
served to us by ancient historians. In recent times especially, the ruins of the
land of Egypt have been explored in a variety of ways, and the dumb language of
the statues, as also, of the mysterious hieroglyphics, has been studied.
If we must recognise the superiority of a people which has laid up its Spirit in
works of language over one which has only left dumb works of art behind it for
posterity, we must at the same time recollect that here among the Egyptians no w
ritten documents are in existence, for the reason that Spirit had not as yet cla
rified itself, as it were, but was struggling to clear itself of alien elements,
and this in an external way, as appears in the works of art. At last, it is tru
e, after prolonged study, advance has been made in the deciphering of hieroglyph
ics, but, on the one hand, there is still a part of this work which is unaccompl
ished, and on the other hand, they always remain hieroglyphics. Numerous rolls o
f papyrii have been found beside the mummies, and it was at first believed that
a great treasure had been discovered in these, and that we had come upon importa
nt disclosures. These papyrii are, however, nothing else than a species of archi
ves, and contain for the most part deeds of purchase regarding pieces of land, o
r have reference to objects which the person deceased had acquired.
It is, therefore, principally the extant works of art whose language we have to
decipher, and from which a knowledge of this religion may be obtained.
Now, if we contemplate these works of art, we find that everything in them is wo
nderful and fantastic, but always with a definite meaning, which was not the cas
e among the peoples of India. We thus have the immediateness of externality here
, and the meaning, the thought. We have all these elements together in the treme
ndous conflict of the inner with the outer ; there is a tremendous impulse on th
e part of what is inner to work itself free, and what is outer exhibits to us th
is struggle of Spirit.
The form is not as yet exalted into form that is free and beautiful, not as yet
spiritualised into clearness, transparency ; the sensuous, the natural, is not a
s yet so perfectly transfigured into the spiritual as to be merely an expression
of the spiritual, so that this organisation and its features might be mere sign
s, merely the signification of the spiritual. To the Egyptian principle this tra
nsparency of the natural, of the external element of outward embodiment, is want
ing ; what remains is only the task of becoming clear to self, and the spiritual
consciousness as being the inner element merely seeks to struggle out of natura
lness and be free.
The most important representation by which the essential nature of this struggle
is made perfectly plain is the statue of the goddess at Sais, who was represent
ed veiled. It is symbolised in that statue, and in the inscription in her temple
, " I nm what was, is, and shall be ; my veil has been lifted by no mortal," it
is expressly declared that Nature is something differentiated within itself, nam
ely, an Other in contrast to its outward appearance as that immediately presents
itself, an enigma. It has an inner element, something that is hidden. " But," i
t is stated further in this inscription, " the fruit of my body is Helios." This
as yet hidden essence therefore expresses clearness, the sun, the becoming clea
r to oneself, the spiritual sun in the form of the son who is born of her. It is
this clearness which is attained to in the Greek and Jewish religion, in the fo
rmer in art and in the beautiful human form, in the latter in objective thought.
The enigma is solved ; the Egyptian Sphinx, according to a deeply significant a
nd admirable myth, was slain by a Greek, and thus the enigma has been solved. Th
is means that the content is man, free, selfknowing Spirit.

SECOND DIVISION THE RELIGION OF SPIRITUAL INDIVIDUALITY.

The Religion of Nature is the most difficult to get a grasp of, because it lies
farthest from our ordinary thought, and is the crudest and most imperfect form o
f religion. The natural element has such a variety of shapes within itself, that
in the form of naturalness and immediateness the universal absolute content is
broken up. A. TRANSITION TO THE SPHERE OF SPIRITUAL INDIVIDUALITY.
"What is higher is also deeper ; in it the separate moments are grasped together
in the ideality of subjective unity ; the want of connection which characterise
s immediacy is annulled, and the separate elements are brought back into subject
ive unity. For this reason it is necessary that what has the quality of naturaln
ess should manifest such a multiplicity of outward shapes, which exhibit themsel
ves as indifferent and mutually exclusive, as independent and individual forms o
f existence.
The general characteristic is free subjectivity which has satisfied its impulse,
its inner desire. It is free subjectivity which has attained to dominion over t
he finite generally, over the natural and finite elements of consciousness, whet
her physical or spiritual, so that now the subject, that is, Spirit as spiritual
subject, becomes known in its relation to the natural and the finite, while the
latter are in part merely subservient to Spirit, and in part the garment of Spi
rit, and are present concretely in Spirit. Further, as outwardly representing Sp
irit, the natural and finite merely serve as a manifestation and glorification o
f Spirit. Spirit in this freedom, power, reconciliation with itself, exists on i
ts own account, free and untrammelled in the natural ; the external, the finite,
is distinguished from these finite-natural and spiritual elements, from what be
longs to the region of empirical, changeable consciousness, as well as to that o
f external existence.
Such is the general fundamental characteristic of this stage. Spirit being free,
and the finite only an ideal moment in it, it is posited as inherently concrete
, and inasmuch as we look upon Spirit and the freedom of Spirit as concrete, wha
t we have is rational Spirit ; the content constitutes the rationality of Spirit
.
This deterruinateness first referred to, looked at from the point of view of its
content, is in its formal aspect this, namely, that the natural, the finite, ar
e simply witnesses to Spirit, are simply subservient to its manifestation. Here
we have the religion within which rational Spirit is the content.
The next step in advance, therefore, is that the free form of subjectivity, the
consciousness of the Divine, comes into view in an unalloyed and independent for
m, in the character of free subjectivity, so far as this can be in the first for
m of spirituality which has become free. That this last, however, is known exclu
sively for itself, or, in other words, that the Divine is determined on its own
account as subjectivity, represents a purifying from the natural, which has been
already referred to in the' previous discussion. The subject is exclusive ; it
is the principle of infinite negativity, and since as regards its content it is
universal, it leaves nothing existing independently beside it which is devoid of
Spirit, or is merely natural ; and in like manner nothing which is merely subst
antial, essentially devoid of form. Subjectivity is infinite Form ; and as such,
it no more leaves to Form which is not free, that is to say external naturalnes
s, any independent existence along side of it, than it does to empty, pure, unde
termined substantiality. The fundamental determination is that God becomes known
as freely determining Himself within Himself ; still formally, it is true, but
yet already freely within Himself. We fire able to recognise this emergence of f
ree subjectivity in religions and in the peoples to which such religions belong,
principally by observing whether among such peoples universal laws, laws of fre
edom, justice, and morality, constitute fundamental determinations and have the
predominance. God conceived of as subject is conceived of as spontaneously deter
mining himself, i.e., His self-determinations are the laws of freedom ; they are
the determinations of self-determination, and are of such a kind that their con
tent belongs only to the form of free self-determination, and with this is neces
sarily connected the fact that freedom constitutes the content of the laws. When
we perceive this, the element of naturalness or immediacy retires into the back
ground, and inherently universal ends show themselves ends which are inherently
universal, although externally they may be quite unimportant, or, so far as thei
r range is concerned, are not yet universal, just as a man who acts from ethical
motives may perform his actions within a sphere extremely restricted, so far as
its general content is concerned, and yet be essentially moral. The brighter su
n of Spirit makes the natural light pale before it. Thus we pass outside of the
circle of the Religion of Nature. We come to gods who are essentially founders o
f states and marriage, founders of peaceful life, producers of art which origina
tes solely with them, gods who preside over oracles and states, and who originat
e and protect law and morality. The peoples who have reached that stage in the d
evelopment of self-consciousness in which subjectivity is recognised to be the i
deality of the natural, have thereby crossed over into the sphere of ideality, i
nto the kingdom of the soul, and have come to the region belonging to the realm
of Spirit. They have torn from their eyes the bandage of sensuous perception, es
caped from the trackless maze which is devoid of thought, they have laid .hold o
f thought, of the Intellectual Sphere, and have made and secured for themselves
the solid ground in what is inward. They have laid the foundations of the sanctu
ary which in its very nature is firm and stable.
The progress made up to this point has been as follows : We started from the nat
ural desires as seen in the religion of magic, from the authority and power of t
hese desires over Nature, gained simply by individual will which is not determin
ed by thought. The second stage was occupied by the theoretical deterrnination o
f the independence of objectivity, in which accordingly all the moments were set
free and released, and reached the state of independence. In the third stage wa
s found the theoretical or self-determining element, which took back into itself
these moments thus released, so that the practical element is thus made theoret
ical, the Good self-determination, and, finally, the blending of substantiality
and subjectivity.
If we now ask, How has the idea of God been defined so far ? What is God ? What
have we learned about Him ? The answer is as follows :
In accordance with the abstract form of the metaphysical Notion we began thus :
God is the unity of the Infinite and the Finite, and our sole concern is to find
out how particularity and determinateness, i.e., the finite, is incorporated wi
th the infinite. What result have we as regards this point so far reached ? God
is the infinite in general, what is identical with itself, substantial power. Wh
en we start by saying this, it is not implied that fiuitude is as yet posited as
contained in it, and it is, to begin with, the purely immediate existence of th
e infinite self-consciousness. From the fact that God is just infinitude, substa
ntial power, it follows, and it is consciously implied in it, that the substanti
al Power alone is the truth of finite things, and that their truth consists only
in this, that they return into the substantial unity. God is thus, to begin wit
h, the Power referred to, a definition which, being purely abstract, is extremel
y imperfect. The second position is that God is the substantial Power in Himself
, pure Being-for-self, separate from the manifoldness of the finite. This is sub
stantiality which is reflected into itself, and this is the essential conception
of God. With this idea of substantiality which exists within itself and disting
uishes itself from the finite, we have reached higher ground, but here the deter
mination of the true relation of the finite to the substantial Power, whereby th
e latter would itself corne to be tbe infinite, does not yet exist. This inheren
tly existing substantiality is accordingly Brahma, and the independently existin
g finite is represented by the many gods. The third position is that in which th
e finite is posited as identical with substantiality, so that its sphere is of s
imilar extent to that of the latter, and is pure universal form, as substantiali
ty itself is. This is God conceived of as The Good.
Spiritual subjectivity, the conception at which we have how arrived, is the abso
lutely free power of selfdetermination, so that this is nothing else than the No
tion, and has no content but the Notion ; and in this self-determination there i
s nothing beyond the fact that it contains itself. This self-determination, this
content, is accordingly as universal, as infinite, as the Power itself. This un
iversal Power, which now shows itself active in the form of self-determination,
we may call Wisdom. In so far as we have to do with spiritual subjectivity we ha
ve to do with self-determination, with an end, and these are as universal as the
Power, and are thus wise ends. Determination in accordance with an end is direc
tly involved in the conception of free subjectivity. Action which is in accordan
ce with an end is inner self-determination, i.e., it is determination by means o
f freedom, by means of the subject, for there is nothing within but just the sub
ject itself.
This self-determination maintains itself in external existence, natural being ha
s no longer any worth in its immediacy, it belongs to the Power, is a transparen
t medium for it, and has no value for itself. In so far as it takes on an extern
al form and it must externalise itself, subjectivity must give itself reality it
is simply free self-determination which maintains itself in realising itself, i
n external existence, in the natural sphere. In the case of action which is in c
onformity with an end, nothing comes out of it unless what is already there. Imm
ediate existence, on the other hand, is bereft of power, as it were, is form onl
y, is the mode only in which the end is present in it, and it is the end which i
s the inner element.
We find ourselves here accordingly in the sphere of the End, and action which is
in conformity with an end is wise action, since wisdom consists in acting accor
ding to ends which hold good universally ; and no other content is actually pres
ent in it, for it is free subjectivity which determines itself.
The general conception here is that of subjectivity, of power which works in acc
ordance with ends, which is active in fact. Subjectivity, speaking generally, co
nsists in being active, and the end must be a wise one, it must be identical wit
h what determines it, with the unlimited Power.
i. What we have first to consider here is the relation of the subject to Nature,
to natural things, and more particularly to what we previously called Substanti
ality, the Power which has only potential being. This remains something inward,
but subjectivity is Power which has independent actual being, and is different f
rom Power which has potential being and from its reality, namely, Nature. This P
ower which has potential being, Nature, is now degraded to the condition of some
thing powerless, something dependent relatively to the underived Power, or, to p
ut it more definitely, it is made a means. Natural things are deprived of their
own independent existence. Hitherto they had a direct share in Substance, while
now they are in the subjective Power separated from substantiality, distinguishe
d from it, and are regarded as only negative. The unity of the subjective Power
is outside of them, is distinguished from them. They are only means or modes whi
ch have no more value beyond serving for manifestation ; they are the material o
f manifestation and are subject to what manifests itself in them ; they may no l
onger show themselves directly, but must reveal a something higher in them, name
ly, free subjectivity.
. But what is the more definite determination connected with the idea of wisdom
? It is, to begin with, undetermined so far as the end is concerned. We do not a
s yet know of what it consists, what the ends of this Power are, and do not go b
eyond the undefined phrase, the wisdom of God. God is wise, but what are His way
s, His ends ? In order that we may be able to say what they are, the ends must b
e already before us in all their determinateness and definiteness, i.e., in thei
r development as a distinction of moments. So far we have here only determinatio
n in accordance with ends in general.
. Since God is above all things real, we cannot, in considering Him, stop short
at this indeterminateness in wisdom. The ends must be determined. God as subject
manifests Himself, acts, which means that He comes forward into actual existenc
e, into reality. At an earlier stage the unity of infinitude and finitude was re
garded as simply immediate, and was thus the first and best of finite things, su
n, hill, river, &c., and the reality was of an immediate kind. Here it is also n
ecessary that God be in a definite place, i.e., that His end be definite and det
ermined.
In reference to the reality of the end there are two points which call for notic
e. The first is contained in the question, What is the sphere in which this end
can be present ? The end, as being something inward, is merely subjective, is on
ly thought or idea. God, however, as subjective Power, is not simply will, inten
tion, &c., but rather immediate Cause. This sphere of the realisation of the act
ual existence of the end is self-consciousness or the finite spirit. End is dete
rmination in general, and here we have determinations which are merely abstract
and not as yet developed. The finite spirit is accordingly the sphere in which t
he divine end shows itself. Since it is only now that we first reach the thought
of the determination of wisdom in general, we have not any content, anything de
finite, whereby to express what is wise. The end is potential, is yet undetermin
ed in the notion of God, and so we have to take a second and further step, and s
how that the end must become actual, must be realised. There must, therefore, be
determination in it, but the determination is not as yet developed. The determi
nation as such, the development, has not as yet taken an actual form within the
Divine Essence, and for this reason the determination is finite, external, an ac
cidental or particular end. In so far as it exists, it exists in an undefined fo
rm in the divine notion, but so far as it is determined it is an accidental and
entirely limited end ; or, to put it otherwise, what constitutes it is something
outside of the divine notion, an end which can be distinguished from it, not th
e divine end in all its completeness in and for itself, i.e., not an end which w
ould be developed from its own inner nature, and would in its particular forms e
xpress the determinateness of the divine notion.
In studying the Religion of Nature, we saw that in it goodness was as universal
as power; but speaking generally, it does not go beyond expressing the idea of s
ubstantial immediate identity with the Divine Essence, and all things accordingl
y are good and full of light. Here, in the determination of subjectivity, of Pow
er which has independent existence, the end is distinguished from the notion, an
d the definite form given to the end is just for this reason merely accidental,
because the difference has not yet been taken back into the divine notion, is no
t yet considered as equivalent to it. Here, therefore, we have only ends which,
so far as their contents are concerned, are finite, and are not as yet adequate
to express the divine notion. Finite self-consciousness is thus, to begin with,
the region in which they are realised. This is the fundamental characteristic of
the standpoint we have got to.
B. THE METAPHYSICAL CONCEPTION OR NOTION OF THIS SPHERE.
It is the pure abstract thought-determination which forms the basis here. We abs
tract as yet from idea or mental representation, as also from the necessity of t
he realisation of the Notion, a necessity which does not exactly belong to idea,
but is rather one which the Notion itself renders necessary. Here we have the m
etaphysical notion in its relation to the form taken by the Proofs of the Existe
nce of God. The special characteristic of the metaphysical notion, as contrasted
with the foregoing, lies in this, that in the case of the latter we started fro
m the unity of the Infinite and the finite. The Infinite was absolute negativity
, undeveloped Power, and the thought involved in the first sphere and its essenc
e were limited to this definition of infinitude. In that sphere the notion, so f
ar as we are concerned, was undoubtedly that of the unity of the finite and the
Infinite ; but in reference to this stage itself, the Essence was defined simply
as the Infinite. This latter forms the basis, and the finite was merely added t
o it; and just for this reason the determination assumed a natural aspect, and w
as accordingly the Religion of Nature, because the form required natural existen
ce in order to show itself in a definite actual shape. The Religion of Nature al
ready proved also the inadequacy of what is immediately external to express what
is internal. In the conception of the Immeasurable it passed beyond the immedia
te identity of the natural and the Absolute, and also beyond that of immediate B
eing and Essence. But the external form when stretched out to the Immeasurable s
naps, as it were, natural Being vanishes, and begins to exist for itself as the
Universal. Infinitude is not yet, however, immanent determination, and, in order
to represent it, use is still made of natural forms which are external and inad
equate. In proportion as the Natural is posited as existing negatively in the Im
measurable, is it also positive looked at in its finite existence, as opposed to
the Infinite. Or, to put it otherwise, the Immeasurable, which, in proportion a
s everything disappears within it, is in like proportion also powerless, is the
contradiction of Power and powerlessness. In contrast to this, we have now the E
ssence itself defined as the unity of the Infinite and the finite, as true Power
, as infinitude which is concrete in itself, i.e., as the unity of the finite an
d the Infinite. It is this, accordingly, that we have in the determination of wi
sdom which is the Power which determines itself within itself, and this determin
ation is the finite aspect, and thus the Divine is known as what is concrete in
itself, inherently infinite form. This form is the aspect of the finite as poten
tial, but posited here under the aspect of the Infinite. In the concrete idealit
y of the Essence the contradiction referred to as existing in the Immeasurable i
s done away with, since the Essence is a manifestation of itself for itself, and
not an abstract beingfor-self. Posited as Power, it is the absolute negativity
which differentiates itself, but in such a way that the differences are done awa
y with, and are only a semblance. That is powerful which has the soul, the Idea
of the " Other," which the Other is in its immediacy only. Whatever thinks that
which the " Others " only are, constitutes their Power. The Essence (not a parti
cular Essence or one higher Essence) i.e., the Universe as absolute Power is sat
isfied in itself and is Totality, since all other determinations are taken up in
to and absorbed in it. In order to be, it does not have recourse to natural obje
cts, but has a determinate character of its own within itself, and is the totali
ty of its appearance or semblance. Since thus the determination of pure thought
belongs to the determining or characterisation of the Essence itself, it follows
that further advance in characterisation is not connected with the natural mode
or aspect of things, but takes place within the Essence itself. If, accordingly
, we are to find three stages here, then they constitute an advance within the m
etaphysical notion itself. They are moments in the Essence, different forms of t
he notion for the religious self-consciousness which occupies this standpoint. A
t an earlier stage the advance was merely in the external form, here the advance
is within the notion itself. Now, the Divine Essence is actual Essence, Essence
for itself, and the differences are its own reflection of itself into itself. W
e thus get three conceptions. The first is that of Unity, the second that of Nec
essity, the third that of Conforrnability to an End, though of conformability wh
ich is finite and external.
We have (a.) Unity, absolute Power, negativity, which is posited as reflected in
to itself, as existing absolutely for self, or as absolute subjectivity, so that
here, in this particular form of essential being, the sense element is directly
abolished. It is Power which is actual, for itself, and has within it nothing b
elonging to sense, for this latter is the finite, which has not yet been taken u
p into, is not yet absorbed by, the Infinite. Here, however, it is in process of
being absorbed. This subjectivity, which is actual, which exists for itself, is
accordingly the One.
We have (.) Necessity. The One is this absolute Power, and everything is posited
in it as merely negative. This constitutes the conception or notion of the One.
But when we express it thus, development is not as yet postulated. The One is n
othing more than the form of simplicity, and necessity then comes to be the proc
ess of unity itself. It is the unity as inner movement, and is no longer the One
, the unit, but the unity. The movement which constitutes the Notion is the unit
y, the absolute necessity.
We have (c.) Conformability to an End. In absolute necessity is posited or made
explicit the movement which the One is only implicitly. It is the process, and i
t is the process of contingent things, for it is contingent things which are thu
s posited and negated. In necessity, however, it is only the transition, the com
ing and going of things, which is posited. But now it must be further posited th
at these things exist and appear as distinguished from this unity of theirs, fro
m this process of necessity which belongs to them. They must appear, at all even
ts, momentarily as existing, and at the same time as belonging to the power out
of which they do not pass. They are thus means in general, and the unity consist
s in this, that it maintains itself within this process which belongs to it, and
produces itself in these means. This is the unity of necessity itself, but thou
ght of as distinguished from what moves itself, and within which it maintains it
self, so that it has the element of Being only as something negative. Unity is t
hus End in general.
These three points stand in the following relation to each other. Since the Esse
nce is absolute negativity, it is pure identity with itself, the One ; it is at
the same time the negativity of the unity, which, however, is in a relation to t
he unity, and owing to this interpenetration of both shows itself as necessity.
In the third place, the One returns into itself out of the isolation of its diff
erence, a unity, nevertheless, which, as being this selfabsorption of the Form i
nto itself, has a finite content, and in this way, by developing into the differ
ence of the Form as totality, gives us the conception of con for in ability to a
n end, a conformability which is, however, finite.
When it is said that in this are contained the three metaphysical notions or con
ceptions of the three religions, it is not to be supposed that each of these con
ceptions belongs to one religion only. On the contrary, each of these three dete
rminations or characteristics belongs to all three. Where One is the Essence, th
ere too is necessity though only implicit, not in its determinate quality ; and
so, too, if the One determines Himself in accordance with ends, then He is wise.
Necessity is One also, and conformability to an end is present here also, only
it lies outside of necessity. If conformability to an end is the fundamental cha
racteristic, we have along with this the presence of the Power to carry out the
ends, and the end itself is Fate. The point of difference simply is as to which
of these determinations of the object is to be regarded as the Essence, and whet
her this latter is the One, or Necessity, or Power with its ends. The point of d
ifference is simply as to which of them is to pass as the fundamental determinat
ion of the Essence for each religion.
What we have now to consider more definitely is the form in which these determin
ations appear as they have been connected with the proofs of the existence of Go
d.
(a.) The Conception of the One.
Here we have not got to do with the proposition, God is only one ; for it is imp
lied in these words that the One is only a predicate of God ; we have the subjec
t, God, and a predicate outside of which He may have others in addition to this.
That God is only One is a proposition which it is not difficult to prove. Being
passes over into Essence, and this reflected into itself is what has been frequ
ently called an Ens, or Individuum. When we say, God is the One, we mean somethi
ng different from what was expressed formerly in the words, The Absolute Being i
s One, TO eV. Parmenides expressed it thus : Being alone is, or the One only is.
This One, however, is only the abstract Infinite, not the Infinite as reflected
into itself, and is thus rather the Immeasurable and Powerless, for it is the I
nfinite only as compared with actual existence in its infinitely manifold forms,
and its existence is necessarily dependent on this relation. Power at first con
ceived of as the One is in reality the Universal posited as Power. The abstract
One is the one side, and over against it is the manifoldness of the essence of t
he world. The concrete One, on the other hand, is individuality, the Universal,
\vhat is reflected into itself, the other side of which itself comprises all bei
ng in itself, so that it has returned into its own unity.
Reflection accordingly conceives of the unity of God as a characteristic quality
, and seeks to demonstrate it. This, however, does not supply the form in which
to express a proof of the existence of God. The One is distinguished from the su
bstratum, and the point is simply to exhibit the characteristic of Being as One.
Reflection lights upon this idea because One is just reflection into self.
Accordingly this characteristic or determination that God is only One has refere
nce, to begin with, only to the Many with which it is contrasted, and so far als
o to the other Form, which will be dealt with as the second Form belonging to th
is stage. The disproof of the determination which comes later is thus given here
in advance. This second form in itself and in the determination of its notion i
s undoubtedly more concrete; but as definite or determined Being in and for itse
lf when it appears as Necessity is only something that ought to be, an ideal, an
d because it is only what ought to be is thus multiplicity, it has not as yet ab
solute reflection-into-self, and it is wanting in the characteristic of being On
e. Doubtless the characteristic of the One is also as yet one-sided, since it is
only the abstract form in an actual state, for itself, and is not the developed
form in the shape of content.
The development of the necessity of this characteristic of the One, the rising u
p to this one Subject as the One, is carried out thus. Being as One is conceived
 of as predicate, while God is presupposed as subject, and it is then shown that
the characteristic of multiplicity is opposed to the presupposition of this sub
ject. The relation belonging to the Many can thus be considered as consisting in
their reference to each other; they are then thought of as coming into contact
with each other, and getting into conflict with themselves. This conflict is, ho
wever, the appearance of the contradiction itself in an immediate way, for the d
ifferent gods have to maintain themselves in accordance with their own nature or
quality, and it is here that their finitude comes to light. In so far as God is
presupposed as being the Universal or the Essence, that finitude which is invol
ved in the multiplicity is inadequate to express what is contained in that presu
pposition.
In the case of finite things we are accustomed to think that substances may be i
n conflict without losing their independence. It would seem, then, that it is on
ly their superficial elements which they send out to engage in the conflict, whi
le they keep their real selves in the background. In accordance with this a dist
inction is made between the inner nature of the subject and its relations, betwe
en the substance considered in reference to others and the substance as passive,
without prejudice to its aforesaid activity. This distinction is as yet unprove
d. What the many are so far as content and power are concerned, they are only in
contrast with something else ; their Being, as reflected into self, is simply s
omething devoid of content. If they are thus, so far as form also is concerned,
independent, they are, nevertheless, finite so far as the content is concerned,
and this succumbs to the same process of dialectic as that to which finite Being
has to yield. In face of the presupposition of absolute Power, of the universal
negativity of all that has Being, the multiplicity of such formal finite things
accordingly directly disappears. It is directly involved in the presupposition
of the Universal, that form and content cannot be so separated that a quality ca
n attach to the one which is wanting to the other. Thus the gods by means of the
ir qualities directly cancel each other.
Multiplicity is, however, in this case taken also in the sense of pure differenc
e which does not come in contact with itself. Thus we speak of a multiplicity of
worlds which do not come into conflict and are not in contradiction with each o
ther. Ordinary thought obstinately clings to this idea by maintaining that the t
ruth of such a presupposition cannot be controverted because no contradiction is
involved in it. It is, however, really one of the ordinary bad forms of Reflect
ion to say that it is possible to form an idea of anything. It is certainly poss
ible to form to oneself an idea of everything, and to conceive of it as possible
; but that does not mean anything at all. If it be asked wherein the difference
consists, and if the answer is that the one is as powerful as the other, and th
at no one of them is to have qualities which the other also has not, then the di
fference is an empty phrase. The difference must necessarily directly advance ti
ll it becomes a definite or determined difference, and in that case, so far as o
ur reflection is concerned, there is wanting to the one what is peculiar to the
other, but only in so far as our reflection is concerned. Thus the stone, in so
far as we reflect upon it, is not so perfect as the plant, yet there is no defec
t in the stone considered in itself ; it neither feels nor knows anything of its
defect. Thus the difference spoken of is only an idea in our mind, in our refle
ction.
It is in this way, therefore, that Reflection reasons, and its reasoning is corr
ect, but all the same it is likewise inadequate. The Universal, the Essence, is
presupposed under the form of Power, and it is asked if the predicate of the One
attaches to it. The determination of the One is nevertheless already in harmony
with the presupposition, for absolute Power is directly contained in the determ
ination of individuality, of oneness, or the One. The proof is thus quite correc
t but superfluous, and what is overlooked is that the absolute Power itself is a
lready contained in the definition or determination of the One. To prove predica
tes of God is really not the business of the Notion, nor is God in this way to b
e known philosophically.
But as a matter of fact, the true meaning of this notion is not contained in the
proposition that God is One, but rather in the statement that the One is God, s
o that the One exhausts the meaning of this Divine Essence, and is not a predica
te. Nor is it a characteristic along with other characteristics, but, on the con
trary, it is one which fully expresses the Essence in the sense of absolute Powe
r as subjectivity, as reflected into itself. God is thus just this movement of t
he subject from itself and back to itself, the self-determination of itself as t
he One in such a way that subject and predicate are the same, are this movement
within each other, so that there is nothing left which comes between them. This
notion is not adapted to be expressed in the form of a mediation in which the no
tion will appear as a proof of the existence of God, for it is the Infinite, the
absolute negativity from which we start in order to reach the determination of
the One. The One is merely the determination which is attached to it, and which
expresses the thought that this is subjectivity reflected into itself. The movem
ent proceeds, so to speak, only within the potential Being of the Infinite. It i
s, therefore, not in the form of mediation that we have to consider it here. We
certainly might say there is an advance from the Infinite to subjectivity determ
ined within itself, but the beginning is theInfinite, and this Infinite, moreove
r, as the absolute negativity, is the Subject reflected into itself, in which al
l that is manifold is done away with and absorbed. If we wished to look at the m
ediation more closely, we would start from one thought and conceive of the Notio
n in and for itself as Thought, and from this we would go on to the Other, to Be
ing. But here we cannot start from the Notion, for a beginning in this form give
s a different proof of the existence of God, and one which belongs to the Christ
ian religion, and not to the religion under consideration. The One is not yet th
ought of as Notion, not yet thought of as Notion for us ; what is true, posited
concretely in itself, such as we have in the Christian religion, is not as yet p
resent here.
Since the Absolute is thus denned as the One and as Power, self-consciousness is
merely a semblance of the Absolute. It is certainly something for which the Abs
olute manifests itself, and to which it stands in a positive relation, for the r
eflection of Power into itself directly gives repulsion, and this is self-consci
ousness, and thus personality. Self-consciousness begins here to have a certain
value, but still it has only an abstract determination, so that self-consciousne
ss in its concrete form knows itself merely as a semblance of existence. It is i
n bondage, has no extended sphere in itself, no room in which to act ; heart and
mind are hemmed in ; what feeling it has consists only in feeling the Lord ; it
has its existence and finds its happiness only within this narrow enclosure. Ev
en if, as is the case here, the element of difference comes to light, still it i
s held fast ; it does not really break away, and is not set free. Self-conscious
ness concentrates itself only in this one point, and though it knows itself as e
ssentially existing for it is not killed as in Brahma it is at the same time the
non-essential element in the Essence.
(b.) Necessity is something which is self-posited as mediation, and is here acco
rdingly a mediation for selfconsciousness. Necessity is movement, implicit proce
ss, implying that the accidental element in things and in the world is definitel
y characterised as accidental, and thus raises itself to and disappears in neces
sity. When in any religion the absolute Essence is conceived of, or known, or re
vered as Necessity, then this process is present. It might seem as if we had see
n this transition already in the advance of the finite to the Infinite in the fa
ct that the truth of the finite was the Infinite, the absorption of the finite i
n itself into the Infinite, and that in the same way the accidental also returns
into necessity. Whether we regard the determination of the advance of the finit
e to the Infinite or of the accidental to Necessity, the distinction, so far as
the advance is concerned, does not seem at all to be an essential one. As a matt
er of fact, both have the same fundamental determination, so that, from one poin
t of view, this is correct ; but if we regard the matter from another point of v
iew, the difference or distinction is more concrete than that of the earlier for
m of the process. That is to say, if we begin from the finite, then the matter s
tands thus ; but the first beginning is that it has real worth, that it exists a
s Being, or, in other words, we take it to begin with in an affirmative, positiv
e form. Its end is indeed involved in it, but at the same time it still possesse
s immediate Being. " Accidental " already suggests something more concrete, for
what is accidental can either be or not be. The Real is accidental, for it may q
uite as well be possibility, the Being of which lias the value of Not-Being. Thu
s there is posited in the accidental the negation of itself, and it is according
ly a transition from Being into Nothing. Like the finite, it is inherently negat
ive ; but since it is also Not-Being, so too is it the transition from NotBeing
to Being. The characteristic or determination of contingency is thus much richer
and more concrete than that of the finite. The truth of contingency is necessit
y, and this is determinate existence, which has arisen by mediation with itself
through its NotBeing. Eeality is a definite form of existence of this sort, in t
he case of. which the process is-shut in within itself, and which by means of it
self domes into harmony with itself.
In connection with Necessity we have, however, to make the following distinction
s :
i. External necessity is in a peculiar sense contingent necessity. When an effec
t is dependent on causes, then it is necessary ; when one or another set of circ
umstances concurs, then one or another -result must follow. Only circumstances w
hich occasion this are immediate ; and since, regarded from this standpoint, imm
ediate Being has merely the value of possibility, the" circumstances are such as
may or may not be, and so the necessity is relative, and is related thus to the
circumstances which constitute the beginning, and which are accordingly immedia
te and contingent. This is external necessity, which has no higher value than th
at possessed by contingency. It is possible to demonstrate external necessity in
such a way as to show that this or the other thing is necessary, but the circum
stances always remain contingent; they can exist, but they can also not exist. A
tile may fall from the roof and kill a man, but the falling down of the tile, t
he concurrence, may be or may not be ; it is contingent. In this external necess
ity it is the result only which is necessary ; the circumstances are contingent.
These two, the conditioning causes and the results, are for this reason differe
nt. The one is determined as contingent, the other as necessary ; this is the di
fference considered abstractly, but there is also a concrete difference. Somethi
ng results quite different from what was posited ; and since the forms are diffe
rent, so too the content of the two sides is different. The tile falls accidenta
lly ; the person who is killed, the particular concrete subject, his death, and
that act of falling down, are entirely heterogeneous, have a perfectly different
content ; something appears as result which is entirely different from what was
posited. When life is considered according to the conditions of external necess
ity as a result of soil, heat, light, air, moisture, &c., as a product of these
conditions, what is implied is that the matter is being looked at from the point
of view of external necessity. This latter has to be carefully distinguished fr
om the true inner necessity.
. The inner necessity consists just in this, that everything of the nature of ca
use, occasion, occasioning circumstance, is presupposed and definitely distingui
shed, and the result belongs to One. The necessity puts together the two element
s into one unity. All that takes place in this necessity takes place in such a w
ay that nothing results from the presupposed condition, which is different from
these, but rather the process is of such a kind that whatever is presupposed app
ears also in the result, coincides with itself, finds itself; or, to put it othe
rwise, the two moments of immediate existence, and of its being posited, are pos
ited as one moment. In external necessity contingency is substantial or immediat
e existence. What is, is not as being something posited, the conditions do not b
elong to the unity, they are immediate, and the result is only something posited
, is not Being. The effect is what is posited, the cause is what is underived. I
n the true necessity these are a unity ; the circumstances exist, but they not o
nly are, they are also posited by means of the unity, are, as a matter of fact,
contingent, but are this in themselves ; in that they cancel themselves the nega
tion of their Being is the unity of necessity, so that their Being is one which
is implicitly negated. The result is, accordingly, not only result, or only some
thing posited, but it is just because of what thus takes place that the result c
omes to have Being. Necessity is thus the positing of the conditions, they are t
hemselves posited by means of the unity; the result is also something posited, a
nd is this indeed by means of reflection, by means of the process, by means of t
he reflection of the unity into itself; this unity is therefore the Being of the
result. Thus whatever takes place within necessity simply comes into harmony wi
th itself. The unity projects itself outward, disperses itself in circumstances
which appear as if they were contingent; the unity of itself projects its condit
ions as if they were innocent of any connection with it^ as if they were, so to
speak, ordinary stones which appear in an immediate way, and rouse no suspicion
of their being anything else. In the second stage they are posited, they do not
belong to themselves, but to an " Other," to their result. They are thus broken
up in themselves, and the manifestation of their nature as posited is their self
-abrogation, the production of an " Other," the result, namely, which, however,
appears as an " Other " only as opposed to their existence in a scattered form.
The content, however, is one ; the result is what they implicitly are, only the
mode and manner of their appearance are altered. The result is the sum of what i
s contained in the circumstances, and the manifestation of this in a definite fo
rm. It is Life which thus projects its own conditions, means of stimulus, impuls
es, though in that form they do not look as if they were Life, for the inner ele
ment, what is implicit, appears first in the result. Necessity is thus the Proce
ss which implies that the result and the preliminary condition are different onl
y as regards their form.
If we now consider this form and how necessity has come to get the definite shap
e of a Proof of the existence of God, we see that the content is the true Notion
. Necessity is the truth of the contingent world. The more detailed development
of this thought belongs to Logic. The notion of God is the absolute necessity ;
this is a necessary and essential standpoint, not indeed the highest or the real
ly true one, but one from which the higher proceeds, and which is a condition of
the higher notion which itself presupposes it. Thus the Absolute is necessity.
The notion of absolute necessity does not yet correspond to the Idea which we mu
st have of God, but which, however, is to be presupposed in the form of a pictor
ial or general idea. The higher notion or grasp has to grasp, to comprehend itse
lf. There is here a defect in this Proof of the existence of God. So far as the
form of the Proof is concerned in reference to absolute necessity, we find it to
be the well-known Cosmological Proof, which is expressed simply thus : continge
nt things presuppose an absolutely necessary Cause, but contingent things exist,
I and the World are such, therefore there is an absolutely necessary Cause.
The defective element in this Proof is easily seen. The major proposition runs t
hus : Contingent things presuppose an absolutely necessary Cause ; this proposit
ion, taken in a general sense, is quite correct, and expresses the connection be
tween what is contingent and what is necessary, and, in order to obviate captiou
s criticisms which would otherwise be made, one does not require to say they pre
suppose an absolutely necessary Cause, for this expresses a relation between fin
ite things ; but we can say they presuppose the absolutely necessary in such a w
ay that this is conceived of as Subject. The proposition, accordingly, further c
ontains a contradiction in reference to external necessity. Contingent things ha
ve causes ; they are necessary, that by means of which they exist in this form m
ay itself be contingent only, and so we are referred back from the cause to cont
ingent things in endless progression. The proposition cuts short this style of r
easoning, and is perfectly justified in doing so. What is only contingently nece
ssary would be no necessity at all, and the real necessity stands in contrast to
that implied in this proposition. The connection is in a general way correctly
expressed too, contingent things presuppose absolute necessity ; but the mode of
the connection is incomplete, the union being defined as something presupposed
or demanded. This is a connection belonging to untutored reflection, and implies
that contingent things are placed on one side and necessity on the other, and t
hus while a transition is made from the one to the other, both sides are firmly
opposed to each other. Owing to the fixity of Being in this form, contingent thi
ngs become the conditions of the Being of necessity. This is still more plainly
expressed in the minor proposition : There are contingent things, consequently t
here is an absolutely necessary Cause. Since the connection is thus constituted
in such a way that one form of Being conditions the other, it would seem to be i
mplied in this that contingent things condition absolute necessity ; the one con
ditions the other, and thus necessity appears as if it were something whose exis
tence is presupposed as dependent on or conditioned by contingent things. Absolu
te necessity is in this way put in a position of dependence, so that contingent
things remain outside of it.
The true connection is as follows. Contingent things exist, but their Being has
the value merely of possibility ; they are and pass away ; they are themselves s
imply preposited, or have hypothetical existence through the process of unity. T
heir first moment consists in their becoming posited with the semblance of immed
iate existence ; their second moment consists in their being negated, in their b
eing therefore conceived of essentially as appearance. In the Process they are e
ssential moments, and so it may be said that they are the essential condition of
absolute necessity. In the finite world it is true we start from some such imme
diate form of Being, but in the true world external necessity is simply the appe
arance referred to, and what is immediate is merely something posited, dependent
on something else. It is this which constitutes the defect in mediations of thi
s kind which pass for proofs of the existence of God. The really true content co
nsists in this, that the Absolute must come to be recognised as absolute necessi
ty.
. Finally, absolute necessity actually is and contains in itself Freedom ; for i
t consists just in this, that it comes together with, comes into harmony with it
self; ife is absolutely for itself, is not dependent on another ; its action is
free, is simply the act of meeting with or coinciding with itself, its process c
onsists simply in its finding itself ; but this is just freedom. Implicitly, nec
essity is free ; it is only by an illusion that the distinction is made between
it and what results from it. We see this in the case of punishment. Punishment c
omes upon a man as an evil, as force, as the exercise of power which is foreign
to him, and in which he does not find himself. It appears as external necessity,
as something external which falls upon him, and something different from what h
e has done results from it ; punishment follows on his action, but it is somethi
ng different from, other than, what he willed himself. If, however, a man comes
to recognise punishment as just, then it is the consequence and the law of his o
wn act of will which is bound up with his act itself. It is the rationality of h
is act which comes to him under the semblance of an " other ; " he has not to su
bmit to any kind of force ; he bears his own deed, feels himself to be free in i
t, it is his own which cornes to him, justice, the rational element in what he h
as done. It is only, however, implicitly that necessity contains freedom, and th
is is an essential circumstance. It is only formal freedom, subjective freedom,
and this means that necessity has not as yet any content in itself.
Just because necessity is the simple act of coming together with itself, is it f
reedom. We require in connection with it movement, circumstances, &c. This belon
gs to mediation, but when we say, This is necessary, then this is a unity; whate
ver is necessary, is; this is the simple expression, the result, in which the pr
ocess has come together or coincided with itself. It expresses simple relation t
o itself, the act of finding itself; necessity is what is freest ; it is not det
ermined or limited by anything ; all mediations are once more taken up into it a
nd done away with. Necessity is the mediation which freely yields itself up; it
is implicitly freedom. The feeling which finds expression in submitting to neces
sity, as it existed among the Greeks, and as it still exists amongst the Mohamme
dans, certainly contains freedom in it, but it is only potential or formal freed
om : in presence of the necessity here, no content, no purpose, nothing definite
has any value, and it is in this that its defect lies.
Necessity, according to the higher conception and notion of it, real necessity,
is thus just freedom as such, it is the Notion as such ; or, more definitely cha
racterised, it is the End. Necessity, in short, is without content, or, to put i
t otherwise, the difference contained in it is not yet posited ; it is the proce
ss which we have seen, simple Becoming, which only is to contain differences, an
d therefore what is contained in it, though it is certainly difference, is diffe
rence which is not as yet posited. It is something which coincides with itself t
hough only through mediation, and in this way difference in general is posited.
It is, to begin with, only abstract self-determination ; the determinateness or
specialisation is merely something which is to be. In order that the determinate
ness be real, it is necessary that the specialisation and the difference should,
in the act of coinciding with self, be posited as being able to hold out agains
t the transition which goes on in the process, as maintaining themselves in the
necessity. To posit is to give determinateness, and this determinateness, accord
ingly, is what coincides with itself; it is the content which maintains itself.
This act of coinciding, thus characterised as content which maintains itself, is
End.
In this specialisation or determinateness which takes place in the process of co
inciding or coming together, there are two forms of determinateness to be notice
d. The determinateness appears as content which maintains itself going through t
he process without undergoing alteration, and in the act of transition remaining
equal to itself. Accordingly, so far as the determinateness is that of Form, it
appears here in the shape of subject and object. The content is, to begin with,
subjectivity, and the process means that it realises itself in the form of obje
ctivity. This realised end is end, the content remains what it was ; it is subje
ctive, but at the same time objective as well.
(c.) We have thus arrived at the idea of conformity to an end ; it is in the end
that the definite existence of the notion in general begins, the Free existing
as free Being which is at home with itself, what maintains itself, or, to put it
more definitely, the Subject. The Subject determines itself within itself; this
determination, regarded from one point of view, is content, and the Subject is
free in it, is at home with itself, is free from the content, it is its own cont
ent, and the content has value only in so far as the Subject permits. This is th
e Notion taken generally.
The Subject, however, also gives realisation to the Notion. The particularity th
us acquired is at first simple, it is held within the Notion in the form of Bein
g which is at home with itself, and which has returned back into itself. This su
bjectivity, although it is totality, is still at the same time one-sided subject
ive merely, only one moment of the entire form. The characteristic here is that
the content is posited only in the form of the equality of what coincides with i
tself. This form thus defined as that which coincides with itself is the simple
form of identity with self, and the Subject is the totality of Being as thus at
home with itself. But so far as the Subject is concerned, that specialisation wh
ereby it has an end is opposed to totality, and the Subject accordingly seeks to
do away with this form and to realise the end. The realised end, however, remai
ns attached to the Subject ; the latter possesses its own self in it, has object
ified itself, set itself free from its singleness or simplicity, while at the sa
me time maintaining itself in its manifoldness. This is the conception or notion
of conformity to an end.
The world has now to be regarded as being in conformity to an end. We had previo
usly the characterisation that things are contingent, but the higher characteris
ation is the teleological view of the world, the thought of its conformity to an
end. It is possible to accept the first of these characterisations and yet to b
e in doubt as to whether we ought to consider things as being in conformity to a
n end, whether some of them are to be regarded as ends to which other things are
related as means, and it may be maintained that what appears as an end may have
been merely produced mechanically under external conditions.
It is here, in fact, that characterisation of a permanent sort begins. The end m
aintains itself in the process ; it begins and ends, it is something permanent,
something exempted from the process, and which has its basis in the subject. The
contrasted points of view may, accordingly, be put thus. Are we to keep to the
point of view from which things are regarded as determined by other things, i.e.
, by the element of contingency in them, by external necessity, or to that from
which they are regarded as determined by the end ? It has been already remarked
that external necessity stands in contrast to the end, is something which is pos
ited by, whose existence depends on, an " Other ; " the concurrence of circumsta
nces is the producing factor, something different is the result; the end, on the
other hand, is what remains, what gives the impulse, what is active, what reali
ses itself. The conceptions of external necessity and conformity to an end are m
utually opposed.
We saw that external necessity returns back into the absolute necessity which is
its Truth, that this is implicitly freedom, and that whatever is implicit must
be posited. This characteristic appears as subjectivity and objectivity, and thu
s we get the idea of End. "We must therefore say, that in so far as things exist
for us in immediate consciousness, in reflected consciousness, they are to be c
haracterised as in conformity to an end, as having an end in themselves. The tel
eological view of things is an essential one ; but this way of regarding things
is at once seen to have in it a distinction, that between inner and outer necess
ity, and the inner again can itself, in accordance with its content, be a finite
conformity to an end, and thus it comes to be once more included within the rel
ation of external conformity to an end.
i . External Conformity to an End. Suppose an end has been posited in any kind o
f way and has to be realised, then in so far as the subject together with its en
ds is something finite, is an immediate definite form of existence, the further
characteristic of realisation lies outside of it. It is, looked at from one poin
t of view, immediate, and in that case the subject, together with its ends, is i
mmediate, and the aspect under which realisation presents itself is an external
one, i.e., the realisation appears as material, as something which has been got
outside, and serves simply to realise the end. It is, in fact, merely a means in
reference to the end, and it is the latter which firmly maintains itself and is
permanent. Being as an " Other," Being in the aspect of reality, the material,
is, as compared with the fixed end, something which has no independence of its o
wn, has no actual Being, but is simply a means with no soul in it. The end is ou
tside of it and is first impressed upon it by the activity of the subject, which
realises itself in the material. External conformity to an end has thus an obje
ctivity outside of it which has no independence, and in contrast to which the su
bject, together with its ends, is what is permanent. The material has no power t
o offer resistance, but is simply a means for the end which realises itself in i
t, and in the same way the realised end is itself merely an external form in the
material, for this latter is something which has been immediately got, and is t
herefore dependent, though it is independent as well. In their union, therefore,
both of them, means and end, remain external to one another. Wood and stones ar
e means, but the realised end is equally wood and stones which have received a c
ertain form ; but all the same the material is still something external to the e
nd.
. Inner Conformity to an End. This is the conformity which has its means in itse
lf. Thus what has life is an end for itself, it makes itself into an end, and he
re the end is also the means. What has life is marked by this simple inwardness,
which realises itself in its parts or members; it is an articulated organism, a
n organism with differentiated members. Since the subject produces itself within
itself, it has as its aim to have its means within itself. Each is a part or me
mber and maintains itself, and is the means whereby the others are produced and
maintained ; it is consumed and consumes ; it is this form, and not the material
particles, which remains and maintains itself in this process. Life is thus an
end in itself.
But it now further appears that the end, which is end for itself, stands at the
same time in relation to external conformity to an end. Organic life has relatio
ns to inorganic Nature, and finds in it the means through which it maintains its
elf, and these means exist independently so far as this organic life is concerne
d. Thus inner conformity to an end has also relations to a conformity which is o
utside. Life can assimilate the means, but they have already been found for it,
they have not come into existence through Life itself. Its own organs can produc
e the life but not the means.
We are here iu the region of finite conformity to an end ; absolute conformity w
e shall get to later on.
The teleological way of looking at the world thus contains the different forms o
f the end in general. There are fixed ends and means, and even the end which has
the end in itself is merely finite, dependent, standing in need of help in resp
ect to the means. This conformity to an end is so far finite, and finitude in th
ese relations to externality is, to begin with, the means, the material ; the en
d cannot continue to exist apart from these means, nor, on the other hand, can i
t exist unless these means are powerless in reference to the end.
. The next element of truth in this relation of means and end is to be found in
that universal Power or Force through which the means potentially exist for the
end. From the standpoint of conformity to an end, things which are ends have the
power of realising themselves, but they have not the power of positing the mean
s. Both the end and the material appear as indifferent to each other, both appea
r as having an immediate definite existence, the means being something found for
the end. Their potentiality, accordingly, is necessarily the power which posits
the end, and brings the end, which has its end in itself, into a unity with the
means ; and in order that the finitude of the relation may be done away with th
e finitude being what we have so far been dealing with we must proceed to the po
int at which the Totality or whole of the process in its inner conformity to an
end, comes into view. What is living has ends in itself ; it has means and mater
ial within its own existence ; it exists as the power or force of the means and
its material. This we find present at first only in the living individual existe
nce. It has in its organs the means, and is therefore its own material too. Thes
e means are pervaded and penetrated by the end, they do not exist independently
for themselves, they cannot exist apart from the soul, apart from the living, un
ity of the body to which they belong. This fact must now take on the form of wha
t is universal, i.e., the means and materials which appear as accidental forms o
f existence as contrasted with what the end implicitly is, have actually to be b
rought under the sway of the Power in them, and to have their soul only in the e
nd, spite of their apparently indifferent independent existence. The universal i
dea here is Power, which exerts its power in accordance with ends, universal Pow
er. In so far as the end, which is an end in itself, exists, and inorganic Natur
e is outside of it, this latter as a matter of fact belongs to the Power which s
hows its power in accordance with ends, so that those forms of existence which a
ppear immediately exist only for the end. There are, it may be said, things whic
h are implicitly ends, and things which appear as means, but this characterisati
on cannot be maintained, for the first mentioned may in their turn be relatively
means, while the last mentioned may, on the contrary, exist in a permanent form
. This second class, that of those things which appear as existing independently
, is implicitly posited, not by means of the Power of the end, but by means of a
higher essentially existing Power which conforms them to the end.
This is the general conception or notion of Power which acts in accordance with
ends. The truth of the world consists in this Power; it is the Power of Wisdom,
the absolutely universal Power, and since it is the world which is its manifesta
tion, the truth of the world is the completely realised essential existence of t
he manifestation of a wise Power.
We have now more particularly to consider the proof of the existence of God whic
h is based on this thought. Two points call for notice. The wise Power, namely,
is the absolute Process in itself ; it is the power of producing effects, of bei
ng active. This wise Power has by its very nature to posit a world which has end
s in itself ; its nature is to manifest itself, to pass into actual definite exi
stence. This actual existence is, speaking generally, the positing of the differ
ence, of the manifoldness which attaches to external existence. We thus get the
element of difference in a more important and more essential specialised form. P
ower produces what it does produce in its character as wisdom, what is produced
is the difference ; this means that the one is implicitly an end and the other a
means for the first ; it is merely something in conformity with an end, conting
ent, and not an end in itself. This differentiation, namely, that the one is the
means of the other, is the one side. The other side in this mediation consists
in this, that the mutual relation between these two sides is Power, or, to expre
ss it differently, it is just this which characterises those on the one side as
ends and the others as means, and is thus the maintenance or preservation of the
ends. This aspect of the differentiation is Creation ; it proceeds from the Not
ion ; the wise
Power produces effects, makes distinctions, and thus is Creation.
It is to be noticed that this part of the mediation does not belong to the proof
of the existence of God, for this part of the mediation begins with the concept
ion or notion of wise Power. "We have not here as yet reached the point at which
the proof starts from the Notion, but that at which it starts from definite exi
stence.
I. It is at this point that we first get the conception of Creation strictly so
called ; it is not to be found in any of the discussions which have gone before.
We had first infinitude, then Power as the Essence of God. In the Infinite we h
ave simply the negative of the finite ; and in the same way in necessity finite
existence is something which merely goes back whence it came ; things disappear
in it as accidental. What is is only in so far as it is a result. In so far as i
t is, all that can be asserted of it is only the fact that it is ; nothing can b
e said of how it is ; it can be in the particular way in which it is, but it mig
ht be otherwise as well, right or wrong, happy or unhappy. In necessity we get n
o further than formal affirmation ; we do not get to the content ; here there is
nothing which is abiding, there is nothing which would be an absolute end. It i
s in Creation that we first come upon the positing and the being posited of affi
rmative forms of existence, not only as abstract, <is things which only are, but
as having content as well. It is just for this reason that Creation is only rig
htly in its place here. It is not the action of Power as Power, but of Power as
Power that is wise, for Power first determines itself as wisdom ; wheat appears
as finite is thus already contained in it, and the determinations here get affir
mation, i.e., the finite existences, the things created get true affirmation. Th
ere are ends which are valid, and necessity is reduced to the condition of a mom
ent in reference to the ends. The end is what persists in the Power, as opposed
to it and through it. Necessity is there on behalf of the end, its process is th
e maintenance and the realisation of the end ; the end stands above it, and nece
ssity is thus posited as one side only of the process, so that one part only of
what is created is subjected to this Power, and appears accordingly as contingen
t. It is from the notion or conception of a wise Power that the act of positing,
along with the difference referred to, proceeds.
. By means of the conception alluded to we get two aspects of this truth ; on th
e one hand we have ends, and on the other what is contingent. The second step ac
cordingly is the mediation between the ends and what is contingent. They are, as
a matter of fact, different; life and what has not life, each exists immediatel
y for itself, they have an equal right to be they are; the Being of the one has
no more justification than that of the other. The ends are living ; they are thu
s individuals existing as so many immediate single points which stand off from e
ach other, and in reference to which the other exists for itself and to which it
can offer resistance. The mediation or reconciliation between these two consist
s in this, that the two do not exist for themselves in a similar way. The one cl
ass consists of ends, the other of what has merely material independent Being, a
nd has no higher signification even when it is living.
It is this second characteristic or mediation which has been put into the specia
l form of the Proof of the existence of God known as the Physico-Theological.
What has life is in fact Power, though at first it is this only implicitly ; in
its organs it is the living Soul which is the Power, though this power does not
yet hold sway over the inorganic, which also exists and is infinitely manifold.
We thus have, on the one hand, what is as yet Quality, what is, to begin with, i
mmediate Being, and the living things in a condition of indifference to each oth
er. They use the material which also exists in this definite particular form whi
ch they themselves come to have, and the other side is first given when the livi
ng things exist as power exercised over the material. It is by regarding the mat
ter from this point of view that Understanding has constructed that Proof which
is called the Physico-Theological.
In definite existence there are, in short, elements of two kinds which are indif
ferent to each other, and a third element is required through which the end can
realise itself. Immediate existence is composed of elements which are indifferen
t to each other. Here it is the Good which is the ruling principle, and this mea
ns that each determination is so related to itself as to be indifferent towards
what is other than it that they are, in fact, different, though this does not me
an that they are opposed to each other, for such opposition is not present in im
mediate existence. It is this inwardness, this potentiality, which forms the not
ion or conception of wise Power, and it is thus to this quality that the Proof a
fter its fashion attaches itself. The Teleological Proof consists of the followi
ng moments as set forth by Kant, moments which he has specially taken up and cri
ticised, and which he regarded as discredited. In the world are to be found clea
r traces or indications of a wise arrangement in accordance with ends. The world
is full of life, spiritual life and natural life. These living things are impli
citly organised, and so far as these organs are concerned it is possible to rega
rd the parts as unrelated. It is true that the life in them is their harmony, bu
t the fact of their existing in harmony does not seem to be based on their actua
l existence. Then, again, living things are related to what is external to them,
and each form of life is related to its own part of inorganic nature. Plants re
quire a particular climate or a particular soil, animals are of particular speci
es things, in fact, have their particular natures. Life is merely productive, an
d does not pass over into the Other along with which it forms part of a process.
On the contrary, it continues to be itself while constantly altering and recons
tructing the process. Thus what strikes any one who begins to reflect, is the el
ement of harmonious relation in the world existing between the organic and the i
norganic, and how existing things seem to ba arranged with special reference to
Man. For, at first, Man has before him things which have an independent existenc
e, things which exist solely for themselves, but which, all the same, are in har
monious relation with his existence. What is really wonderful is that those very
things which at first seem totally unrelated are just the things which really e
xist for one another, and therefore what produces wonder is the opposite of that
indifference or absence of relation, namely, conformity to an end. We are thus
in presence of a principle which is entirely different from that involved in unr
elated existence.
This first principle is, so far as existing things are concerned, merely acciden
tal. Nature, things, could not of themselves work harmoniously through so many f
orms of existence towards a contemplated end, and for this reason a rational arr
anging principle has to be forthcoming, and this the things themselves are not.
That things exist in conformity to an end is not a truth which is involved in or
posited by the things themselves. Life certainly is so active that it makes use
of inorganic nature, maintains itself by means of its act of assimilation, nega
tes it, identifies itself with the inorganic and yet preserves itself in it. Its
activity is certainly that particular activity of the subject which constitutes
itself the centre point and uses the Other as a means, but the second character
istic is external to the things. Men, it is true, make use of things, they assim
ilate them, but the fact that there are such things which they can use is not in
volved in man's existence, is not posited by men. The fact of their being extern
ally unrelated or indifferent to each other so far as their existence is concern
ed, as well as the fact of their existence, are not involved in or posited by th
e end. This indifference of things to each other does not express their true rel
ation, but is merely an illusion. The true character of the relation is the tele
ological characterisation of conformity to an end, and it is in this, accordingl
y, that we have the absence of indifference in the relation between existing thi
ngs. This expresses the essential relation, the relation which is valid and true
. The Proof points to the necessity of having one supreme principle of order or
regulating essence, for we infer from the unity of the world that the cause is o
ne.
Kant, in opposition to this, says that this argument shows us God merely as an a
rchitect and not as a creator, and that it is concerned merely with the continge
nt elements of forms and not with the substance. It is, in fact, only the suitab
ility of means to end which is demanded, the quality of objects in relation to e
ach other in so far as it is posited by or depends for its existence on some Pow
er. This quality, says Kant, is merely fbrrnj and the Power which posits would b
e a Cause producing forms merely, and not a Power creating matter. The distincti
on upon which this criticism rests has no meaning. There can be no positing of t
he form by the Power without the positing of the matter. If we have once got int
o the region of the Notion, we have got far past the distinction of form and mat
ter, and must know that absolute form is something real, that therefore form is
something, and that apart from matter it is nothing. When the word form is used
in this connection it expresses a particular quality. The essential form, howeve
r, is the end, the Notion itself which realises itself ; the form in the sense i
n which it is the Notion is the substantial element itself, the Soul ; what can
be distinguished from it as matter is something which is formal and entirely sec
ondary, or it is merely a formal characterisation in the Notion.
Kant says further that the syllogism starts from the world and from an arrangeme
nt and conformity to an end which have been reached merely by observation, and w
hich express a merely contingent existence what is said about existence is undou
btedly correct, the contingent is reached by observation and goes on to infer th
e existence of a Cause proportionate to these, which works in accordance with an
end. This remark is quite correct. \Ve say that the arrangement in accordance w
ith an end which we observe cannot have sprung up of itself ; it demands the exi
stence of a Power acting in accordance with ends ; it is the content of this Cau
se, though we cannot know anything more of this wisdom than what we learn of it
from observation. All observation gives nothing more than a relation ; but no on
e can reason from Power to Almighty Power, from wisdom and unity, to an allwise
and absolute Unity, and so the physicotheological Proof gives us only a great Po
wer, a great Unity. The content desired, however, is God, absolute Power, Wisdom
; but this is not involved in what is contained in observation, a leap is made
from what is great to what is absolute. This is a point thoroughly well establis
hed ; the content from which the start is made is not that of God.
It is from conformity to an end that we start, and this category is got at empir
ically ; these are finite contingent things, and they are also ordered in confor
mity to an end. What, then, is the character of this conformity ? It is, of cour
se, finite. The ends are finite, particular, and are accordingly contingent also
; arid it is here that the element of inadequacy which attaches to this physico
theological Proof comes in, a defect which is felt at once, and which raises a s
uspicion against this style of argument. Man uses plants, animals, light, air, w
ater ; and so too do animals and plants. The end is thus an entirely limited one
; animals and plants are at one time ends and at another means they eat and are
eaten. This physico-theological way of looking at things is apt to lead to triv
ialities and to direct attention to small details. It may satisfy those who wish
for edification, and the heart may be impressed by looking at things in this fa
shion. It is another thing, however, if we have to get to know God by this means
, and if we mean to speak of absolute wisdom. A bronto-theology, a testacean-the
ology, &c., have been discovered in this way. The content, the active working of
God, are here simply such finite ends as may be shown to be present in existenc
e generally. Absolutely higher ends would be found in morality, in freedom ; mor
al good would have to be an end for itself in order that an absolute end of such
a nature might also be attained in the world. But here we are in the region of
actions in accordance with ends in general, while it is finite, limited ends whi
ch present themselves in observation. The Power which works in accordance with e
nds is merely the life-force, and is not yet Spirit, the personality of God. Whe
n it is said that the Good is the end, then it may be asked, What is good ? If i
t is further said that happiness comes to men in proportion to their moral worth
, that the end is that the good -man should be happy and the bad man unhappy, th
en, as a matter of fact, we see in the world what forms a most cruel contrast to
this, and we find just as many incitements to morality as there are sources of
temptation. In short, perception and observation, considered in this aspect, do
indeed give us conformity to an end, but in an equal degree do they give what is
not in conformity to an end, and in the long-run it comes to be a matter of cal
culating which of the two elements predominates. It is, accordingly, some such f
inite end, speaking generally, which constitutes the content of the idea of the
wisdom of God.
The defect of the proof consists in this, that the idea of conformity to an end
or of wisdom is defined in a general way merely, and for this reason attention i
s directed to those observations and to the knowledge gained by sense-perception
, in connection with which accordingly relative ends of this sort present themse
lves. Even if God is conceived of as a Power working actively in accordance with
ends, still this does not give what is sought after when we speak of God. A Pow
er which works in accordance with ends is, in fact, the lifeforce of Nature, and
not yet Spirit. The conception of the life-force expresses something which is a
n end for itself, an actually existing end and activity in accordance therewith.
In its content, accordingly, as thus expressed, we have nothing beyond what is
involved in the conception of living Nature.
So far as the form of this Proof is concerned, we have in it, speaking generally
, that of the syllogism of the Understanding. There are existing things characte
rised by a teleological arrangement, i.e., there are in a general way relations
between things in conformity with ends, and in addition to this there is the def
inite existence of these objects which have the character of means, of something
accidental so far as the ends are concerned. These objects, however, are at the
 same time not contingent when standing in this relation to one another, but rat
her it is implied in the notion or conception of the end, in the conception of t
he life-force, that not only have the ends been posited, but the objects too, wh
ich are means. This is quite correct, but the argument is further developed as f
ollows. The arrangement of things in accordance with an end is composed, so far
as its inner, its essential nature is concerned, of a Power which constitutes th
e connection or positing of the two, and by means of which they come to suit eac
h other. Now, it is argued, if there are such things, here again it is the Being
of these things which constitutes the starting-point. The transition, however,
on the other hand, contains the moment of Not-Being. The means do not exist; the
y exist only in so far as they have been negatively posited, and so far as they
exist they have merely a contingent existence in connection with the end. What,
however, is demanded by the argument is, that they should not be forms of existe
nce standing in a relation of indifference to the end. When, therefore, it is sa
id that such things do actually exist, it is necessary to add to this the moment
that their Being is not their own Being, but Being which has been degraded to a
means. On the other hand, when it is said ends do actually exist, they certainl
y do ; but since there is a Power which arranges them in a certain way, the exis
tence of the ends in common with that of the means is posited as well. It is not
the Being of the ends which, as positive Being, has the power of making the med
iation the transition, but rather it is just in this transition that their Being
is changed into a Being which has been posited or made dependent on something e
lse.
The minor proposition here, however, does not get farther than the Being of thin
gs, instead of taking their Not-Being also into consideration. The general conte
nt of this form of proof is this : The world is arranged in accordance with an e
nd, leaving out of consideration more definite ends. Conformity to an end is the
notion not only in finite things, but expresses also the absolute essential cha
racter of the Notion, i.e., the divine Notion, the essential characterisation or
determination of God. God is Power, self-determination, and this means that He
determines Himself in accordance with ends. The main defect in the argument is t
hat it starts from perception, from phenomena. These supply a conformity to ends
which is finite merely, while the pure end is the universal and absolute end.
We shall now pass on to the concrete or more definite form of religion, to the c
oncrete determination of God. The notion or general conception is that of Power
which works actively in accordance with ends. In the region of religion we occup
y a different standpoint, that of consciousness or the self-consciousness of Spi
rit. Here we have the Notion no longer in the form merely of lifeforce, but as i
t determines itself in consciousness. We now have religion as consciousness of S
pirit, which is a universal Power working in accordance with ends. In the object
of religion it is the idea of Spirit in general which is present, but the point
to determine is, which moment of Thought or Spirit is actively present. The con
tent is not yet Spirit in and for itself; the object of the idea does not yet ex
press the content of Spirit, this content being here a Power which works in acco
rdance with ends. Since religion is defined as consciousness, here it is to be d
efined as self-consciousness. Here we have divine self-consciousness in general,
both in its objective form as determination of the object, and also in its subj
ective form as determination of the finite spirit. Consciousness, Spirit, determ
ines itself here as selfconsciousness. That is implied in what has gone before;
how it is so implied has now to be briefly indicated. In power, which is wisdom,
the determinateness is posited as ideal in such a way that it pertains to the n
otion. The determinateness appears as determinate Being, Being for an Other. Alo
ng with consciousness difference is posited first as difference in reference to
the self. Here it is posited as the individual difference of the self ; it is re
lation to self, and consciousness is thus self-consciousness. God is posited as
self-consciousness in so far as consciousness and its connection with the object
are thought of essentially as self-consciousness. Definite existence, the objec
tivity of God, the Other, is something ideal or spiritual. God is thus essential
ly for Spirit, for Thought in general, and this fact that He as Spirit is for Sp
irit is at all events one aspect of the relation. It may constitute the Totality
of the relation when it means that God is worshipped in spirit and in truth, bu
t it is essentially, at all events, one characteristic. We have further seen tha
t the Notion must be characterised as eud. The end must not, however, merely pre
serve this form, remain shut up within itself and belong to itself ; on the cont
rary, it has to be realised. The question now conies to be, supposing that wisdo
m has to act, that the end has to be realised, what is to serve as the material
or sphere for this ? This can be nothing else than Spirit in general, or, to put
it more definitely, Man. He is the object of the Power which determines itself,
which acts in .accordance with this determination, namely, wisdom. Man, or fini
te consciousness, is Spirit in the character of finitude. The act of realisation
is a positing of the Notion of a kind which is different from the mode in which
the absolute Notion realises itself, and consequently it assumes the mode of fi
nitude, which, however, is at the same time spiritual. Spirit is only lor Spirit
; it is here characterised as self-consciousness, and the Other, in which it rea
lises itself, is the finite spirit, and there too it is equally self-consciousne
ss. This sphere or universal reality is itself something spiritual. It must be a
sphere in which Spirit at the same time actually exists or is for itself. Man i
s thus conceived of as an essential end, as the sphere of divine power or wisdom
.
Finally, Man thus stands to God in an affirmative relation, for the fundamental
determination is that he is self-consciousness. Man, who constitutes this aspect
of reality, is accordingly self-consciousness ; he is consciousness of the abso
lute Essence as being his own, consequently the freedom of consciousness is posi
ted in God, and thus Man is here at home with himself. This moment of consciousn
ess is an essential one, it is a fundamental determination, though not as yet th
e complete expression of the relation. Man exists for himself as a self-constitu
ted end, his consciousness is free in God, it is justified in God, exists essent
ially for self, and is directed towards God. This is the principle in a general
form, while the definite forms are the particular religions, those of Sublimity,
of Beauty, and of Utility or Conformity to an End.
C. DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT.
We have on the one side power pure and simple and abstract wisdom, and on the ot
her a contingent end to be carried out. Both are united, and wisdom is unlimited
; .but for this reason it is indeterminate, and because of this the end as real
is contingent or finite. The mediation of the two sides to concrete unity, whic
h is of such a kind that the notion of wisdom is itself the content of its end,
already constitutes the transition to a higher stage. The main determination her
e is expressed by the question, What is wisdom ? what is the end ? It is an end
which is inadequate to the power.
(a.) The subjectivity which is inherently power has no connection with sense ; t
he natural or immediate element is in it negated ; it is only for Spirit, for Th
ought. This Power, which exists for itself, is essentially One. That which we ha
ve called reality, Nature, is only something posited, negated, and passes away i
nto independent selfexistent Being, where there is no Many, no One and the Other
. Thus the One is purely exclusive, having no Other beside it, and not suffering
anything alongside of it which might have independence. This One is the wisdom
of The All ; everything is posited by means of it, but is for it merely somethin
g external and accidental. This is the sublimity of the One, of this Power, and
of Power which is wise. Since, on the other hand, it takes on the form of defini
te existence, namely, self-consciousness, and as Being exists for an Other, the
end also is only one, though it is none the less sublime, and still it is a limi
ted end which is not yet determined by means of multiplicity, and is thus an inf
initely limited end. Both of these aspects correspond with one another, the infi
nitude of the Power and the limited character of its actual end. On the one hand
 there is sublimity, and on the other the opposite, an infinite limitedness or r
estrictedness. This is the first form in reference to the end. The One has what
is infinite alongside of it, while, however, setting up for being the One.
So far as the relation between Nature and Spirit is concerned, the Religion of S
ublimity means that the sensuous, the finite, the natural, what is spiritually a
nd physically natural, has not yet been taken up into free subjectivity or trans
figured within it. The characteristic of this stage is that free subjectivity is
elevated to the condition of pure Thought, a form which is more adequate to exp
ress the content than the sensuous is. Here the natural element is dominated by
this free subjectivity, in which the Other is merely ideal, and has no true last
ing existence as against free subjectivity. Spirit is what raises itself, what i
s raised above the natural, above finitude. This is the Religion of Sublimity.
The Sublime is not, however, the Measureless, which, in order to determine itsel
f and to take on a definite form, can make use only of what is immediately prese
nt and of silly distortions of it, and has to do this in order to produce a conf
ormity with its inner nature. Sublimity, on the other hand, can do without immed
iate existence and its modes, and does not, like the other, get into a condition
of poverty which forces it to lay hold of these modes in order to represent its
elf, but pronounces these to be a mere show or illusion.
(.) The other characteristic or determination is that the natural or finite is t
ransfigured in Spirit, in the freedom of Spirit. Its transfiguration consists in
this, that it is a symbol of the spiritual in such a way that in this transfigu
ration of the physical-natural or spiritual-natural, the natural itself stands o
ver against the spiritual as finite, as the other side of that essentiality, of
that substantiality which we call God. This last is free subjectivity, in connec
tion with which the finite is posited merely as a symbol, in which God, Spirit,
appears. This is the mode of present individuality, of Beauty. In respect of the
determination of the end, this mode means that the end is not one only, but tha
t there are many ends, and that the infinitely limited end is elevated to the co
ndition of a real end. Here the real end is no longer exclusive, but allows much
all, in fact, the right of existence alongside of it, and a genial tolerance is
here the fundamental characteristic. There are subjects of various sorts which
have a valid existence alongside of each other, many unities from which definite
existence gets the means it employs, and thus existence gets a certain friendly
character attached to it. Just because there are many particular ends, multipli
city does not disdain to exhibit itself in immediate determinate existence. The
multiplicity, the kind or variety, possesses universality in itself. The end per
mits the different kinds of things to have a valid existence alongside of itself
; it is on terms of friendship with particularity and shows itself in it, and in
its character, as particular end, it permits the means to have a valid existenc
e alongside of itself, and manifests itself in it. It is at this point that the
determination or category of Beauty comes in. Beauty is end existing potentially
, which allies itself with immediate existence, and in this way establishes its
own validity. Above the Beautiful and the particular end there floats the Univer
sal in the form of a Power devoid of anything subjective, devoid of wisdom, inde
terminate in itself, and this accordingly is Fate cold necessity. Necessity is,
indeed, that particular development of the Essence which allows its phenomenal m
anifestation or appearance to unfold itself in the form of independent realities
, while the moments of this outward manifestation show themselves in the shape o
f distinct or differentiated forms. Implicitly, however, these moments are ident
ical, and their existence is accordingly not to be taken seriously. It is only D
estiny, the inner identity of the differences, which is to be taken seriously.
(c.) The third form of religion is equally represented by a finite particular en
d, which in its particularity represents itself as universality, and expands its
elf so as to reach universality, but which is all the same still empirical and e
xternal. It is not the true universality of the Notion, but one which, comprisin
g the world and the peoples of the world within itself, extends them so as to re
ach universality, while it at the same time loses its determinate character, and
has for its end the cold abstract Power, and is in itself devoid of an end.
In external existence these three moments are represented by the Jewish, the Gre
ek, and the Roman religions. Power, as subjectivity, determines itself as wisdom
acting in accordance with an end ; this end is, to begin with, still undetermin
ed ; particular ends come into existence, and finally an empirical universal end
appears.
These religions correspond in reverse order to those preceding them. The .Jewish
religion corresponds to the Persian, the element of difference common to the tw
o being that, regarded from this standpoint, the determinateness represents the
inner nature of the Essence which is the end of self-determination. At an earlie
r stage, however, in the religions which precede, the determinateness had a natu
ral character. In the Persian religion this was represented by light, this eleme
nt being in its nature universal, simple, and physical. This was accordingly the
final stage reached, taking the natural as a starting-point, Nature being thus
comprehended in a unity which was similar to that of Thought. Here, in the Jewis
h religion, particularity is represented by a simple abstract end, namely, power
, which is really only wisdom. Regarding the question from the second standpoint
, we have in the Greek religion many particular ends and one Power above them ;
in the Hindu religion there are in the same way the many natural realities, and
above them Brahma, the self-thinking One. Considering the matter from the third
standpoint, we have an empirical universal end which is itself the selfless, all
-destroying Destiny, not true subjectivity, and corresponding to this we have po
wer as individual empirical self-consciousness. Thus, too, in the Chinese religi
on there appears an individual existence which represents itself as the Universa
l pure and simple, as determining everything as God. The first mode of natural e
xistence is self-consciousness, individual, natural. The natural, in its charact
er as something single or individual, is what actually exists as, and is determi
ned as, self-consciousness. Here, accordingly, the arrangement is the reverse of
what we have in the Religion of Nature. In the present instance, what is primar
y is Thought, which is concrete in itself, simple subjectivity, which then advan
ces so as to get determination within itself. In the other case, in the Religion
of Nature, it was the natural immediate self-consciousness which was the primar
y element, and which finally embodied itself in the pictorial conception of ligh
t.

I. THE RELIGION OF SUBLIMITY.

What this religion has in common with that of Beauty is the ideality it ascribes
to the natural, which it brings into subjection to the spiritual, and further t
hat in it God is consciously known as conscious Spirit, as Spirit whose determin
ations are rational and moral. God, however, in the Religion of Beauty has still
a particular nature or content, or, to put it otherwise, He is merely moral Pow
er in the manifested form of Beauty, and therefore in a manifestation which stil
l takes place in a sensuous material, in the region of sensuous matter, the matt
er of the idea or ordinary conception : the region in which the manifestation ta
kes places is not yet that of Thought. The necessity for rising higher to tlie R
eligion of Sublimity is to be found in the fact that the particular spiritual an
d moral forces are taken out of their state of particularity and included within
a spiritual unity. The truth of the Particular is the universal unity, which is
concrete in itself in so far as it has the Particular within itself, and yet ha
s this in itself in such a way that in its essence it is subjectivity.
The region for the play of this manifestation of reason, which, as subjectivity,
is, so far as its content is concerned, universal, and is, so far as its form i
s concerned, free the region in which pure subjectivity shows itself, is that of
 pure Thought. This pure subjectivity has been freed from the natural, and conse
quently from what is sensuous, whether this is found in the external world of se
nse or is a sensuous idea. It is the spiritual subjective unity, and it is this
which first rightly gets from us the name God.
This subjective unity is not substance, but subjective unity ; it is absolute Po
wer, while the natural is merely something posited, ideal, and not independent.
It does not manifest itself in any natural material, but in Thought. Thought is
the mode of its definite existence or manifestation.
There is absolute power in the Hindu religion also, but the main point is that i
t be concretely determined within itself, and thus be the absolute wisdom. The r
ational characteristics of freedom, the moral characteristics, are united so as
to form one characteristic, one End, and thus the characteristic of this subject
ivity is holiness. Morality thus characterises itself as holiness.
The higher truth of the subjectivity of God is not the determination or characte
ristic of the Beautiful, in which the constituent element, the absolute content,
is separated into particulars, but the characteristic of holiness ; and the rel
ation between these two determinations is similar to that between the animals an
d man : the animals have a particular character, but it is the character of univ
ersality which is the human moral rationality of freedom, and the unity of this,
rationality, a unity which has an essential independent existence, is the true
subjectivity, the subjectivity which determines itself within itself. This is wi
sdom and holiness. The content of the Greek gods, the moral Powers, are not holy
, because they are particular and limited.
A. THE GENERAL NATURE OF THE CONCEPTION.
The Absolute, God, is defined as the one subjectivity, pure subjectivity, and, a
s a consequence, as subjectivity which is universal in itself, or the reverse. T
his subjectivity, which is universal in itself, is clearly One only. The unity o
f God consists in this, that the consciousness of God is the consciousness of Hi
m as One. The point here is not to show that the unity exists implicitly, that t
he unity lies at the basis of things, as is the case in the Indo-Chinese religio
n ; for God is not posited as infinite subjectivity when His unity is merely imp
licit, and He is not known and does not exist for consciousness as subjectivity.
God in the present case is, on the contrary, consciously known as a personal On
e, not as One, as in Pantheism. Thus the immediate natural mode of conceiving of
God disappears, the mode, for instance, which appears in the Persian religion,
in which He is thought of as light, lleligion is conceived of as the religion of
Spirit, but only so far as its basis is concerned, only as it exists in the reg
ion that specially belongs to it, that of Thought. This unity of God contains it
self One Power, a Power which consequently is absolute, and within this all exte
rnality, and consequently all that belongs to the world of sense, that takes on
the form of sense, or is a picture, disappears.
God is here without form. He does not exist in any external sensuous form. There
is no image of Him. He does not exist for the sensuous idea, but, on the contra
ry, He exists only for thought. The infinite subjectivity is the subjectivity wh
ich thinks, and, being thinking subjectivity, it exists only for thought.
(a.) God is defined as absolute power, which is wisdom. Power in its form as wis
dom is, to begin with, reflected into itself as subject. This reflection into se
lf, this selfdetermination of power, is the self-determination which is entirely
abstract and -universal, which does not yet ] particularise itself within itsel
f, the determinate character being only determinateness in general. It is owing
to this subjectivity which makes no distinction within itself that God is define
d as One. Within this -One all particularity has vanished. It is implied in this
that natural things, the things which have a determinate particular character a
nd constitute the world, have no longer any valid independent existence in their
condition of immediacy. Independence is represented by One only. All else is me
rely something posited, dependent for its being on something else, something whi
ch is kept from existing by the One, for the One is abstract subjectivity, and a
ll else is unsubstantial as compared with it.
(b.) The next point is the determination of the end followed out by the absolute
Power. From one point of view, God is Himself His end. He is wisdom. And it is,
to begin with, required of this determination that it be equal to the power. It
is itself, however, merely a general end, or, to put it otherwise, wisdom is me
rely abstract, is merely called wisdom.
(c.) The determinateness, however, must not remain merely a determination within
the Notion, but receive the form of reality also. This form is, to begin with,
an immediate one. The end of God is, in fact, merely the first reality, and acco
rdingly is a wholly single or individual end. The next step is that the end, the
determinateness, should on its part be raised to the condition of concrete univ
ersality. We certainly have here pure subjectivity on the one side, but the dete
rminateness is not yet equalised with it. This first end is thus limited, but Ma
n, self-consciousness, is the sphere in which it shows itself. The end must, as
being a divine end, be universal, inherently and potentially universal ; it must
contain universality in itself. The end is thus merely human, and as yet natura
lly the family, which widens out into a nation. A definite nation becomes here t
he end set before itself by wisdom.
That God should be thus characterised as One seems to us a thought which is fami
liar, and not striking and important, because we are accustomed to this figurati
ve idea of Him. The idea is formal, too, but of infinite importance, and it is n
ot to be wondered at that the Jewish people put such a high value upon it, for t
he thought that God is one is the root of subjectivity, of the intellectual worl
d, the way to truth. The essential character of absolute truth is contained in i
t ; still it is not yet truth as truth, for development is a necessary quality o
f this latter, but it is the beginning of truth and the formal principle of the
absolute harmony of the Absolute with itself. The One is pure power, and all tha
t is particular is posited in Him as negative, and not as belonging to Him as su
ch, but as inadequate to express Him, as unworthy of Him, In the religion of Nat
ure we saw the determinateness under the aspect of natural existence, as, for ex
ample, light, and the self-consciousness of the Absolute appeared in this manifo
ld manner. In the infinite Power, on the other hand, all this externality is ann
ihilated. There is, therefore, an essence without form or representation which d
oes not exist for the Other in any natural mode, but only for thought, for Spiri
t. This definition of the One is that formal definition of unity which forms the
basis of the conception of God as Spirit, and, so far as self-consciousness is
concerned, it is the root of its concrete, true content.
But it is, to begin with, nothing more than the root merely. For the point to be
determined is not how many spiritual predicates as, for example, wisdom, goodne
ss, mercy, are to be ascribed to the One, but what He does and really is. What w
e are concerned with is, the actual determination and reality. It must, therefor
e, be determined whether or not the action expresses the mode in which Spirit ap
pears. If the activity is not of the kind which develops the nature of Spirit, t
hen the subject may certainly pass for being Spirit so far as ordinary thought i
s concerned, but it is not itself true Spirit. The fundamental characteristic of
activity here, however, is, to begin with, Power, which does not assume an outw
ard form implying that the reality is its own reality, but rather its attitude t
o reality is still essentially a negative one.

B. THE CONCRETE GENERAL IDEA OR POPULAR CONCEPTION.

(a.) The Determination of the Divine Particularisation.
first Determination. In the divine act of judgment, God is wisdom ; God's self-d
etermination, His differentiation, or, to put it more definitely, His act of Cre
ation, is contained in it. Spirit is simply what mediates self within self, what
is active. This activity implies a distinguishing from self, an act of judgment
, which, in its original meaning; is separation or division. The world is someth
ing posited by Spirit; it is made out of its nothing. The negative element in th
e world, however, is the affirmative element, the Creator, namely, in whom what
is natural exists as the non-existent. The world, therefore, in its nothingness
has sprung from the absolute fulness of the power of the Good. It has been creat
ed from its own nothingness, which, as being its Other, God is. Wisdom means tha
t an end is present in the world, and determines it. This subjectivity, however,
is what comes first, and is accordingly abstract to begin with, and consequentl
y the particularisation of God is not yet posited as being within Himself, but r
ather His act of judgment or separation means that He posits something, and what
is thus posited and gets a definite character exists at first in the form of an
immediate Other. The higher conception is certainly that of God's act of Creati
on within Himself, by which He is beginning and end in Himself, and thus has the
moment of movement, which is here still outside of Him, in Himself, in His inne
r nature.
When wisdom is not abstract but concrete, and God is thought of as self-determin
ing in such a way that He creates Himself within Himself, and preserves what is
created within Himself, so that it is produced and known as permanently containe
d within Himself as His Son, then God is known as concrete God, truly known as S
pirit.
Since, however, wisdom is as yet abstract, the act of separation, what is posite
d, is something which has Being, the separation or judgment has still the form o
f immediacy, but it has this only in so far as it is form, for God creates absol
utely out of nothing. He alone is Being, what is positive. He is, however, at th
e same time the positing of His power. The necessity by which God is the positin
g of His power is the birthplace of all that is created. This necessity is the m
aterial out of which God creates ; it is God Himself, and He therefore does not
create out of anything material, for He is the Self, and not the immediate or ma
terial. He is not One as against an Other already existing, but is Himself the O
ther in the form of determinateness, which, however, because He is only One, exi
sts outside of Him as His negative movement. The positing of Nature necessarily
belongs to the notion or conception of spiritual life, of the Self, and is the s
inking of intelligence into sleep. Since power is conceived of as absolute negat
ivity, the Essence, i.e., what is identical with itself, is at first in a state
of repose, of eternal calm and seclusion. But this very solitude in its own self
is merely a moment of Power, and not its totality. Power is in its very nature
a negative relation to self, a mediation within self; and since it is negatively
related to self, the abolition or annulling of abstract identity is the positin
g of difference, determinateness, i.e., it is the creation of the world. The ele
ment of nothing, out of which the world is created, is the absence of all differ
ence, and it is in connection with this quality that Power, Essence, is first th
ought of. If, accordingly, it is asked where God got the material, the answer is
, just in that simple relation to self. Matter is what is formless, what is iden
tical with itself. This is merely a moment of the Essence, and is thus something
different from absolute Power, and is accordingly what we call matter. The crea
tion of the world, therefore, means the negative relation of the Power to itself
, in so far as it is to begin with something which is defined as merely identica
l with self.
The creation by God is something very different from the act of proceeding from
God, or from the idea of the world proceeding out of God. All peoples have had t
heogonies, or, what comes to the same thing, cosmogonies. In these the fundament
al category is always procession, not the fact of something being created. It is
out of Brahma that the gods proceed, while in the cosmogonies of the Greeks, th
e highest, the most spiritual gods are those which have finally proceeded from s
ome source, which have been the last so to proceed. This poor category of proces
sion now disappears, for the Good, Absolute Power, is a Subject.
This procession does not express the true character of what is created. What thu
s proceeds is what exists, what actually is, and in such a way that the Ground o
r Essence from which it proceeds is thought of as the unessential element which
has disappeared in something higher. What proceeds out of God is not thought of
as something created, but as something independent, selfsubsistent, not as somet
hing which has no iuherent in-' dependence. This, therefore, is the form taken b
y the Divine self-determination, the mode of particularisation. It cannot blunde
r, for wisdom is necessary to the very idea of it. It is not, however, any kind
of particularisation of God in Himself, otherwise God would be known as Spirit.
The particularisation, just because God is One, attaches to the other aspect of
existence. This particularisation is, to begin with, the Divine act of character
isation in general, and is thus Creation. This positing of the world is not tran
sitory, but, on the contrary, what proceeds out of God preserves the character o
f something posited, of the creature, in fact. Thus what is created has upon it
the mark of something which has no independence. This is the fundamental charact
eristic, and one which remains attached to it because God is conceived of as Sub
ject, as infinite Power. Here Power exists only for the One, and thus it follows
that what is particular is merely something negative, something posited, as com
pared with the subject.
Second Determination. This determination means that God is hypothetically Subjec
t. If He is not, then Creation is a vague popular conception which readily sugge
sts the mechanical and technical methods of production used by man, and this is
an idea which we must keep out of our minds. God is the First: His act of creati
on is an eternal creating, in which He is not a result, but that which originate
s. When He is conceived of in a higher way, namely, as Spirit, He is the selfcre
ating, and does not proceed out of Himself, being both beginning and result. Her
e, however, God is not conceived of as Spirit. Human production, technical produ
ction, is an external process. The Subject, what is First, becomes active, and c
onnects itself with something other than itself, and thus comes to stand in an e
xternal relation to the material which has to be manipulated, which offers resis
tance and has to be overcome. Both actually exist as objects which have a mutual
relation to each other. God, on the other hand, creates absolutely out of nothi
ng, since there is nothing which was before Him.
The mode of production, therefore, in connection with which He is Subject, is in
tuitive, is infinite activity. In the case of human production, I am consciousne
ss, I have an end, and know what it is, and I have, too, accordingly the materia
l, and know that my relation to it is a relation to an " Other." Intuitive produ
ction, on the contrary, the production of Nature, belongs to the conception of L
ife. It is an inward act, inner activity, which has no reference to something ac
tually existing. It is life-force, the eternal production of Nature, and Nature,
speaking generally, is something posited, something created.
God is in reference to the world the totality of His determinateness, of His neg
ation, and in reference to the totality of immediate Being, He is what is pre-su
pposed, the subject which remains absolutely first. Here the fundamental charact
eristic of God is subjectivity, which relates itself to itself, and as inherentl
y existing permanent subjectivity it is what is first.
The derivative character of the Greek gods, who represent the spiritual element,
is something which belongs to their finitude. It is this which gives them their
conditional character, in accordance with which their own nature is considered
as dependent on something previously existing, as is the case with the finite sp
irit of Nature.
Tiiis subjectivity, however, is the absolutely First, the Beginner of things, it
s conditional character being done away with ; but it is only something which be
gins, and this does not mean that the subjectivity is characterised as result an
d as concrete Spirit.
If what was created by the absolute Subject were itself, then the difference wou
ld in that case be done away with and absorbed in this difference. The first Sub
ject would be the last, something which resulted from itself. But this is a char
acteristic we have not yet got, and all we can say is that this absolute Subject
is something which begins merely that is first or primary.
The third determination of God in relation to the world. This is expressed by wh
at we call the attributes of God. These represent His determinate character, i.e
., inasmuch as we have seen that there is a particularisation of God, God's self
-determination, and that this selfdetermination is the creation of the world, it
follows that along with this there is posited the fact of a relation on the par
t of God to the world, or to put it otherwise, the attributes are the determinat
e element itself, only known in the Notion of God.
The One is something which has got determinate character, which is known as bein
g, as not returning into God, the Other is God's being made determinate as a det
erminate quality of God. It is this that we are in the habit of calling by the n
ame of attributes, God's relations to the world, and to say that we know only th
is relation of God to the world and do not know God Himself, is to use an unfort
unate expression. It is just this which is His own determinate character, and it
is this consequently which is represented by His owri attributes. , It is only
when things are represented in an external way and from the point of view of the
. senses, that anything can be said to be, and to be for self, in such a way tha
t its relations to other things, its attributes, are distinguished from its exis
tence, for it is just these which constitute its own peculiar nature. The manner
in which a man stands related to others is just his nature. The acid is nothing
else than the particular character of its relation to the base that is the natu
re of the acid itself. If we understand the relation in which an object stands t
o other things, we understand the nature of the object itself. These distinction
s, therefore, are of a very inferior character, since they directly coincide as
being the product of an understanding which does not know them, and is not aware
what it possesses in these distinctions. This determinateness as something exte
rnal, immediate, as a determinateness of God Himself, is His absolute power, whi
ch is wisdom, the definite moments of which are goodness and righteousness.
Goodness consists in the fact that the world is : Being does not belong to it, a
s Being is here reduced to the condition of a moment, and is only a Being which
has been posited or created. This act of dividing, of differentiation, represent
s the eternal goodness of God. What is thus distinguished from God has no right
to be ; it is external to the One, something manifold, and because of this, some
thing limited, finite, whose essential character is not to be, but the goodness
of God consists just in the fact that it is. Inasmuch as it is something which h
as been posited, it also passes away, is only appearance. God only is Being, the
truly real ; Being which excludes any of its elements, Being outside of God, ha
s no right of existence.
God can be a Creator in the true sense only in so far as He is subjectivity, for
as such He is free, and His determinate character, His self-determination, is s
et free. It is only what is free that can have its determinations standing over
against itself as free and can give them freedom. This differentiation, whose to
tality is represented by the world, this Being, is The Good.
The Being of the world, however, is only the Being of Power, or, to put it other
wise, the positive reality and independence or self-existence of the world is no
t its own self-existence, but the self-existence of Power. The world accordingly
must, in relation to the Power, be thought of as something incomplete in itself
. The one side is represented by the manifoldness of the differences, the infini
te realm of definite existence, the other side accordingly by the substantiality
of the world, though this quality does not attach to the world itself, but is r
ather the identity of the Essence with itself. The world does not maintain itsel
f independently ; on the contrary, its Being-for-self, its real existence, is th
e
Power which maintains itself in the differences, inasmuch as it remains Being-fo
r-self, and thus represents the Being of the world. The world is thus divided wi
thin itself ; regarded from one side it is dependent, selfless difference, and r
egarded from the other side it is its own Being.
The manifestation of the nothingness, of the ideality of this finite existence,
of the fact that Being is here not true independence this manifestation in the f
orm of Power, is Kighteousness, and in this justice is done to finite things. Go
odness and righteousness are not moments of Substance. These characteristics exi
st in Substance in a state of being, and they also are immediately present in it
as not being, as becoming.
Here the One is not thought of as Substance, but as the personal One, as Subject
, and here the determination of the end is the determinateness of the Notion its
elf. The world has to be, and so, too, it has to change, to pass away. Here righ
teousness is thought of as determination of the Subject in its self-differentiat
ion from these determinations which belong to it, from this world which is its o
wn world.
Creation, preservation, passing away are, in the ordinary conception of them, se
parated in time, but in the Notion they are essentially moments only of one proc
ess, namely, of the process of Power. The identity of Power with itself is thus
the Nothing out of which the world has been created, being both the subsistence
of the world and the cancelling and absorbing of this subsistence or independent
existence. This identity of Power which presents itself in the Being of things,
too, is both the Being of things and their Not-Being. In so far as goodness is
concerned, the world exists only as having no justification for its existence in
itself, as upheld and maintained in a contingent way, and in this fact is, at t
he same time, contained its negativity, which owes its existence to righteousnes
s. The characteristics indicated are certainly characteristics of the Notion its
elf, but the subject which possesses then) has not its real nature in them. The
fundamental characteristics are the One and Power, and the Notion, the inmost na
ture of the subject, is posited as still existing independently of the attribute
s. If they really belonged to it, then they would themselves be Totality, for th
e Notion is the absolute goodness, it shares with itself its own characteristics
. In the case of their belonging to the Notion, it would be further implied that
they themselves were the whole Notion, and thus it would be for the first time
truly real ; in which case, however, the Notion would be posited as Idea and the
subject as Spirit, in which goodness and righteousness would be totalities.
But although goodness and righteousness contain the element of difference, they
are not thought of as being the abiding character of Power. Power, on the contra
ry, is by its very nature what is without definite character, what is undetermin
ed, i.e., it shows itself essentially powerful as against these very differences
; its goodness passes over into righteousness, and vice versd. Each being posit
ed for itself excludes the other, while the very nature of Power consists in thi
s, that it simply does away with or cancels the determinateness.
Righteousness is the moment of negation, i.e., it makes manifest the nothingness
of things. Righteousness thus understood is a characteristic, just as originati
on and passing away are in Siva. It simply expresses the general aspect of the p
rocess, the aspect of contingency, the nothingness of which is made plain. It do
es not express negation as an infinite return into self, which would be the char
acteristic of Spirit. Negation is here nothing more than righteousness.
&. The Form of the World.
The world thus regarded is prosaic ; it exists essentially as a collection of th
ings. In the East, and in Greek life particularly, a feeling of delight arises f
rom the friendly and joyous character of the relation in which Man stands to Nat
ure, since Man, in so far as he is related to Nature, is related to the Divine.
By taking up this generous attitude he spiritualises what is natural, makes it i
nto something Divine, gives it a soul.
This unity of the Divine and the natural, this identity of the ideal and the rea
l, is an abstract characterisation, and is easily reached. The true identity is
that which is found in infinite subjectivity, which is not conceived of as neutr
alisation, as a kind of mutual blunting of the characteristics of the two elemen
ts, but as infinite subjectivity, which determines itself, and sets its determin
ations free in the form of a world. At this stage these determinations thus set
free are, in their character as things, at the same time unsubstantial or depend
ent, and this is indeed their true nature. They are not gods, but natural object
s.
These particular moral Powers, which the higher Greek gods essentially are, poss
ess independence only in form, because their content, owing to its particular ch
aracter, is unsubstantial. This is a false form ; the Being of these unsubstanti
al things, which are immediate regarded from the present standpoint, is really c
onceived of as something formal, as something unsubstantial, which conies to hav
e Being not in the shape of absolute divine Being, but Being which is abstract,
one-sided, and since it gets the character of abstract Being, it has attached to
it the categories of Being, and being finite, the categories of the Understandi
ng.
We are in the presence of prosaic things when the world thus exists for us, in t
he presence of external things, existing in accordance with the manifold connect
ion of the Understanding as expressed by ground and consequence, quality, quanti
ty, and all such-like categories of the Understanding.
Nature is here undeified, natural things have no substantiality or independence
in themselves, and the Divine is only in the One. It might well seem to be a mat
ter for regret that Nature should in any religion be undeified, and should get t
he character of what has no divine element in it. We are wont rather to extol th
e unity of the ideal and the real, the unity of Nature and God, and where natura
l things are considered to be freely determined as substantial and divine, it is
the custom to call this the identity of ideality and reality. This is certainly
the Idea, but such a determination of identity is so far very formal, it is che
aply got, and it is to be found everywhere. The main point is the further determ
ination of this identity, and the true one is to be found only in what is spirit
ual, in God, who in a real way determines Himself, so that the moments of His No
tion are at the same time themselves present as totality. Natural things, so far
as their particular existence is concerned, have, as a matter of fact, an impli
cit existence ; looked at through their Notion, their relation to Spirit, to the
Notion, is an external one, and so too Spirit as finite, and appearing as this
particular form of life, is itself external. Life, it is true, is essentially so
mething inward, but the totality referred to, in so far as it is merely life, is
external relatively to the absolute inwardness of Spirit ; abstract self-consci
ousness is equally finite. Natural things, the sphere of finite things, purely a
bstract Being, represent something which in its nature is external to itself. It
is here at this stage that things get the character of externality ; they appea
r in accordance with their Notion in their true nature. If regret be felt that s
uch a position is assigned to Nature, it must at the same time be granted that t
his beautiful union of Nature and God holds good for fancy only, not for reason.
Even those who object so strongly to the undeifying of Nature, and extol that i
dentity, will all the same certainly find it very difficult to believe in a Gang
a, a cow, a monkey, a sea, &c., as God. It is here, on the contrary, that a foun
dation is laid for a more rational way of looking at things and at their connect
ion.
This, however, is not as yet the place at which to give to this form of consciou
s thought theoretic completeness and make it knowledge. In order to do this, the
re must exist a concrete interest for things, and the Essence must be conceived
of not merely as universal, but also as determinate Notion. The definite theoret
ic view of things cannot exist alongside of the popular idea of abstract wisdom
and of one limited end.
The relation of God to the world in general is thus defined as His immediate man
ifestation in it in a particular, individual way, for a definite end in a limite
d sphere, and it is at this point that the definite conception of miracles comes
in. In the earlier religions there are no miracles ; in the religion of India e
verything has been in a deranged state from the very start. The idea of miracle
comes in first in connection with the thought of opposition to the order of Natu
re, to the laws of Nature even when these have not as yet been discovered, but w
hen there is only the consciousness of a natural connection between things of a
general character. It is here we first meet with the miraculous, and the idea wh
ich is formed of it is that God manifests Himself in some individual thing, and
does this at the same time in opposition to the essential character of this thin
g.
The true miracle in Nature is the manifestation of Spirit, and the true manifest
ation of Spirit is fundamentally the Spirit of Man and his consciousness of the
rationality of Nature, his consciousness that in these scattered elements, and i
n these manifold contingent things, conformity to law and reason are essentially
present. In this religion, however, the world appears as a complexity of natura
l things which affect each other in a natural way, and stand in an intelligible
connection with each other, and the necessity for miracles is present co long as
that connection is not conceived of as the objective nature of things, i.e., so
long as God's manifestation in them is not thought of as eternal universal laws
of Nature, and so long as His activity is not thought of as essentially univers
al. The rational connection which is first reached at this stage is only objecti
ve connection, and what it means is that the individual thing as such exists in
its finiteness for itself, and is consequently in an external relation.
Miracle is still conceived of as an accidental manifestation of God ; the univer
sal absolute relation of God to the natural world is, on the other hand, sublimi
ty. We cannot call the infinite Subject conceived of in itself and in its relati
on to itself, sublime, for so thought of, it is in its essential nature absolute
and holy. The idea of sublimity first comes in in connection with the manifesta
tion and relation of this Subject to the world, and when the world is thought of
as a manifestation of the Subject, though as a manifestation which is not affir
mative, or as one which, while it is indeed affirmative, has yet its main charac
teristic in this, that what is natural, what is of the world, is negated as inad
equate to express the Subject, and is known as such.
Sublimity is therefore this particular appearing and manifestation of God in the
world, and it may be defined thus. This act of manifestation shows itself at th
e same time as sublime, as raised above this manifestation in reality. In the Re
ligion of Beauty there is a reconciliation of the signification with the materia
l, of the sensuous mode and Being for an " Other." The spiritual manifests itsel
f entirely in this external way. This external mode is a symbol of what is inner
, and this inner something is completely known in its external form.
The sublimity of the manifestation, on the other hand, directly destroys reality
, the matter and material which belong to it. In His manifestation God directly
distinguishes Himself from it, so that it is expressly known to be inadequate to
manifest Him. The One has not therefore His complete Being and essential existe
nce in the externality of the manifestation as the gods of the Religion of Beaut
y have, and the inadequacy of the manifestation is not something of which there
is no consciousness, but, on the contrary, it is expressly posited along with co
nsciousness as inadequacy.
It is not accordingly enough to constitute sublimity that the content, the Notio
n, be higher than the outward Form, even if this latter be exaggerated and stret
ched beyond its natural measure, but what manifests itself must also be the Powe
r which is above the outward form. In the religion of India the representations
of the Divine are devoid of measure, and yet they are not sublime but are rather
a distortion, or, it may be, they are not distorted, as, for instance, the cow
and the ape, which express the entire power of Nature, yet the signification and
the outward form are not proportionate to each other ; they are not sublime, ho
wever, for indeed it is this want of mutual proportion which is the greatest def
ect. It is accordingly necessary that the Power be at the same time put above th
e outward form.
Man in a state of natural consciousness can have natural things present before h
im, but his spult does not suit with such a content. The mere act of looking aro
und gives nothing sublime, but rather the glance towards heaven which is above a
nd beyond what lies .around. This sublimity is in a special sense the character
of God in relation to natural things. The Old Testament Scriptures are extolled
because of the presence in them of this sublimity. "And God said, Let there be l
ight, and there was light." Here we have one of the sublimest passages. The Word
represents the greatest possible absence of effort, and this breathing is here
at the same time light, the world of light, the infinite pouring forth of light
; and thus light is degraded to the rank of a word, to something so transitory a
s a word. God is further represented as using the wind and the lightning as serv
ants and messengers, Nature is so obedient to Him. It is said, " From Thy breath
the worlds proceed ; before Thy threatenings they flee away ; if Thou openest T
hine hand, they are filled with good ; if Thou hidest Thy face, they are trouble
d ; if Thou boldest in Thy breath, they pass away into dust ; if Thou sendest it
forth, they spring up again." Sublimity consists in this, that Nature is repres
ented as thus entirely negated, in subjection, transitory.
C. THE END GOD WORKS OUT IN THE WORLD.
First Determination. The determination of the end appears here as the essential
one that God is wise, to begin with wise in Nature generally. Nature is His crea
ture, and He lets His power be known in it, though not His power only, but His w
isdom as well. This wisdom reveals itself in what it produces by the presence of
arrangement in accordance with an end.
This end has rather the character of something indeterminate, superficial ; the
conformity to an end is rather of an external kind, " Thou givest to the beast i
ts food." The true end and the true realisation of the end are not present withi
n Nature as such, but rather they are essentially to be found in consciousness.
He manifests Himself in Nature, but His essential appearing is that He appears i
n consciousness, in His reflection or reappearance, in such a way that in self-c
onsciousness it reappears that His end is just to be known by consciousness, and
that He is an end for consciousness.
Sublimity, to begin with, gives only the general idea of power, and not as yet t
hat of an end. The end is not only the One, the truth rather being that only God
 Himself can be His end, and this means that His Notion becomes objective for Hi
m, and that He possesses Himself in the realisation. This is the universal end i
n. 'general. If, accordingly, turning our attention to the : world, to Nature, w
e here seek to regard it as the end of God, then we see that it is His power onl
y that is manifested in it, it is only His power that becomes objective to Him i
n it, and wisdom is as yet quite abstract. When we speak of an end, it must not
be thought of as simply power ; it must have a really determinate character. Spi
rit is, in fact, the region in which it can be present, and since God is end in
Spirit as consciousness, in Spirit which is posited over against Him, and here,
therefore, in the finite spirit as such, His end in the finite spirit is His rep
resentation, His recognition. God here has the finite spirit over against Him. B
eing-other, or otherness, is not as yet posited as having absolutely returned in
to itself. The finite spirit is essentially consciousness. God must, therefore,
be an object of consciousness as being the Essence, i.e., in such a way as to be
acknowledged and extolled. It is the glory of God which is, to begin with, His
end. God's reflex presence in self-consciousness, taken generally, is not yet kn
own. God is only recognised, but if He is also to be really known or cognised, t
hen it is necessary that He, as Spirit, should posit differences in Himself. Her
e He has as yet only the abstract characterisations referred to.
Thus at this stage the thought that religion, as such, is the end, is an essenti
al characteristic, which means that God becomes consciously known in self-consci
ousness, that He is object in it, and has an affirmative relation to it. He is G
od as being infinite power and subjectivity in Himself. The second point is that
He manifests Himself, and that this should be essentially in another spirit, wh
ich, as finite, stands in an objective relation to Him. Thus the characteristic
which comes in here is the acknowledgment and exaltation of God, the glory of Go
d, His universal glory, for not only the Jewish nation, but the whole earth, all
peoples, all nations are to praise the Lord. This end, namely, that He should b
e recognised, known, honoured by consciousness, may, to start with, be called th
e theoretic end. Its more definite form is that of the practical end, the peculi
arly real end, which realises itself in the world, but always in the spiritual w
orld.
Second Determination. This essential end is the moral end, morality, signifying
that Man, in what he does, lias present to his mind what is in accordance with l
aw, what is right. This element of law of what is right is the Divine element, a
nd in so far as it belongs to the world, and is present in finite consciousness,
it is something which has been posited by God.
God is the Universal. The man who guides himself and his will in accordance with
this universal is the free man, and thus represents the universal will, and not
his own particular morality. The doing of what is right is here the fundamental
characteristic, walking before God, freedom from selfish ends, the righteousnes
s which has worth before God.
Man does what is thus declared to be right in reference to God with a view to th
e glory of God. This right-doing has its seat in the will, in the inner nature o
f man ; and, in contrast to this exercise of will in reference to God, we have t
he natural state of existence, of Man, and of what acts.
Just as we saw that in Nature there was a broken up or disjointed state of thing
s, that God existed independently while Nature had Being, but was yet something
in subjection, so too we see exactly the same distinction in the human spirit ;
we have right-doing as such, then, again the natural existence of Man. This, how
ever, is equally something determined by means of the spiritual relation of the
will, just as Nature in general is something posited by the absolute Spirit.
The natural existence of Man, his outward worldly existence, is placed in direct
relation to what is inward. If this will of his is a substantial, essential wil
l, action is right action ; and so, too, Man's external existence ought to be in
keeping with this something which is inward and right. It can go well with Man
only according to his works, and he must not only conduct himself morally in a g
eneral way, respect the laws of his country, and sacrifice himself for his count
ry, happen what may, but there arises a definite demand that it should also go w
ell with whoever does right.
An essential point here is that real existence, definite Being in an external fo
rm, be made to correspond with, brought into subjection to, and determined in ac
cordance with, what is inner, and right. This essential condition enters here in
consequence of, and on the basis of, the fundamental relation of God to the nat
ural finite world.
There is here an end, and one which must be carried out, namely, this difference
, which must at the same time come to be in a state of harmony, so as to show th
atnatural existence governs itself, and bears witness to what is essential, to w
hat is spiritual. So far as Man is concerned, he must be determined, governed, b
y what is truly inward, by right-doing.
In this way the well-being of Man is divinely guaranteed, but it is so guarantee
d only in so far as it is in conformity with the Divine, the moral, divine law.
This is the band of necessity, which, however, is no longer blind, as we shall s
ee it is in other religions, where it is only the empty indeterminate necessity
from which the Notion is absent, so that the Concrete is outside of it. The gods
, the moral Powers, are subject to necessity, but the necessity is not character
ised by the presence in it of what is moral and right.
Here necessity is concrete, in the sense that what has essential Being, Being in
and for itself, gives laws, wills the Right, the Good, and as a consequence of
this, this Being has an affirmative definite Being which is adequate to it, an e
xistence which is a state of well-being or welfare. It is this kind of harmony o
f which Man is conscious in this sphere of thought.
It is on this that is founded the belief that it must, nay, that it ought, to go
well with him. He is an end for God, and he is this as being a whole.. And yet
he, as constituting a whole, is himself something differentiated or distinct, si
nce he has the power of willing and an external existence. The conscious subject
now knows that God is the bond of this necessity, that He is this unity which b
rings about a state of well-being proportionate to the well-doing, and that this
connection exists, for the divine universal will is at the same time the will w
hich is determined in itself, and has consequently the power to bring about that
connection.
The consciousness that these are thus joined together constitutes that faith, th
at confidence, which is a fundamental and praiseworthy trait of the Jewish peopl
e. The Old Testament Scriptures, the Psalms especially, are full of this confide
nce.
This, too, is the line of thought which is represented in the Book of Job, the o
nly book the connection of which with the standpoint of the Jewish people is not
sufficiently recognised. Job extols his innocence, finds his destiny unjust, he
is discontented, i.e., there is in him a contradiction the consciousness of the
righteousness which is absolute, and the want of correspondence between his con
dition and this righteousness. It is recognised as being an end which God has th
at He makes things go well with the good man.
What the argument points to is that this discontent, this despondency, ought to
be brought under the control of pure and absolute confidence. Job asks, " What d
oth God give me as a reward from on high ? Should it not be the unrighteous man
who is rejected thus ? " His friends answer in the same sense, only they put it
in the reverse way, " Because thou art unhappy, therefore we conclude that thou
art not righteous." God does this in order that He may protect man from the sin
of pride.
God Himself at last speaks : " Who is this that talks thus without understanding
? Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth ? " Then comes a ver
y beautiful and magnificent description of God's power, and Job says, " I know i
t ; he is a man without knowledge who thinks he may hide his counsel." This subj
ection is what is finally reached ; on the one hand, there is the demand that it
should go well with the righteous, and on the other, even the feeling of discon
tent when this is not the case, has to be given up. It is this resignation, this
acknowledgment of God's power, which restores to Job his property and the happi
ness he had before. It is on this acknowledgment of God's power that there follo
ws the re-establishment of his happiness. Still, at the same time, this good for
tune is not regarded as something which can be demanded by finite man as a right
, independent of the power of God.
This confidence in God, this unity, and the consciousness of this harmony of the
power, and at the same time of the wisdom and righteousness of God, is based on
the thought that God is determined within Himself as end, and has an end.
We have further to consider in this connection this fact, that Spirit becomes in
ward, the movement of Spirit within itself. Man must do right. That is the one a
bsolute command, and this doing of what is right has its seat in his will. Man i
s by this means thrown back upon his inner nature, and he must occupy himself in
thus considering his inner life, and finding out whether it is righteous, wheth
er or not his will is good.
This examination into and anxiety about what is wrong, the crying of the soul af
ter God, this descent into the depths of the spirit, this yearning of the spirit
after what is right, after what is in conformity with the will of God, is somet
hing specially characteristic of this form of religion.
This end further appears as being at the same time limited. The end is, that men
should know and acknowledge God, that what they do they should do for the glory
of God ; that what they will should be in accordance with God's will, and that
their will should be a true will. This end has, at the same time, a limitation a
ttached to it, and we have to consider in how far this limitation belongs to the
essential .nature of God, to what extent the conception, the ordinary idea of G
od itself, still contains this limitation.
If the ordinary or popular idea of God is limited, those further realisations of
the divine conception in human consciousness are limited also. What is always m
ost essential, but is also most difficult, is to understand the presence of the
limitation in One, and to recognise that it is at the same time a limitation of
the Idea, and in such a way that this latter does not yet appear as the absolute
Idea.
God, as the one who determines Himself in His freedom and according to His freed
om in such a way that what is spiritual is free, is wisdom ; but this wisdom, th
is end, is at first merely end and wisdom in general. The wisdom of God, His sel
f-determination, have not yet received their development. This development withi
n the Idea of God is first found in the religion in which the nature of God is e
ntirely revealed.
The defect of this Idea is that though God is the One, He is this in Himself onl
y in the determinateness of His unity, and is not what eternally develops itself
within itself. There is not as yet any developed determination. What we call wi
sdom is so far something abstract abstract universality.
The real end which we have is the first end. It exists as an end of God in Spiri
t as actual, and thus it must have universality in itself, it must be a divine a
nd true end in itself, and one which has substantial universality. A substantial
end in Spirit means that the spiritual individuals know themselves to be one, a
nd act towards each other as one and are in unity. The end is a moral one, and i
t finds its sphere in real freedom. It is that part of thought in which what is
practical comes into play, an end in actual consciousness. It is, however, a fir
st end, and the morality connected with it is of the immediate natural kind. The
end is thus the family and the connection of the family. It is this one particu
lar family exclusive of all others.
The real immediate first end of divine wisdom is thus still quite limited, quite
particular, just because it is the first end. God is absolute wisdom, but He is
this in the sense of being entirely abstract wisdom, or, to put it otherwise, t
he end in the divine notion is one which is as yet purely general, and is conseq
uently an end devoid of content. This indeterminate end thus devoid of content,
changes in actual existence into immediate particularity, into the most perfect
limitation ; or, in other words, the state of potentiality in which wisdom still
exists is itself immediacy, naturalness.
God's real end is thus the family, and in fact this particular family, for the i
dea of many single families already gives proof of the extension of the thought
of singleness by means of reflection. "We have here a noteworthy, and absolutely
rigid contrast in fact, the most rigid possible contrast. God is, on the one ha
nd, the God of heaven and of earth, absolute wisdom, universal power, and the en
d aimed at by this God is at the same time so limited that it concerns only one
family, only this one people. All peoples, it is true, ought also to acknowledge
Him and praise His name, but His actual work and that which has been really acc
omplished consists of this particular people only, regarded in their general con
dition and definite existence, in their inner and outer, political and moral act
ually existing condition. God is thus only the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of
Jacob, the God who has brought us out of Egypt. Since God is only One, He is pre
sent also only in one universal spirit, in one family, in one world. The familie
s as families come first, those which were brought out of Egypt are the nation,
and here it is the heads of the family who constitute the definite element of th
e end. Universality is thus still something natural, and the end is accordingly
only human, and is therefore the family. Religion is thus patriarchal, and it is
accordingly the family which expands into the people. A nation means a people,
because, to begin with, it has its origin in Nature. This is the limited end, an
d in reference to all others it is exclusively the divine end.
The five Books of Moses start with the creation of the world, and immediately af
ter we come upon the Tall, which has to do with the nature of man as man. This u
niversal element present in the creation of the world, and next that fall of man
, and of man in his generic character, are ideas which, have had no influence on
the form subsequently taken by the Jewish religion. We have merely this prophec
y, the universal element in which did not become a truth for the Israelitish peo
ple. God is only the God of this people, not the God of men, and this people is
God's people.
It may be further remarked, with the view of making more generally intelligible
the connection between the universal wisdom of God in itself and the completely
limited nature of the real end, that when man wills the universal good, and has
this as his end, he has made his arbitrary will the principle of his resolves an
d his acts. For this universal good, this universal end, does not contain within
itself the Other, the Particular. When, however, it is necessary to act, then t
his real end demands something determinate, and this determinateness lies outsid
e of the Notion, since the latter has no such determinateness in itself, but is
still abstract, and the particular end is for this reason not yet sanctified, be
cause it has not yet been taken up into the universal end of the Good.
In politics, if it is only universal laws which are to hold sway, then the gover
ning element is force, the arbitrary will of the individual. The law is real onl
y in so far as it is made particular, for it is through its being made particula
r that the universal first becomes something living.
The other peoples are shut out from this single real end. The People has its own
peculiar nationality, and .consists of certain families and the members of thes
e. This privilege of belonging to the People, and consequently of standing to Go
d in this relation, rests on birth. This naturally demands a special' constituti
on, special laws, ceremonies, and worship.
The peculiarity connected with the end is further developed so as to include the
possession of a special district. This district or soil must be divided amongst
the different families, and is inalienable, so that the excluding of other peop
les results in gaining this wholly empirical and external Present. This exclusio
n is, in the first instance, not polemical, but, on the other hand, it is the sp
ecial possession which is the reality, the individual enjoyment of this individu
al people, and the relation of the individual people to the almighty, all-wise G
od. It is not polemical, i.e., the other peoples can also be brought into this r
elation to adore God in this way. They ought to glorify the Lord, but that they
should come to do this is not a real end. The obligation is only ideal and not p
ractical. This real end appears first in Mohammedanism, where the particular end
is raised to the rank of a general one, and thus becomes fanatical.
Fanaticism, it is true, is found amongst the Jews as well, but it comes into pla
y only in so far as their possession, their religion, is attacked, and it comes
into play then because it is only this one end which is by its very nature exclu
sive and will tolerate no accommodation to anything different, no fellowship, no
intercourse with it.
Third Determination. Man is exalted above all else in the whole creation. He is
something which knows, perceives, thinks. He is thus the image of God in a sense
quite other than that in which the same is true of the world. What is experienc
ed in religion is God, He who is thought, and it is only in thought that God is
worshipped. In the religion of the Parsis we had dualism, and the idea of contra
st implied in this we have in the Jewish religion as well. The contrast or oppos
ition does not,, however, occur in God, but is found in the spirit which is His
" Other." God is Spirit, and what He has produced, namely, the world, is also Sp
irit, and it is in this latter that He is in Himself the " Other " of His essenc
e. What is involved in finitude is, that in it difference appears as division. I
n the world God is at home with Himself; it is good, for the Nothing or non-exis
tence which belongs to it, and out of which the world has been created, is the A
bsolute itself. The world, however, as representing this first act of judgment,
of separation, on God's part, does not get the length of being absolute contrast
. It is only Spirit which is capable of being this absolute contrast, and it is
this which gives it its depth. The contrast or opposition exists within the othe
r spirit, which is consequently the finite spirit. This is the place where the c
ontest between good and evil goes on, and it is the place, too, in which this fi
ght must be fought out. All these characteristics arise out of the nature of the
Notion. This opposition is a difficult point, for it constitutes the contradict
ion, which may be stated thus : the Good is not contradictory in virtue of its o
wn nature, but rather it is by means of evil that contradiction first enters, an
d it occurs only in evil. But then the question arises : How has evil come into
the world ? At this stage such a question has both meaning and interest. In the
religion of the Parsis this question cannot occasion any difficulty, for there t
he Evil exists quite as much as the Good. Both have sprung from something which
is devoid of all definite character. Here, on the other hand, where God is power
and the one Subject, and where everything depends for its existence solely on H
im, evil is a contradiction, for God is certainly the absolute Good. An old pict
orial representation of this, namely, the Fall, has been preserved in the Bible.
This well-known account of how evil came into the world is in the form of a myt
h, and appears at the same time in the guise of a parable. Of course when a spec
ulative idea, something true, is thus represented in a sensuous figure, in the f
orm of* something which has actually happened, it can hardly miss having certain
traits about it which don'c fittingly express the truth itself. You find the sa
me thing in Plato when he speaks in pictorial language of the Ideas, for there,
too, the inadequacy of the picture to express the truth is apparent. This is how
the narrative runs : After the creation of Adam and Eve in Paradise, God forbad
e the first human beings to eat of a certain tree. The serpent, however, mislead
s them, and gets them to eat of it by saying, "You will become like God." God th
en imposes a severe penalty on them, but at the same time says, " See, Adam is b
ecome as one of us, for he knows what is good and evil." Looked at from this par
ticular side, man, according to God's declaration, has become God, but regarded
from the other side, this means that God has cut off man's chance of reaching Hi
m by this path, inasmuch as He drives him out of Paradise. This simple story may
, to begin with, be taken as embodying something like the following meaning. God
laid down a command, and man, impelled by a boundless feeling of pride which le
d him to wish to be equal to God (a thought which came to him from the outside),
transgresses this command, and for his miserable silly pride it was ordained th
at he should be severely punished. God laid down that command formally only, wit
h the view of putting him in circumstances in which his obedience might be prove
d.
According to this explanation, everything takes place in accordance with the ord
inary finite laws of cause and effect. God, undoubtedly, forbids evil, but such
a prohibition is something wholly different from the prohibition to eat of a cer
tain tree. What God wills or does not will must represent His true eternal natur
e. Such a prohibition is further thought of as having been imposed only on a sin
gle individual, and man justly rebels against being punished for guilt that is n
ot his own he will only answer for what he has done himself.
On the other hand, in the story, regarded as a whole, there is a deep philosophi
cal meaning. It is Adam, or man in general, who appears in this narrative. What
is here related concerns the nature of man himself, and it is not a formal child
ish command which God lays on him, for the tree of which Adam is not to eat is c
alled the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and thus the idea of a tree wi
th an outward definite form disappears. Man eats of it, and he attains to the kn
owledge of good and evil. The difficulty, however, is that it is said God forbad
e man to reach this knowledge, for it is just this knowledge which constitutes t
he character of Spirit. Spirit is Spirit only through consciousness, and it is j
ust in this knowledge that consciousness in its highest form is found. How, then
, could this prohibition have been given ? Cognition, knowledge, represents this
two-sided dangerous gift. Spirit is free, and to this freedom good as well as e
vil is referred, and it thus contains the power of arbitrary choice to do what i
s evil. This is the negative side attaching to the affirmative side of freedom r
eferred to. Man, it is said, was in a state of innocence ; this is, in fact, the
condition of the natural consciousness, but it must be done away with as soon a
s the consciousness of Spirit actually appears. That represents eternal history,
and the nature of man. He is at first natural and innocent, and incapable, cons
equently, of having moral acts attributed to him. In the child there is no freed
om, and yet it belongs to the essential character of man that he should once mor
e reach innocence. What is his final destiny is here represented as his primitiv
e condition the harmony between man and the Good. The defect in this pictorial r
epresentation is that this unity is described as a condition of immediate Being.
It is necessary to pass out of this condition of original naturalness, but the
state of separation or disunion which then arises has to pass into a state of re
conciliation again. Here this idea of reconciliation is represented by the thoug
ht that man ought not to have passed beyond that first condition. In the whole o
f this pictorial account, what is inward is expressed in terms of what is outwar
d, and what is necessary in terms of what is contingent. The serpent says that A
dam will become like God, and God confirms the truth of this, and adds His testi
mony that it is this knowledge which constitutes likeness to God. This is the pr
ofound idea lodged in the narrative.
But further, a punishment is next inflicted on man. He is driven out of Paradise
, and God says, " Cursed be the ground for thy sake, in sorrow shalt thou eat wh
at it brings forth to thee ; thorns and thistles shall it bear to thee, and thou
shalt eat the herb of the field. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat thy br
ead, and thou shalt return unto the ground, for out of it wast thou taken ; for
dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return."
We have to recognise that here we have the consequences of finitude ; but, on th
e other hand, the greatness of man just consists in the fact that he eats his br
ead in the sweat of his brow, and that through his own activity, his work, and t
he exercise of his understanding, he wins sustenance for himself. Animals have t
he happy lot, if you like to call it so, of being supplied by Nature with what t
hey need. Man, on the other hand, elevates what is necessary to this natural lif
e to the rank of something connected with his freedom. This is just the employme
nt of his freedom, though it is not the highest form in which lie employs it, fo
r that consists rather in knowing and willing the Good. The fact that man regard
ed from the natural side is also free, is involved in his nature, and is not to
be considered as in itself punishment. The sorrow of the natural life is essenti
ally connected with the greatness of the character and destiny of man. For him w
ho is not yet acquainted with the loftier nature of Spirit, it is a sad thought
that man must die, and this natural sorrow is, as it were, for him what is final
. The lofty nature and destiny of Spirit, however, just consists in the fact tha
t it is eternal and immortal ; still, this greatness of man, this greatness of c
onsciousness, is not yet contained in this narrative, for it is said : God said,
" And now, lest he put forth his hand and take also of the tree of life, and ea
t and live for ever" (iii. ). Then further (v. ), " Till thou return unto the gr
ound whence thou wast taken." The consciousness of the immortality of Spirit is
not yet present in this religion.
In the entire narrative of the Fall these grand features are present in what has
the appearance of being an illogical form, owing to the pictorial style in whic
h the whole is presented to us. The advance out of the merely natural life, and
the necessity for the entrance of the consciousness of good and evil, constitute
the lofty thought to which God Himself here gives utterance. What is defective
in the account is that death is described in such a way as to leave the impressi
on that there is no place for consolation in regard to it. The fundamental note
of the account is that man ought not to be natural, and in this is contained the
thought expressed in true theology, that man is by nature evil. Evil consists i
n resting in this natural state ; man must advance out of this state by exercisi
ng his freedom, his will. The further development of this thought accordingly in
volves that Spirit should once more attain to absolute unity within itself, to a
state of reconciliation, and freedom is just what contains this turning back of
Spirit into itself, this reconciliation with itself. Here, however, this conver
sion or turning back has not yet taken place ; the difference has not yet been t
aken up into God, i.e., has not yet reached a state of reconciliation. The abstr
action of evil lias not yet disappeared.
It has to be observed farther that this story ceased to have a living interest f
or the Jewish people, and that it did not receive any further development in the
Books of the Hebrews. If we except some allusions in the later apocryphal books
, it is not mentioned, speaking generally, in the others. For a long time it lay
un worked, and it was in Christianity that it was first to attain its true sign
ificance. Still it cannot at all be said that man's conflict within himself is s
omething which did not exist amongst the Jewish people. Ou the contrary, it cons
titutes an essential characteristic of the religious spirit amongst the Hebrews,
 but it was not conceived of in the speculative sense as implying that it arises
from the nature of man himself, being represented rather as contingent, as taki
ng place in single individuals. In contrast to the sinner and the man who is in
conflict with himself, we get the picture of the righteous man, in whom evil and
the conflict with it are represented as not being an essential moment in his li
fe, but rather righteousness is thought of as consisting in the doing of God's w
ill, and in being steadfast in the service of Jehovah by observing the moral com
mandments connected alike with the precepts of ritual and the requirements of st
ate law. Still the conflict of man within himself is apparent everywhere, especi
ally in the Psalms of David. Sorrow cries out of the innermost depths of the sou
l conscious of its sinf illness, and as a consequence we find the most sorrowful
prayers for pardon and reconciliation. This deep sorrow is thus undoubtedly pre
sent, but it appears rather as belonging to the single individual than as someth
ing which is known to be an eternal moment of Spirit.
These are the principal moments of the religion of the One, so far as they conce
rn particularisation and the determination of an end on the part of the One. Thi
s latter determination brings us to worship.
D. WORSHIP.
God has essentially a relation to self-consciousness, since it is the finite spi
rit which constitutes the sphere in which His end appears. We have now to consid
er the religious sentiment or feeling of religion as seen in this self-conscious
ness. The mediation which it needs, in so far as it is feeling, is the positing
of the identity, which is potentially posited, and is thus the mediating movemen
t. This feeling represents the most inward movement of self-consciousness.
i. Self-consciousness brings itself into relation with the One, and is thus, to
begin with, intuition, pure thought of the pure Essence as pure power and absolu
te Being, alongside of which nothing else of equal value can be put. This pure t
hought, therefore, as reflection into self, as self-consciousness, is self-consc
iousness with the character of infinite Being for self, or freedom, but freedom
devoid of all concrete content. This self-consciousness is thus as yet distinct
from real consciousness, and nothing of all the concrete characteristics of spir
itual and natural life, of the fulness of consciousness, of the impulses, inclin
ations, and of all that belongs to the realm of spiritual relations, nothing of
all this has as yet been taken up into the consciousness of freedom. The reality
of life has still a place outside of the consciousness of freedom, and this las
t is not yet rational, it is still abstract, and no full, concrete, divine consc
iousness is as yet in existence. Since, therefore, self-consciousness exists onl
y as consciousness, while, however, in the way of an object for the simplicity o
f thought there exists as yet no corresponding object, and since the determinate
ness of consciousness has not yet been taken up into it, the Ego is an object fo
r itself only in its abstract state of unity with itself only as immediate parti
cularity. Self-consciousness is accordingly devoid of expansion and extension, d
evoid of all concrete specification, and God as infinite power is also without d
eterminate character in Himself, and there is no third thing, no definite form o
f existence in which they might meet. So far it is a condition of unmediated rel
ation, and the two contrasted elements the relation to the One in pure thought a
nd intuition, and abstract return into self, Being for self, are immediately uni
ted. Since, then, self-consciousness, as distinguished from its object, which is
pure thought and can only be grasped in thought, is empty, formal self-consciou
sness, naked and devoid of specific character in itself, and since, further, all
real concrete specification belongs to power only, in this absolute contrast th
e pure freedom of self-consciousness is turned into absolute absence of freedom,
or, in other words, self-consciousness is the self-consciousness of a servant i
n relation to a master. The fear of the Lord is the fundamental characteristic o
f the relation which here exists.
I have a general feeling of fear produced by the idea of a Power above me, which
negates my value as a person, whether that value appears in an outward or in an
inward way as something belonging to me. I am without fear when, on the one han
d, in virtue of possessing an invulnerable independence, I disregard the force a
bove me, and know myself to be power as against it in such a way that it has no
influence over me ; and, on the other hand, I am without fear too when I disrega
rd those interests which this Power is in a position to destroy, and in this way
remain uninjured even when I am injured. Fear has commonly a bad meaning attach
ed to it, as if it implied that the person who experiences fear did not wish to
represent himself as power, and was not capable of doing so. But the fear here s
poken of is not the fear of what is finite or of finite force. The finite is con
tingent power, which, apart from any fear felt, can seize and injure me ; but, o
n the other hand, the fear here spoken of is the fear of the Uuseeu, of the Abso
lute, the counterpart of my consciousness, the consciousness of the self which i
s infinite as opposed to me the finite self. Before the consciousness of this Ab
solute, as being the one single purely negative Power, special forces of any kin
d disappear, everything which has the mark of the earthly nature upon it simply
perishes. This fear, in the form of this absolute negativity of oneself, is the
elevation of consciousness to the pure thought of the absolute power of the One.
And this fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, which consists in not all
owing the particular, the finite by itself, to have a valid existence as somethi
ng independent. What has a valid existence can have this only as a moment in the
organisation of the One, and the One is the abrogation of all that is finite. T
his wise fear is the one essential moment of freedom, and consists in being free
d from all that is particular, in breaking away from all accidental interests, a
nd in general, in the feeling on man's part of the negativity of all that is par
ticular. It is accordingly not a particular fear of any particular thing, but, o
n the contrary, it consists in the positing of this particular fear as a thing o
f nought ; it is deliverance from fear. Thus fear is not the feeling of dependen
ce, but rather it is the stripping oneself of dependence of every kind ; it is p
ure surrender of self to the absolute Self, in contrast to which and into which
the particular self melts away and disappears.
In this way, however, the subject is only in the infinite One. Absolute negativi
ty, however, is relation to self, affirmation ; by means of absolute fear the Se
lf accordingly exists, and exists in its selfsurrender, in the absolutely positi
ve. Fear in this way changes inlo absolute confidence, infinite faith. At anothe
r stage confidence can take the form of a state in which the individual relies u
pon himself. This is the stoical freedom in chains. Here, however, freedom does
not as yet take on this form of subjectivity, but rather self-consciousness has
to sink itself in the One, while this latter, again, represented as the Other, i
s the principle of repulsion, in which self-consciousness regains its selfcertai
nty. This process can be conceived of under the following form.
The state of servitude is, in fact, self-consciousness, reflection into self and
freedom, which, however, is devoid of all general extension and rationality, an
d finds its determinateness, its content, in the immediate sensuous self-conscio
usness. It is the " I " as this particular individual, in immediate particularit
y, which is accordingly end and content. In the relation in which he stands to h
is Lord the servant finds his absolute, essential selfconsciousness, and in view
of Him he annihilates everything in himself. It is, however, just because of th
is that he regains his position as existing absolutely for himself, and his part
icularity or individuality just because it has been taken up into that intuition
of the Absolute and is made to form its concrete side, is, owing to this relati
on, absolutely justified. The fear in which the servant regards himself as nothi
ng, gains for him the restoration of his justification. But because the servile
consciousness rests obstinately on its particularity, and because its particular
ity has been taken up into the unity immediately, it is exclusive, and God is .
. The exclusive Lord and God of the Jewish people. It need not surprise us that
an Oriental nation should limit religion to itself, and that this religion shoul
d appear as absolutely connected with its nationality, for we see this in . East
ern countries in general. The Greeks and the Romans were the first to adopt fore
ign forms of worship, and all kinds of religion were introduced amongst the latt
er, and did not rank as national. In Oriental countries, however, religion is es
sentially closely connected with nationality. The Chinese, the Persians, have th
eir State religion, which is for them only. Amongst the Hindus birth determines
for every individual even his rank and his relation to Brahma, and accordingly t
hey do not in any way demand that others should adopt their religion ; in fact,
amongst the Hindus, such a demand has no meaning whatever, since, according to t
heir ideas, all the various peoples of the earth belong to their religion, and f
oreign nations are reckoned collectively as belonging to a particular caste. Sti
ll this exclusiveness is rightly regarded as more striking in the case of the Je
wish people, for such strong attachment to nationality is in complete contradict
ion with the idea that God is to be conceived of only in universal thought, and
not in one particular characterisation. Amongst the Persians God is The Good. Th
at is also a universal characteristic ; but it is itself still in the condition
of immediacy, consequently God is identical with light, and that is a form of pa
rticularity. The Jewish God exists only for Thought, and that stands in contrast
with the idea of the limitation of God to the nation. It is true that amongst t
he Jewish people, too, consciousness rises to the thought of universality, and t
his thought is given expression to in several places. Psalm cxvii. I : " praise
the Lord, all ye nations, praise him, all ye peoples. For his grace and truth ar
e great toward us to all eternity." The glory of God is to be made manifest amon
gst all peoples, and it is in the later prophets particularly that this universa
lity makes its appearance as a higher demand. Isaiah makes God even say, " Of th
e heathen who shall honour Jehovah will I make priests and Levites ; " and a sim
ilar idea is expressed also in the words, " In every nation he that feareth God
and worketh righteousness is accepted with Him." All this, however, comes later.
According to the dominant fundamental idea, the Jewish people are the chosen pe
ople, and the universality is thus reduced to particularity. But as we have alre
ady seen above in the development of the Divine end how the limitation attached
to this is based on the limitation which is still involved in the characterisati
on of God, so now this limitation is explained for us from the nature of the ser
vile consciousness ; and we see too, now, how this particularity arises from the
subjective side. This honouring and recognition of Jehovah is something which i
s peculiar to them, those servants, and they have themselves the consciousness t
hat it is peculiar to them.
This harmonises, too, with the history of the people. The Jewish God is the God
of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, the God who brought the Jews out of Egypt, a
nd there is not the slightest trace of the thought that God may have done other
things as well, and that He has acted in an affirmative way amongst other people
s too. Here, therefore, it is from the subjective side, from the side of worship
, that the idea of particularity comes in, and in any case it can be said that G
od is the God of those who honour Him, for it is God's nature to be known in the
subjective spirit, and to know Himself there. This is a moment which essentiall
y belongs to the idea of God. The act of knowing, of acknowledging, belongs esse
ntially to this characterisation or determination. This often comes out in what
is for us a distorted way, when, for instance, God is said to be mightier and st
ronger than the other gods, exactly as if there were gods besides Him ; for the
Jews, however, these are false gods.
There is this particular nation which honours Him, and so He is the God of this
nation, its Lord, in fact. It is He who is known as the Creator of heaven and ea
rth, He has set bounds and limits for everything and bestowed on everything its
peculiar nature, and so too He has given to man his proper place and his rights.
This expresses the characterisation according to which He as Lord gives His peo
ple laws, laws which have to do with the entire sphere of their actions, both th
e universal laws, the Ten Commandments which are the universal, ethical, legal,
fundamental, characteristics of lawgiving and morality, and which are not held t
o be laws given by reason, but rather laws written down by God and also all the
rest of the State laws and regulations. Moses is called the lawgiver of the Jews
, but he was not to the Jews what Lycurgus and Solon were to the Greeks, for the
se two gave as men their own laws. He only made the laws of Jehovah known ; it w
as Jehovah Himself who, according to the story, engraved them ou the stone. Atta
ched to the most trifling regulations, the arrangement of the tabernacle, the us
ages in connection with sacrifices, and everything relating to all other kinds o
f ceremonial, you find in the Bible the formula " Jehovah saith." All law is giv
en by the Lord, and is thus entirely positive commandment. There is in it a form
al, absolute authority. The particular elements in the political system are not,
speaking generally, developed out of the universal end, nor is it left to man t
o give it its special character, for the Unity does not permit human caprice, hu
man reason, to exist alongside of it, and political change is in every instance
called a falling away from God ; but, on the other hand, the particular laws, as
being something given by God, are regarded as eternally established. And here t
he eternal laws of what is right, of morality, are placed in the same rank and s
tated in an equally positive form with the most trifling regulations. Tnis const
itutes a strong contrast to the conception which we have of God. Worship is now
the service of God ; the good man, the righteous man, is he who performs this se
rvice, by keeping and observing both the moral commandments and also the ceremon
ial laws. This is the service of the Lord.
The people of God is accordingly a people adopted by covenant and contract on th
e conditions of fear and service. That is to say, the self-conscious community i
s no longer an original and immediate unity in union with the Essence, as is the
case in the Religion of Nature. The external form of the Essence in the Religio
u of Nature is only a pictorial representation of Nature, an outer covering whic
h does not truly separate the two sides of what constitutes the religious relati
on, and is therefore only an unessential separation of the two, only a superfici
al distinction. The present standpoint, on the contrary, is based in the first i
nstance on absolute reflection into self as abstract Being-for-self, and it is h
ere accordingly that the mediation of the relation between self-consciousness an
d its absolute Essence comes in. The selfconsciousness does not, however, repres
ent man as man in the sense of universality. The religious relation is something
special, which, regarded from the point of view of man, may be called contingen
t, for all that is finite is external to Absolute Power, and contains in it no p
ositive character. This particularity of the religious relation is not, however,
a particularity amongst others, but is rather a separate, infinite preference.
Because of the character which thus attaches to the relation, the latter finds e
xpression in the thought that this people has been adopted on the condition of i
ts having the fundamental feeling of its dependence, i.e., of its servitude. Thi
s relation between the infinite Power and what has independent Being is accordin
gly not one which is posited essentially and originally, or has come into existe
nce only through the love of God to man, but rather this unity has been establis
hed in an external way through a contract. And, in fact, this adoption of the Pe
ople is something which has taken place once for all, and occupies the place of
what in revealed religion in its completed form is known as redemption and recon
ciliation.
Closely connected with the representation of God as the Lord is the fact that th
e Jewish people gave themselves wholly up to His service. It is this which expla
ins, too, that marvellous steadfastness which was n.ot a fanaticism of conversio
n like Mohammedanism, which is already purified from the idea of nationality and
recognises believers only, but a fanaticism of stubbornness. It rests entirely
on the abstraction of one Lord ; the idea of vacillation comes into the mind onl
y when various interests and points of view exist alongside of each other, and i
n such a struggle it is possible to take one side or the other, but in this stat
e of concentration of thought on one Lord, the mind is completely held fast to o
ne side. The consequence of this is that in view of the existence of this firm b
ond there is no freedom. Thought is simply bound on to this unity, which is the
absolute authority. Many further consequences follow from this. Amongst the Gree
ks, too, it is true, certain institutions were held to have divine authority, bu
t they had been established by men ; the Jews, on the other hand, made no such d
istinction between the divine and the human. It was owing, too, to this absence
of the idea of freedom that they did not believe in immortality, for even though
it is perhaps possible to point to certain traces of belief in it, still those
passages in which they occur are always of a very general character, and had not
the slightest influence on the religious and moral points of view from which th
ings were regarded. The immortality of the soul is not as yet an admitted truth,
and there is accordingly no higher end than the service of Jehovah, and so far
as man himself is concerned, his aim is to maintain himself and his family in li
fe as long as possible. Temporal possessions, in fact, are consequent upon servi
ce, not something eternal, not eternal blessedness. The conscious perception of
the unity of the soul with the Absolute, or of the reception of the soul into th
e bosom of the Absolute, has not yet arisen. Man has as yet no inner space, no i
nner extension, no soul of such an extent as to lead it to wish for satisfaction
within itself, but rather it is the temporal which gives it fulness and reality
. According to the Law, each family receives a property which must not be aliena
ted, and in this way the family is to be provided for. The aim of life consequen
tly was mainly the preservation of this bit of land.
This expresses the essential character of the family, together with the land whi
ch belongs to it and from which it derives its subsistence. The possession of a
country is what self-consciousness of this kind receives from its God. It is con
sequently that very confidence before referred to which is the absolutely limite
d constitutive element of the individual family existence. Just because man in t
he absolutely negative condition of self-surrender exists in what is purely posi
tive, and consequently is once more in a condition of immediacy, confidence, as
expressing the surrender of finite interests, turns into the surrender of the su
rrender, and thus comes to represent in turn the realised finite individual, his
happiness and possessions. These possessions and this people are identical, ins
eparable. God's people possess Canaan. God has made a covenant with Abraham, the
one side of which is constituted by this possession, and it is the affirmative
in this sphere of empirical particular interests. Both are inseparable, the spec
ial possession and the confidence, the piety. The possession consequently gets a
n infinitely absolute authorisation, a divine authorisation ; and yet at the sam
e time the title to the possession does not take the form of a juridical right,
of a property ; this latter, as being different from possession, is not applicab
le here. Property has its source in personality, in this very freedom of the sin
gle individual. Man is essentially a holder of property in so far as he is a per
son, but the possession, as expressing the empirical aspect of property, is enti
rely free to take any form, this being left to chance. What I possess is a matte
r of accident, a matter of indifference ; when I am recognised as a holder of pr
operty, I am a free subjectivity and the possession is a matter of indifference.
Here, on the contrary, this definite possession as such is identical with the f
eeling of confidence, and it is consequently this possession to which an absolut
e title attaches. The idea of property does not come in here, and so the idea of
free-will does not appear either. God, the absolute Idea, and then property, an
d possession, represent three different stages. Here the uniting middle term, pr
operty, drops away, and the possession is taken up into the divine will in an im
mediate form. It is this empirical individual possession which is to have value
as such and as thus authorised, and it is taken out of the reach of the free act
of designation on the part of the individual, who cannot sell it but can only p
ledge it for some time, and always only until the year of Jubilee.
The other side, namely, the negative relation, corresponds to the affirmative si
de. The recognition of Power as constituting the negative side must also be defi
ned empirically or externally in reference to property. Particular acts of condu
ct, real ways of acting, must in the same way have their negative side as the ac
knowledgment of the Lord. There must be a service, not simply fear, but an act o
f surrender in particular things. This is the other side of the covenant, which,
on the one hand, has possession as its effect, but, on the other, demands servi
ce also, so that just as this particular country is attached to this particular
nation, the nation itself is bound by the obligation of rendering the service re
quired by the Law. These laws, looked at from one side, are family laws, have re
ference to family conditions, and have a moral content ; but looked at from the
other side, the main point about them is that what is inherently moral in them i
s regarded as something which has been laid down in a purely positive way, and s
o naturally we have joined on to this a large number of external accidental regu
lations which are simply to be observed. The irrationality of the service corres
ponds to the irrationality of the possession, and we thus have an abstract obedi
ence which does not require any inwardness in respect of any definite character
belonging to it, since its justification for existing is an abstract one. Just b
ecause God is absolute power, all actions are of an indeterminate character, and
for this reason they get their determinate character in an entirely external an
d arbitrary way. The keeping of the commandment which demands service, obedience
to God, is the condition upon which the nation continues in the state in which
it is. This is the other aspect of the covenant. It is possible for individuals,
or for the whole nation, to fall away by self-will from the laws, but this is a
falling away merely from definite commandments and from ceremonial service, and
not a falling away from what is original or fundamental, for this latter is som
ething which has the authority of what ought to be. Accordingly the penalty atta
ched to disobedience is not an absolute penalty, but is merely external misfortu
ne, namely, the loss of the possession, or its diminution and curtailment. The p
enalties which are threatened are of an external earthly sort, and have referenc
e to the undisturbed possession of the land. Just as the obedience demanded is n
ot of a spiritual and moral sort, but is merely the definite blind obedience of
men who are not morally free, so also the penalties have an external character.
The laws, the commands, are to be followed and observed merely as if by slaves o
r servants.
If we consider those penalties which are threatened in the form of frightful cur
ses, the thorough mastery which this nation attained to in the matter of cursing
is worthy of notice; and yet these curses have reference only to what is extern
al, and not to what is inward and moral. In the third Book of Moses, in the twen
ty-sixth chapter, we read :
"If ye shall despise My statutes, and will not do all My commandments, and break
My Covenant, I will visit you with terror, consumption, and the burning ague, t
hat shall consume the eyes and cause sorrow of heart. Ye shall sow your seed in
vain, and your enemies shall eat it ; and they that hate you shall reign over yo
u, and ye shall flee when none pursueth you. And if ye will not yet for all this
hearken unto Me, then I will punish you seven times more for your sins. And I w
ill make your heaven as iron, and your earth as brass ; and your toil and labour
shall be lost, so that your land shall not yield her increase, and the trees sh
all not yield their fruits.
" And if ye walk contrary to Me, and will not hearken unto Me, I will bring seve
n times more plagues upon you, according to your sins. I will also send wild bea
sts among you, which shall eat your children, and tear your cattle, and make you
few in number ; and your highways shall be desolate. And if ye will not be refo
rmed by Me by these things, but will walk contrary to Me, then will I punish you
yet seven times for your sins. And I will bring a sword upon you that shall ave
nge the quarrel of My covenant. And though ye are gathered together within your
cities, yet will I send the pestilence among you, and will deliver you into the
hand of the enemy. Then will I break the staff of your bread, so that ten women
shall bake in one oven, and they shall deliver you your bread again by weight ;
and when ye eat, ye shall not be satisfied.
" And if ye will not for all this hearken unto Me, then I will walk contrary unt
o you also in fury, and will chastise you yet seven times, so that ye shall eat
the flesh of your sons and daughters. And I will destroy your high places, and c
ut down your images, and cast your carcases upon your idols, and My soul shall a
bhor you, and I will make your cities waste, and bring your sanctuaries unto des
olation ; and I will not smell the savour of your sweet odours. And I will bring
the land into desolation, so that your enemies which dwell therein shall be ast
onished at it. And I will scatter you among the heathen, and will draw out a swo
rd after you."
We have already seen that amongst the Jews the place of evil is in the subjectiv
e spirit, and that the Lord is not engaged in a conflict with evil, but that He
punishes evil. Evil accordingly appears as an external accident, and this is bow
it is represented in the story of the Fall, according to which it enters in fro
m the outside, in that man is deceived by the serpent.
God punishes evil as something which ought not to be. It is good only that ought
to be, since it is what the Lord has enjoined. There is here as yet no freedom,
and there is not even freedom to find out what the divine and eternal law is. T
he characteristics of the Good, which are undoubtedly the characteristics of rea
son as well, derive their worth from the fact that they are rules laid down by t
he Lord, and the Lord punishes any transgression of these ; this is the wrath of
God. The relation in which the Lord here stands to the Good expresses merely th
e idea of something that ought to be. What He ordains is what ought to be, is la
w. To the Lord belongs the exercise of penal righteousness ; the conflict betwee
n good and evil occurs within the subject as being finite. An element of contrad
iction is thus present in finite consciousness, and consequently there enters in
a feeling of contrition, of sorrow, caused by the fact that the Good is only so
mething which ought to be.
. The third aspect of worship or cultus is reconciliation. It has reference esse
ntially only to the particular faults of separate individuals, and is brought ab
out by means of sacrifice.
Here sacrifice is not intended simply to signify that the offerer is symbolicall
y renouncing his finitude, and preserving his unity with God, but it signifies m
ore definitely the act of acknowledgment of the Lord, a testifying that He is fe
ared ; and it has the still further signification of being an act whereby what o
f the finite remains has been redeemed and ransomed. Man cannot look on Nature a
s something which he can use according to his own arbitrary desires ; he cannot
lay hold of it directly, but he must get whatever he wishes to have through the
mediation of something foreign to himself. Everything is the Lord's, and must be
bought back from Him ; and thus it is that the tithe is ordained, and that the
first-born has to be redeemed.
The expiation for sins accordingly takes place in a peculiar way, namely, by bri
nging in the idea that the punishment which has been merited, the merited manife
station of the nullity of him who has lifted himself up in sinfulness, can be tr
ansferred to what is offered in sacrifice. This is sacrifice. The individual mak
es it plain that his standing before God has no worth. It is thus that the idea
arises that the due manifestation of the sinner's nothingness is transferred to
what is offered, since God acknowledges the sacrifice, and in this way gives the
self a positive standing, or, in other words, a standing in itself.
The externality which thus attaches to the sacrifice arises from the fact that t
he expiation is thought of as being punishment, and not as purification as such
; rather it is looked on as being an injury done to the evil will in this sense
that the will is supposed to suffer damage. Closely connected with this idea is
the fact that it is the blood specially which is offered up by being sprinkled o
n the altar. For if it is life which is to be yielded up as representing the hig
hest of all earthly possessions, it follows that something must be surrendered t
o God which is really living, and the blood, in which the life of the animal is
supposed to be, is given back to the Lord. We saw that amongst the Hindus the wh
ole animal world was held in honour. Here again it is deprived of this honour, b
ut the blood is still regarded as something inviolable and divine ; it is held i
n respect, and must not be eaten by men. Man does not yet possess the feeling of
his concrete freedom which leads him to regard life simply as life, as somethin
g inferior and subordinate to what is higher.
The Transition to the Stage which follows.
Speaking generally, we, as a matter of fact, find that here we are in the region
of free subjectivity, but still the essential characteristic which belongs to f
ree subjectivity has not yet been fully carried right through the totality of th
e religious consciousness in the Religion of Sublimity. God was characterised fo
r Thought as substantial Power, and as the Creator, but in this character He is,
to begin with, merely the Lord of His creatures. Power is thus the cause which
differentiates itself, but it is something which merely puts forth its authority
over, exercises its lordship over, that in which it thus differentiates itself.

A further stage of progress accordingly is reached, when it is seen that this "
Other " is something free free from external restraint, and God becomes the God
of free men, who, even while rendering Him obedience, are actually free in their
relation to Him. This standpoint, if we look at it in an abstract way, contains
within it the following moments : God is a free, absolute Spirit, and manifests
Himself by setting His " Other " over against Himself. What is thus posited by
Him is His image, for the subject creates only itself, and that which it becomes
by self-determination is again nothing else than itself. But in order that it m
ay be really determined, or get a specific nature as Spirit, it must negate this
" Other," and return to itself, for then only when it knows itself in the " Oth
er " is it free. But if God knows Himself in the ; Other," it follows that the "
Other " has an actual independent existence, is for itself, and knows itself to
be free.
This represents the release of the " Other " as being now something free and ind
ependent. Tims freedom is found first of all in the subject, and God is still ch
aracterised as Power, which is for itself, has real existence, and releases the
subject. The differentiation or further characterisation which is thus reached s
eems, in accordance with what has been stated, to consist simply in this, that t
he creatures are no longer merely in a state of service, but rather find their f
reedom in the very act of rendering service. This moment of the freedom of subje
cts or persons for whom God is, and which is wanting in the standpoint of the Re
ligion of Sublimity which we have been considering, we have already seen in a lo
wer stage of thought, in the sphere of the Religion of Nature, in the Syrian rel
igion, namely.
In the higher stage, to which we now pass, what in the lower was represented in
a natural immediate way is transferred to the pure region of Spirit, and is ascr
ibed to its inner mediation. In the religion of sorrow or pain, we saw that God
loses Himself, that He dies, and exists only by means of the negation of Himself
. This act of mediation is the moment which is again to be taken up here. God di
es, and from this death He rises again. That is the negation of Himself which we
, on the one hand, conceive of as the " Other " of Himself, as the world ; and H
e Himself dies, which means that in this death He comes to Himself. In this way,
however, the " Other " is represented as freely existing for itself, and accord
ingly the mediation and rising again belong to the other side, the side of what
has been created.
Considered thus, it seems as if the conception of God Himself underwent no chang
e, but that the change is only in the aspect in which the " Other " is regarded.
 That it is just here where freedom comes in, and that it is this side, namely,
that of the " Other," which is free, is to be explained from the fact that in th
e finite, this otherness of God dies away, and so the Divine appears again in th
e finite in an actual way, or for itself. Thus what is of the world is known as
something which has the Divine in it, and the JBeing-other or otherness which at
first is characterised only as negation, is ngain negated, and is the negation
of negation within itself. This is the kind of mediation which belongs to freedo
m. Freedom is not pure negation, it is not merely an act of flight and surrender
. Freedom of that sort is not yet the true affirmative freedom, but is negative
freedom only. Ii is the negation of what is in a merely natural state in so far
as this itself exists as something negative, which first gives the affirmative d
etermination of freedom. Since the " Other," namely, the world, finite conscious
ness, with its servitude and contingent character, is negated, it follows that i
n this act of mediation the determination of freedom is to be found. The elevati
on or exaltation of Spirit is thus this particular elevation above the state of
mere naturalness, but it is an elevation in which, if it is to become freedom, t
he subjective spirit must also be free in its own nature, for itself. This accor
dingly is at first seen only in the subject or individual. " God is the God of f
ree men."
It is, however, equally true that any further determination or characterisation
takes place quite as much within the nature of God. God is Spirit, but He is Spi
rit in any essential sense only in so far as He is known to be the self-dirempti
on of Himself, the producer of differentiation within Himself, the eternal act o
f creation, and in such a way that this creation of an " Other " is a return to
Himself, a return to the knowledge of Himself. It is thus that God is a God of f
ree men. Since it belongs to the essential character of God Himself that He shou
ld be in His very nature the " Other " of Himself, and that this " Other " is a
determination or quality within His own nature, so that He thereby returns to Hi
mself and the human element is reconciled to God, it follows that we thus get th
e determination which is expressed by saying that Humanity is itself in God. Thu
s man knows that what is human is a moment of the Divine itself, and consequentl
y he stands in a free relation to God. For that to which he stands related as to
his own essential being has the essential characteristics of humanity in itself
, and thus, on the one hand, man is related, as it were, to the negation of his
merely natural life, and, on the other hand, to a God in whom the human element
is itself affirmative and an essential characteristic. Man thus, as occupying su
ch a relation to God, is free. What exists in men as concrete individuals is rep
resented as being something divine and substantial, and man in all that constitu
tes his essential nature, in all that has any value for him, is present in what
is Divine. Out of his passions, says one of the ancients, man has made his gods,
i.e., out of his spiritual powers.
In these powers self-consciousness has its essential attributes for its object,
and knows that in them it is free. It is not, however, particular individual sub
jectivity which has itself as its object in these essential characteristics, and
which is conscious that the well-being of its particular nature is based on the
m. This is the case in the religion of the One where it is only this immediate d
efinite existence, this particular natural existence of the particular subject o
r individual, which is the end, and where it is the individual, and not his univ
ersality, which constitutes what is essential ; and where, further, the servant
has his own selfish aims. Here, on the other hand, self-consciousness has for it
s object its specific nature, its unisality as manifested in the divine powers.
Self-consciousness is' consequently raised above the need of making any absolute
claim to have its immediate individuality recognised, it is raised above the ne
ed of troubling about this, and it finds its essential satisfaction in a substan
tial objective Power. It is only the Moral, what is universal and rational, whic
h is held to be in and for itself essential, and the freedom of self-consciousne
ss consists of the essentiality of its true nature and its rationality. The sum
and substance of the phase upon which the religious spirit has now entered may b
e expressed thus. God is in His own nature the mediation which man expresses. Ma
n recognises himself in God and God and man say of each other That is spirit of
my spirit. Man is Spirit just as God is Spirit. He has also, it is true, finitud
e and the element of separation in him, but in religion he discards his finitude
since his knowledge is the knowledge of himself in God. , We accordingly now pa
ss to the Religion of Humanity and Freedom. The first form of this religion, how
ever, is itself infected with the element of immediacy and naturalness, and thus
we shall see the Human existing in God under what are still natural conditions.
The inward element, the Idea, is indeed potentially what is true, but it has no
t yet been raised above the state of nature, which is the first and immediate fo
rm of its existence. The human element in God expresses His finitude only, and t
hus this religion, so far as its basis is concerned, belongs to the class of fin
ite religions. It is, however, a religion of spirituality, because the mediation
which, as separated and divided up into its moments, constituted the foregoing
transition stages, is now put together so as to form a totality, and constitutes
the foundation of this religion.

II. THE RELIGION OF BEAUTY.

This Religion of Beauty, as has been already indicated, is seen in a definitely
existing form in the religion of the Greeks, which, both in its inner and outer
aspects, presents us with an infinite amount of inexhaustible material, beside w
hich, owing to its sympathetic attractiveness, its grace, and charm, one would f
ain linger. Here, however, we cannot enter into details, but must confine oursel
ves to the essential characteristics of its notion or conception.
"We must thus (A.) indicate the notion or conception of this sphere of religious
thought ; then (B.) consider the outward form of the Divine in it ; and (C.) it
s form of worship as the movement of self-consciousness in relation to its essen
tial powers.

A. THE GENERAL CONCEPTION OB NOTION.

The fundamental characteristic here is subjectivity as the self-determining Powe
r. This subjectivity and wise power we have already met with under the form of t
he One who is as yet undetermined within Himself, and whose end, as it appears i
n the sphere of reality, is accordingly the most limited possible. The next stag
e, now, is that this subjectivity, this wise power or powerful wisdom, particula
rises itself within itself. This stage, just in consequence of this, is, on the
one hand, the lowering of universality, of abstract unity and infinite power, to
a condition of limitation within a circle of particularity, though, on the othe
r hand, again, it at the same time involves the elevation of the limited individ
uality of the real end as against universality. In the region of the particular,
what shows itself here is both of these movements, and this accordingly is the
general characteristic of this stage. "We have next to consider the fact that fr
om one point of view, the determinate notion, the content of the self-determinin
g Power, which is a particular content owing to its being in the element of subj
ectivity, makes itself subjective within itself. There actually are particular e
nds ; they make themselves subjective, to begin with, on their own account, and
so we get a definite sphere composed of a number of particular divine subjects.
Subjectivity, as end, is self-determination, and hence it has particularisation
in it particularisation, in fact, as such, in the form of a world of concretely
existing differences which exist as so many divine forms. Subjectivity in the Re
ligion of Sublimity has already a definite end, namely, the family, the nation.
But this end is only realised in so far as the service of the Lord is not neglec
ted. Through this latter requirement, which implies the abrogation of the subjec
tive spirit so far as the determinate end is concerned, this end becomes a unive
rsal one. Thus if, on the one hand, through the breaking up of the one subjectiv
ity into a multiplicity of ends, subjectivity is lowered to the condition of par
ticularity, on the other hand, the particularity is set over against universalit
y, and these differences in this way here become divine, universal differences.
This particularity of the ends is thus the coming together of the abstract unive
rsality and the individuality of the end their happy mean. This particularity th
us constitutes the content of universal subjectivity, and in so far as it is pos
ited in this element it gives itself a subjective form as a subject. With this w
e enter upon a really ethical stage, for when we have the Divine penetrating the
determinate relations of Spirit in an actual form, determining itself in accord
ance with the substantial unity, we have what is ethical. And at the same time t
he real freedom of subjectivity also comes into existence, for the definite cont
ent is something which the finite self-consciousness has in common with its God.
Its God ceases to be a " Beyond," and has a definite content which on its deter
minate side is elevated to essentiality, and through the abolition and absorptio
n of the immediate individuality or singleness has become an essentially existin
g content.
As regards the constituent element as such, the content that is, the substantial
principle, as has been shown in the context, is just rationality, the freedom o
f Spirit, essential freedom. This freedom is not caprice, and must be clearly di
stinguished from it; it is essential, substantial freedom, the freedom which in
its determinations determines itself. Since freedom, as self-determining, is the
principle or basis of this relation, what we *have here is concrete rationality
which contains essentially moral principles.
That freedom is just this, namely, the desiring or willing of nothing except its
elf, the desiring of nothing else than freedom, and that this is the true moral
element from which moral determinations spring, or, in other words, that the for
mal element of self-determination changes round into the content, is a thought w
hich cannot here be further followed up.
"While morality constitutes the essential basis, still what comes first is moral
ity in its immediacy. It is the rationality above referred to as absolutely univ
ersal or general, and thus still in its impersonal or substantial form. The rati
onality is not yet one subject, and has not yet left the virgin unity in which i
t is morality, and raised itself to the unity of the subject, or, in other words
, has not plunged into itself.
Absolute necessity and the spiritual human embodiment are still separate. Determ
inateness, it is true, is posited in a general way, but this determinateness is,
on the one hand, abstract, and on the other is left free to take on determinate
ness in manifold shapes, and is not yet taken back into that unity. That it shou
ld ever be so taken back would be due to the circumstance that the determinatene
ss has developed into an infinite opposition or antithesis as in the Religion of
Sublimity and has gone on increasing till it became infinite ; for it is only w
hen it has reached this extreme that it becomes at the same time capable of atta
ining to unity in itself. The entire circle of the gods, as these take on a defi
nite form, must itself be taken up into and placed within the sphere of necessit
y as in a pantheon. But it is only capable of this, and is only worthy of attain
ing this, when its manifoldness and diversity become generalised into simple dif
ference. Not till this happens is it adequate to that element, and so immediatel
y identical in itself. The different spirits must be conceived of as Spirit in s
uch a way that Spirit is made to stand out distinctly as representing their esse
ntially universal nature.
. Because the unity of necessity is not yet carried back to the ultimate point o
f infinite subjectivity, the spiritual and essentially moral determinations appe
ar as disconnected or lying outside of one another ; the content is the fullest
possible, but its constituent parts are disconnected.
Ethics in general must be distinguished from morality and ethics as the Greeks u
nderstood them ; and by ethics in general is meant the subjectivity of ethics, t
hat subjectivity which can give account of its principles and has an ethical int
ention, an ethical design and aim.
Morality is here as yet the substantial Being, the true Being of what is moral,
but not as yet the knowledge of it. So far as the objective import is concerned,
this means that just because one subjectivity, the particular reflection into s
elf, is not yet present and just in virtue of this fact the moral content has no
connecting element in it, its basis being constituted by the TldOtj, the essent
ially spiritual powers, the universal powers of the moral life, and chiefly of t
he practical life, life in the State, and, in addition to this, justice, bravery
, the family, oaths, agriculture, science, and so on.
Closely connected with the fact that what is moral has no inner connection as it
appears in these particular forms, is that other want of connection, namely, th
at the natural appears as something opposed to these spiritual powers. The deter
mination of immediacy, which has this disconnected condition as its consequence,
involves the further idea that the natural forces, the sky, the earth, rivers,
the division of time, appear as opposed to the spiritual forces.
. The last form of determinateness is that of the antithesis between essential s
elf-consciousness and the finite self-consciousness, between the essential spiri
t and the finite spirit In this determinateness the form of the natural outward
embodiment of subjectivity comes into view, the natural outward form is imagined
by selfconsciousness as something divine, and this divinity accordingly stands
over against self-consciousness.

B. THE OUTWARD FORM OF THE DIVINE.

(a.) The Conflict of the Spiritual and the Natural.
Since the fundamental determination is spiritual subjectivity, the power of Natu
re cannot be considered as being the essential power in its own right. Yet it is
one of the particular powers, and as the most immediate is the first of those t
hrough whose abrogation the other spiritual powers first originate. We have seen
the nature of the power of the One, and how His real and actual sublimity first
resulted from creation. This one fundamental principle, as the self of the Abso
lute, is wanting here. Thus the starting-point here is within the sphere of what
is immediately natural, which cannot at this stage appear as if created by the
One. The unity in which these particular forms of the powers of Nature repose is
not spiritual, but is, on the contrary, an essentially natural unity, chaos, in
fact.
"But first of all," sings Hesiod, "was Chaos" (Theog. v. ). Chaos is thus itself
something posited, but what the positing agent is we are not told. It is only s
aid that it came into being. For the fundamental principle here is not the self,
but rather the selfless, the pecessity, of which it can only be said that it is
. Chaos is the moving unity of the immediate, but it itself is not yet subject,
particularity ; hence it is not. said of it that it begets, but as it only comes
into being itself, so this necessity comes into being in turn out of it, namely
, the wide extended earth, the shades of Tartaros, the night of Erebos, as also
Eros, adorned beyond all with beauty. We see the totality of particularity origi
nating here ; the earth, the positive element, the universal basis ; Tartaros, E
rebos, Night, the negative element, and Eros, the uniting and active element. Th
e particular elements are now themselves productive ; the earth produces the hea
vens out of itself, brings forth the hills without fructifying love, the desolat
e Pontus, but when united with the sky bears Oceanos and its rulers. She further
brings forth the Cyclopes, the forces of Nature as such, while the earlier chil
dren, natural things, themselves exist as subjects. The Earth and the Sky are th
us the abstract powers which, by fructifying themselves, cause the sphere of nat
ural particular things to come into existence. The youngest child is the inscrut
able Cronos. Night, the second moment, brings forth all that from the natural si
de has the moment of negation within itself. Thirdly, these particular forms uni
te in a reciprocal relation, and beget the positive and negative. All these are
conquered later on by the gods of spiritual subjectivity; Hecate alone remains i
n the form of Fate or Destiny as representing the natural side.
The primary power, that which rules over this circle of natural forces, is the a
bstraction in general out of which they have risen, Uranos; and inasmuch as he i
s power only as positing his abstraction, so that this last is alone what has va
lid worth, he drives away all his children. But the main offspring of Heaven is
inscrutable Time, the youngest child. This latter conquers Uranos through the cu
nning of the Earth. Everything here is in the form of a subjective end, and cunn
ing is the negative of force. But inasmuch as the particular forces make themsel
ves free, and set up on their own account, Uranos calls them by a name suggestiv
e of punishment, calls them Titans, whose wrong-doing is one day to be avenged o
n them.
These particular natural forces are also personified, but this personification i
s, so far as they are concerned, superficial only ; for the content of Helios, f
or example, or of Oceanos. is something natural, and not superficial Power. Thus
, if Helios is represented in human fashion as active, what we have is the empty
form of personification. Helios is not god of the sun, not the sun-god (the Gre
eks never express themselves thus), and Oceanos is not the god of the sea in suc
h a way that the god and that over which he rules are distinguished from each ot
her ; on the contrary, these powers are natural powers.
The first moment in this natural sphere is thus Chaos posited together with its
moments by abstract necessity ; the second is the period of begetting under the
rule of Uranos, in which these abstract moments which have proceeded out of chao
s are the productive element ; the third is the period of the sovereignty of Cro
nos, when the particular natural powers, themselves just born, give birth in tur
n to something else. In this way what is posited is itself the positing factor,
and the transition to Spirit is made. This transition shows itself more definite
ly in Cronos, in that he himself brings about the downfall. He is sovereign pre-
eminently through the abrogation of the immediate divine forms. But he himself i
s immediate, and thereby presents the contradiction of being, while in himself i
mmediate, the abrogation of immediacy. He begets the spiritual gods out of himse
lf; yet in so far as they are at first merely natural, he does away with them, a
nd swallows them up. But his abrogation of the spiritual gods must itself be abr
ogated, and this is accomplished in its turn through cunning working against the
natural force of Cronos. Zeus, the god of spiritual subjectivity, lives. Thus o
ver against Cronos there appears his Other, and there arises, in fact, the confl
ict between the natural powers and the spiritual gods.
However much, then, this breaking up may take place, representing a state of thi
ngs in which the natural powers

C THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION

make their appearance as independent, still the unity of the spiritual and the n
atural and this is what is essential appears more and more clearly, and this uni
ty is, moreover, not the neutralisation of the two, but is,on the contrary, that
form in which the spiritual is not only the predominant element, but is also th
e ruling and determining factor, and in which the natural is ideal and brought i
nto subjection.
The Greeks have expressed the consciousness of this subjugation of the natural p
owers by the spiritual element by telling how Zeus, through a war, founded the s
overeignty of the spiritual gods, conquered the nature-power, and hurled it from
its throne. It is spiritual powers accordingly that rule the world.
In this war of the gods we find the whole history of the Greek gods and their na
ture expressed. With the exception of this war, they have done nothing ; and eve
n when they take up the cause of an individual, or say that of Troy, this is no
longer their history nor the historical development of their nature. But the fac
t that they, as representing the spiritual principle, attained to mastery over t
he natural and conquered it, is what constitutes their essential act, and forms
the essential element in the ideas of the Greeks regarding them.
The natural gods are thus subdued, driven from their throne ; the spiritual prin
ciple is victorious over the religion of nature, and the natural forces are bani
shed to the borders of the world, beyond the world of selfconsciousness, but the
y have also retained their rights. They are, while nature-powers, at the same ti
me posited as ideal, or as in subjection to the spiritual element, so that they
constitute a determination in what is spiritual, or in the spiritual gods themse
lves. This natural moment is still present in these gods, but is in them only as
a kind of reminiscence of the nature element, only as one of their aspects.
To these old gods, however, belong not only naturepowers, but also Dike, the Eum
enides, the Erinyes ; the Oath too and Styx are counted as amongst the ancieut g
ods. They are distinguished from the later ones by this, that although they are
what is spiritual, they are spiritual as a power existing only within itself, or
as a rude undeveloped form of Spirit. The Erinyes are those who judge only inwa
rdly, the oath is this particular certainty in my conscience, its truth lies, ev
en if I take it outwardly, within myself. We may compare the oath with conscienc
e.
Zeus, on the contrary, is the political god, the god of laws, of sovereignty, of
laws definitely recognised, however, and not of the laws of conscience. Conscie
nce has no legal authority in the State. If men appeal to conscience, one man ma
y have one kind of conscience and another another, and thus it is positive law a
lone which has authority here. In order that conscience may be of the right kind
, it is necessary that what it knows as right should be objective, should be in
conformity with objective law, and should not merely dwell within. If conscience
is right, then it is this as something recognised by the State, when the State
has an ethical constitution.
Nemesis is likewise an ancient deity. It is merely the formal element which brin
gs down what is lofty, what exalts itself ; it is the merely levelling principle
, envy, the putting down of what is distinguished or exalted, so that it may be
on a level with other things. In Dike we have merely strict abstract justice. Or
estes is prosecuted by the Eumenides and is acquitted by Athene, by the moral la
w, by the State. Moral law or justice is something different from bare strict ju
stice ; the new gods are the gods of moral law.
But the new gods have themselves in turn a double nature, and unite in themselve
s the natural and the spiritual. In the real view of the Greeks the natural elem
ent or nature-power was undoubtedly not the truly independent or self-sufficing
element. On the contrary, this latter was found only in spiritual subjectivity.
Subjectivity as such which is full of content, the subjectivity which determines
itself in accordance with ends, cannot have in it a merely natural content. Gre
ek imagination did not, accordingly, people Nature with gods after the fashion o
f the Hindus, for whom the form of God seems to spring out of all natural forms.
The Greek principle is rather subjective freedom, and hence the natural is clea
rly no longer worthy to constitute the content of the divine. But, on the other
hand again, this free subjectivity is not yet the absolutely free subjectivity,
not the Idea, which would have truly realised itself as Spirit, i.e., it is not
yet universal infinite subjectivity. We are only at the stage which leads to thi
s. The content of free subjectivity is still particular ; it is spiritual indeed
, but since Spirit has not itself for its object, the particularity is still nat
ural, and is even still presented as the one essential characteristic in the spi
ritual gods.
Thus Jupiter is the firmament, the atmosphere (in Latin we have still the expres
sion sub Jove frigido), what thunders ; but besides being this natural principle
, he is not only the father of gods and men, but also the political god, represe
nting the law and morality of the State, that highest power on earth. He is, mor
eover, in addition to this, a many-sided moral power, the god of hospitality in
connection with the old customs at a time when the relationship of the different
states was not as yet well defined, for hospitality had essentially reference t
o the moral relationship of citizens belonging to different states.
Poseidon is the sea, like Oceanos, Pontus ; he restrains the wildness of the ele
ments, but he is also included amongst the new gods. Phoebus is the god who has
knowledge, and, in accordance with analogy and substantial logical definition, h
e corresponds to the light and is the reflex or reminiscence of the sun-power.
The Lycian Apollo lias a direct connection with light, and the ideas connected w
ith him come from Asia Minor : in the East the natural element, light, gets grea
ter prominence. Phcebus decrees the pestilence in the Greek camp, and this is im
mediately connected with the sun. Pestilence is the effect of the hot summer, of
the heat of the sun. The representations, too, of Phcebus have attributes and s
ymbols that are closely connected with the sun.
The same divinities that were at an earlier stage Titanic and natural appear aft
erwards possessed of a fundamental characteristic which is spiritual and which i
s the ruling one, and in fact there has been a dispute as to whether there was a
ny natural element left at all in Apollo. In Homer Helios is undoubtedly the Sun
, but is at the same time brightness as well, the spiritual element which irradi
ates and illumines everything. But even at a later period, Apollo still has some
thing of his natural element left, for he was represented with a nimbus round hi
s head.
This is what we find to be the case generally, though it may not be particularly
noticeable in the case of the individual gods. Perfect consistency is, however,
not to be found here. An element appears at one time in a stronger and more pro
nounced form, and at another in a weaker form. In the Eumenides of ^Eschylus the
first scenes are laid before the temple of Apollo. There we have the summons to
worship, and first of all the worshippers are invited to adore the oracle-giver
(Tafa), the principle of Nature, then Oe//*?, already a spiritual power, though
, like Dike, belonging to the ancient gods ; next comes Night and then Phcebus t
he oracle has passed over to the new gods. Pindar too speaks of a similar succes
sion in reference to the oracle. He makes Night the first oraclegiver, then come
s Themis, and next Phcebus. We thus have here the transition from natural forms
to the new gods. In the sphere of Poetry, where these doctrines originate, this
is not to be taken historically as something so fixed as to preclude the possibi
lity of there being any deviation from it.
Thus too the noise, the rustling of leaves, the light noise of suspended cymbals
, which represent the first form in which the oracle was given, are mere natural
sounds. It is not till a later period that a priestess appears who in human sou
nds, if not actually in clear and distinct sounds, gives forth the oracle. Simil
arly the Muses are first nymphs, springs, waves, the noise or murmuring of brook
s. In every case the starting-point is some aspect of Nature, natural powers whi
ch are transformed into a god with a spiritual character. Such a transformation
shows itself also in Diana. The Diana of Ephesus is still Asiatic, and is repres
ented with many breasts and covered with images of animals. She has, in fact, as
the basis of her character, natural life, the producing and nourishing power of
Nature. On the other hand, Diana of the Greeks is the huntress who kills animal
s. She does not represent the idea of hunting generally, but the hunting of wild
animals. And indeed by the bravery of spiritual subjectivity these animals, whi
ch in the earlier spheres of the religious spirit were thought of as having an a
bsolute claim to exist, are subdued and killed.
Prometheus, who was also reckoned amongst the Titans, is an important and intere
sting figure. Prometheus is the power of Nature, but he is also the benefactor o
f men, for he taught them the first arts. He brought down fire from heaven for t
hem ; the power to kindle fire already implies a certain amount of civilisation
; it means that man has already got beyond his primitive barbarism. The first be
ginnings of civilisation have thus been preserved in grateful remembrance in the
myths. Prometheus also taught men to offer sacrifice in such a way that they to
o might have something of the offering. The animals, it was supposed, did not be
long to men, but to a spiritual power, i.e., men formerly ate no flesh. He, howe
ver, took the whole offering from Zeus, that is to say, he made two heaps, one o
f bones, over which he threw the skin of the animal, and another of the flesh, a
nd Zeus laid hold of the first.
Sacrifice thus became a feast in which the gods had the entrails and the bones.
This same Prometheus taught men to seize animals and use them as their means of
sustenance ; animals, it was formerly thought, should not be disturbed by men, a
nd were held in high respect by them. Even in Homer mention is made of the sunca
ttle of Helios, which were not to be interfered with by men. Amongst the Hindus
and the Egyptians it was forbidden to slaughter animals. Prometheus taught men t
o eat flesh themselves and to leave to Jupiter only skin and bones.
But Prometheus is a Titan. He is chained to the Caucasus, and a vulture constant
ly gnaws at his liver, which always grows again a pain which never ceases. What
Prometheus taught men had reference only to such acquirements as conduce to the
satisfaction of natural wants. In the mere satisfaction of these wants there is
never any sense of satiety ; on the contrary, the need is always growing and car
e is ever new. This is what is signified by this myth. In a passage in Plato it
is said that Prometheus could not bring Politics to men, because the science of
politics was preserved in the citadel of Zeus. The idea is thus here expressed t
hat this science belonged to Zeus as his own peculiar property.
It is, indeed, gratefully mentioned that Prometheus makes life easier for men by
introducing arts and handicrafts ; but, spite of the fact that these are connec
ted with the powers of the human mind, he still belongs to the Titans, for these
arts are not in any sense laws, nor have they any moral force.
If the gods represent spiritual particularity looked at from the side of Substan
ce, which breaks itself up so as to form them, as a consequence of this, on the
other hand, the limitedness of the particular is advanced to substantial univers
ality. We thereby get the unity of the two ; we have the divine end made human,
and the human end elevated to the divine. This gives us the heroes, the demi-god
s. Specially significant in this respect is the figure of Hercules. He has human
individuality ; he has worked very hard, and by his virtue he has obtained heav
en. The heroes are thus not gods straight off; they have first by labour to put
themselves into the rank of the Divine. For the gods of spiritual individuality,
although now at rest, are yet what they are only through their struggle with th
e Titans. This potentiality or inherent nature of theirs gets an explicit form i
n the heroes. Thus the spiritual individuality of the heroes is higher than that
of the gods themselves ; they are actually what the gods are implicitly ; they
represent the carrying into effect of what is implicit, and if they have also to
struggle and work, this is a working off of the natural element which the gods
still have in themselves. The gods come out of the powers of Nature ; the heroes
, again, come out of the gods.
Since the spiritual gods are thus the result reached through the overcoming of t
he powers of Nature, though they exist in the first instance only through these,
they have their development or becoming in themselves, and manifest themselves
as concrete unity. The powers of Nature are contained in them as their basis, al
though this, their implicit nature, is likewise transfigured. Hence, in the case
of the gods, we have this reminiscence or echo of the natural elements, a featu
re which Hercules does not possess. There are, indeed, several signs that the Gr
eeks themselves were conscious of the presence of this difference. In ^schylus,
Prometheus says that he placed his consolation, his confidence, and satisfaction
in the fact that a son would be born to Zeus who would hurl him from his throne
. This prophecy of the overthrow of the rule of Zeus, to be accomplished through
the manifested unity of the divine and the human which belongs to the heroes, i
s expressed also by Aristophanes ; for Bacchus says to Hercules, " When Zeus die
s and goes, thou wilt succeed him."
(&.) Formless Necessity.
The unity which binds together the plurality of the particular gods is at first
superficial only. Zeus rules them in fatherly, patriarchal fashion, which implie
s that the ruler does in the end what the others on the whole wish, while these
give their assent to all that occurs. But this sovereignty is not serious. The h
igher absolute unity, in the form of absolute Power, stands over them as their p
ure and absolute power. This power is Fate or Destiny, simple necessity.
This unity, as being absolute necessity, has universal deterrninateness within i
t. It is the fulness of all determinations ; but it is not developed in itself,
the fact rather being that the content is divided in a particular way among the
many gods who issue forth from this unity. It is itself empty and without conten
t, despises all fellowship and outward embodiment, and rules in dread fashion ov
er everything as blind, irrational, unintelligible power. It is unintelligible b
ecause it is the concrete alone of which we can form an intelligent conception ;
but this necessity is still abstract, and has not yet developed so as to have t
he conception of an end, has not yet reached definite determinations.
Necessity, accordingly, essentially relates itself to the world. For determinate
ness is a moment in necessity itself, and the concrete world is developed determ
inateness, the kingdom of finitude, of definite existence generally. Necessity h
as at first a merely abstract relation to the concrete world, and this relation
is the external unity of the world, equality or uniformity simply, which is with
out any further determination in itself, and is incomprehensible Nemesis, in sho
rt. It brings down what is high and exalted, and thus establishes equality. But
this equalising is not to be understood as meaning that when what pushes itself
forward or is too high is brought down, what is low is, in its turn, raised up.
On the contrary, that which is low is as it was meant to be; it is the finite wh
ich has no particular claims, and no kind of infinite value in itself to which i
t could appeal. It is thus not loo low. It has in it power, however, to rise abo
ve the common lot and the ordinary limit of finitude, and when it thus acts in o
pposition to uniformity it is again thrust down by Nemesis.
If we now directly consider the relation of the finite self-consciousness to thi
s necessity, we see that under the pressure of its iron power it is to have only
an obedience without inward freedom. But one form of freedom is at least presen
t when we look at the matter from the side of feeling. The Greek who has within
him the feeling of the necessity calms his soul with that. It is so ; there is n
othing to be done against it ; with this I must content myself; just in this fee
ling that I must be content with it, that this even pleases me, we have the free
dom which is implied in the fact that it is mine.
This mental attitude implies that man has this simple necessity before him. In t
hat he occupies the standpoint, " It is so," he has set all that is particular o
n one side, has made a renunciation of and abstracts from all particular ends an
d interests. The vexation, the discontent which men feel consists just in this,
that they stick to a definite end, and will not give this up ; and then if thing
s do not fit in with this end, or, as may happen, go quite contrary to it, they
are dissatisfied. There is then no harmony between what is actually present and
what men wish to have, because they have the " ought to be " within themselves "
That ought to be."
Thus discontent, division, are inherently present ; but those who occupy the sta
ndpoint referred to cling to no aim, no interest, as against actually existing c
ircumstances. Misfortune, discontent, is nothing but the contradiction implied i
n the fact that something is contrary to my will. If the particular interest is
given up, then by this act I have retreated into this pure rest, into this pure
Being, into this " is."
There is here no consolation for man, but then it is not necessary. He requires
consolation when he desires compensation for some loss ; but here he has renounc
ed the inner root of worry and discontent, and has wholly given up what is lost,
because he has the power which enables him to look into necessity. It is, accor
dingly, nothing but a false illusion to imagine that consciousness is annihilate
d when brought into relation to necessity that it relates itself to something wh
ich is absolutely beyond its own world, and finds in it nothing having a relatio
nship with itself. Necessity is not one person, and accordingly consciousness do
es not exist in it on its own account, for itself, or in other words, it is not
an individual or selfish oneness in its immediacy. In relation to that which is
one person it is independent, wishes to be independent, to be for itself, and to
stand on its own basis. The servant or vassal, in performing his service, in hi
s condition of subjection, has fear, and in doing any base. act against his mast
er he has a self-seeking design. But in relation to necessity the subject appear
s as something which does not exist independently, or as determined for itself,
it has, on the contrary, surrendered itself, retains no end for itself, and the
revering of necessity is just this indeterminate attitude of self-consciousness,
this attitude which is wholly devoid of the element of opposition. What we now-
a-days call fate is just the opposite of this attitude of self-consciousness. We
speak of just, unjust, merited fate. We use the word fate by way of explanation
, that is, as suggesting the reason of any condition in which individuals are, o
r of the. fate of individuals. Here there is an external union of cause and effe
ct by which an inherited evil, an ancient curse that rests on his house, breaks
out in the individual. In such cases fate implies that there exists some sort of
reason, but a reason that is at the same time away beyond the present, and fate
is here nothing but a connection of causes and effects, of causes, which, so fa
r as the person is concerned upon whom the fate falls, should be finite causes,
and where there is nevertheless a hidden connection between that which the suffe
rer is in himself and that which befalls him as something unmerited.
The perception of and reverent regard for necessity is, on the other hand, the d
irect opposite of the foregoing. In it that mediation and the superficial reason
ing about cause and effect are done away with. We cannot speak of a belief in ne
cessity as if necessity were something essentially existing, or were a connectio
n of relations, such as that of cause and effect, and as if it thus stood oppose
d to consciousness in some objective outward form. On the contrary, the expressi
on " it is necessary " directly presupposes the abandonment of all argumentative
reasoning, and the shutting up of the spirit within simple abstraction. Noble a
nd beautiful characters are produced by this attitude on the part of the human s
pirit, which has thus given up that which, as the saying goes, fate wrests from
us. It produces a certain grandeur and repose and that free nobility of soul whi
ch is also found amongst the ancients. This freedom is, however, only of the abs
tract kind, which merely stands above the concrete and particular, but does not
actually come to be ill harmony with what is definite, i.e., it is pure thought,
Being, Being-within-self, the relinquishment of the particular. In the higher f
orms of religion, on the contrary, there exists the consolation that the absolut
e end and aim will be reached even in misfortune, so that the negative changes r
ound into the affirmative. " The sufferings of the present are the path to bliss
."
Abstract necessity, as this abstraction of thought and of the return into self,
is the one extreme ; the other extreme is the singularity or individual existenc
e of the particular divine powers.
(c.) Posited necessity or the particular gods, their appearance and outward form
.
The divine particular powers belong to what is implicitly universal, to necessit
y, but they come out from it because it is not yet posited for itself as the Not
ion and determined as freedom. Rationality and the rational content are still in
the form of immediacy, or, in other words, subjectivity is not posited as infin
ite subjectivity, and the individuality hence appears as external. The Notion is
not yet revealed, and its definite existence as it here presents itself does no
t yet contain the content of necessity. But it is at the same time made plain th
at the freedom of the particular is merely the semblance of freedom, and that th
e particular powers are held within the unity and power of necessity.
Necessity is not in itself anything divine, or at least is not the divine in a g
eneral sense. We may indeed say that God is necessity, i.e., it is one of His es
sential qualities, though it may be one which is still imperfect, but we cannot
say that necessity is God. For necessity is not the Idea, but rather abstract No
tion. But Nemesis, and still more these particular powers, are already divine in
as far as the former has a relation to definitely existing reality, while these
powers again are in themselves characterised as distinguished from necessity, a
nd consequently as distinguished from one another, and are contained in necessit
y as the unity of the wholly universal and particular.
Accordingly, because particularity is not yet tempered by the Idea, and necessit
y is not the fully concrete measure of wisdom, unlimited contingency of content
makes its appearance in the sphere of the particular gods. (a.) The contingency
of form or outward embodiment. The twelve principal gods of Olympus are not arra
nged in accordance with the Notion, and they do not constitute any system. One m
oment of the Idea, it is true, plays a leading part, to begin with, but it is no
t carried out in detail.
The divine powers of necessity being separate from it, are external and thus unm
ediated, merely immediate objects, natural existing things, such as sun, sky, ea
rth, sea, mountains, men, kings, and so on. But they are also still held fast by
necessity, and thus the natural element in them is abrogated. If no advance wer
e made beyond the thought that these powers were, in their natural immediate for
m of existence, divine essentially existing beings, this would be a reversion to
the Religion of Nature, in which light, or the sun, or some particular king is
as immediate, God, while the inner element, the universal, has not yet reached t
hat moment of the relation which, nevertheless, necessity essentially and absolu
tely contains in itself, since in the latter the immediate is merely something p
osited and abrogated.
But even if it is abrogated and preserved, the element of Nature is still a dete
rminate characteristic of the particular powers, and because it is incorporated
in self-conscious individuals it has become a fruitful source of contingent dete
rminations. The determination of time, the year, the division of the months, sti
ll hang so much about the concrete gods that some, as Dupuis, for example, have
even tried to make them into calendar gods. The idea, too, of the productive pow
er of Nature, of beginning to be and ceasing to be, is seen to be operative with
in the sphere of the spiritual gods in the many points of agreement still existi
ng between these gods and Nature. But when thus lifted up into the self-consciou
s form of these gods, those natural characteristics appear as contingent, and ar
e changed into characteristics of self-conscious subjectivity, whereby they .los
e their original meaning. The right to search for so-called philosophemes or phi
losophical ideas in the actions of these gods, must be freely granted. For insta
nce, Zeus feasted with the gods for twelve days amongst the Ethiopians ; Juno hu
ng between heaven and earth, and so on. Ideas such as these, as' also the endles
s number of amours ascribed to Zeus, have undoubtedly their primary source in an
abstract conception which had reference to natural relations, natural forces, a
nd to the regular and essential element in these, and thus we have the right to
search after the conceptions aforesaid. These natural relations are, however, at
the same time degraded to the rank of contingent things, since they have not re
tained their original purity, but are changed into forms which are in conformity
with subjective human modes of thought. Free self-consciousness no longer conce
rns itself about such natural characteristics.
Another source of contingent determinations is the Spiritual itself, spiritual i
ndividuality and its historical development. The god is revealed to man in what
befalls himself or in the fate of a state, and this becomes an event which is re
garded as an action of the god, as revealing the goodwill or enmity of the god.
We get an infinitely manifold, but at the same time a contingent content, when a
ny event, such as good fortune or bad fortune, is elevated to being the action o
f a god, and serves to determine more definitely and in individual instances, th
e actions of the god. As the God of the Jews gave a particular land to the peopl
e and led their fathers out of Egypt, so a Greek god is conceived of as having d
one this or the other thing which happens to a people, and which they look on as
divine or as a selfdetermination of the divine. We have further to take into co
nsideration also the locality in which, and the time at which, the consciousness
of a god first began. This element of origin within defined limits, united with
the joyousness of the Greek character, is the source of a number of delightful
stories.
Finally, the free individuality of the gods is the main source of the manifold c
ontingent content ascribed to them. They are, if not infinite, absolute spiritua
lity, at least concrete subjective spirituality. As such, they do not possess an
abstract content, and there is not only one quality in them, on the contrary, t
hey unite in themselves several characteristics. Did they possess only one quali
ty this would be merely an abstract inner element, or simply a certain significa
tion, and they themselves would be merely allegories, i.e., would be concrete in
imagination merely. But in the concrete fulness of their individuality they are
not tied down to the limited lines and modes of operation belonging to one excl
usive quality. On the contrary, they can now go about freely in what are volunta
ry but are at the same time arbitrary and contingent directions.
So far we have considered the embodiment of the divine as it is based in the imp
licit or potential nature belonging to it, i.e., in the individual nature of the
se deities, in their subjective spirituality, in their chance appearances in tim
e and place, or as it occurs in the involuntary transformation of natural determ
inations into the manifestation of free subjectivity. This embodiment has now to
be considered as it appears in its perfected form united with consciousness. Th
is is the manifestation of the divine powers which is for " Other," that is, for
subjective self-consciousness, and is known and embodied in the conception cons
ciousness forms of it.
(/.) The manifestation and conceiving of the divine. The actual form which the g
od attains to in his appearance and manifestation to the finite spirit, has two
sides. The god, that is to say, appears in externality, and owing to this a divi
sion, a separation, takes place which determines itself in such a way that the m
anifestation has two sides, one of which pertains to the god and the other to th
e finite spirit. The side which pertains to the god is his self-revelation, his
showing of himself. Looked at from this side, all that belongs to self-conscious
ness is passive reception. The mode of this manifestation is one which exists pr
e-eminently for Thought ; what is eternal is taught, given, and its existence do
es not depend on the caprice of the individual. Dreams, the oracle, are manifest
ations of this kind. The Greeks embodied this idea in all kinds of forms. For in
stance, a divine image fallen from heaven, or a meteor, or thunder and lightning
, are reckoned as a manifestation of the divine. Or it may be this manifestation
, as the first and as yet inarticulate proclamation of the divine to the conscio
usness, is the rustling of the trees, the stillness of the woods in which Pan is
present.
Since this stage is only the stage of freedom and rationality in their first for
m, the spiritual power either appears in outward guise and this is the basis of
that natural aspect which still attaches to this standpoint or if the powers and
laws that make themselves known to the inward thought of man are spiritual and
moral, they are this to begin with because they are, and it is not known whence
they come.
The manifestation is now the boundary-line of both sides, which separates them a
nd at the same time relates them to each other. At bottom, however, the activity
belongs to both sides, and the true comprehension of this undoubtedly constitut
es a serious difficulty. This difficulty also appears again later on in connecti
on with the idea of the grace of God. Grace enlightens the heart of man, it is t
he Spirit of God in man, so that man can be regarded in relation to its work in
him as passive, and in such a way that it is not his own activity which is manif
ested in his actions. In the Notion, however, this double activity is to be conc
eived of as one. Here in the present stage, this unity of the Notion is not yet
made explicit, and the side of productive activity, which belongs to the subject
as well, appears as independent and separate in this way, namely, that the subj
ect produces the manifestation of the divine consciously as Us own work.
It is self-consciousness which grasps, interprets, gives form to what was, to be
gin with, abstract, whether it is inward or outward, and produces it in the form
in which it is held to be God.
The manifestations in Nature or any particular immediate and external element, a
re not manifestations in the sense that the Essence is only to be regarded as a
thought within our minds as, for instance, when we speak of the forces of Nature
and of its outward effects. Here it does not lie in the natural objects themsel
ves, does not lie in the objectivity in them as such that they exist as manifest
ations of what is inward. As natural objects they exist only for our sense-perce
ption, and for this they are not a manifestation of the universal. Thus it is no
t, for example, in light as such that thought, the universal, announces its pres
ence. In the case of natural existence we must on the contrary first break throu
gh the husk behind which thought, that which is the inward element in things, hi
des itself.
What is necessary is that the natural, the external, should in itself and in its
externality be directly exhibited as abrogated and taken up into something high
er, and as being in its own nature manifestation, so that it has only meaning an
d significance as the outward expression and organ of thought and of the univers
al. Thought must be for sense-perception, that is, what is revealed is on the on
e hand the sensuous mode of truth, while on the other hand that which is perceiv
ed by the senses is at the same time thought, the universal. It is necessity tha
t has to appear in a divine fashion, i.e., in definite existence as necessity in
immediate unity with this concrete existence. This is posited necessity, i.e.,
definitely existing necessity, which exists as simple reflection into itself.
Imagination is now the organ with which self-consciousness gives outward form to
the inwardly abstract or to the external, which is at first something having im
mediate Being, and posits it as concrete. In this process the natural loses its
independence and is reduced to being the outward sign of the indwelling spirit,
in such a way that this latter alone is essentially allowed to appear.
The freedom of Spirit here is not yet the infinite freedom of thought ; the spir
itual essences are not yet in the element of Thought. Did man exercise thought i
n such a way that pure thought constituted the basis, there would be. for him on
ly one God. Just as little, however, does man come upon his essential beings as
present immediate natural forms; on the contrary, he brings them forward into ex
istence for idea or figurative thought, and this bringing of them forward as rep
resenting the middle stage between pure thought and the immediate perception of
Nature, is imagination or fancy.
In this way the gods are formed by human imagination, and they originate in a fi
nite fashion, being produced by the poet, by the muse. They have this finitude e
ssentially in themselves, because so far as the content is concerned they are fi
nite, and in virtue of their individuality have no connection with each other. T
iiey are not discovered by the human mind as they are in their essentially exist
ent rational content, but in so far as they are gods. They are made, invented, b
ut are not fictitious. They certainly come forth out of the human imagination in
contrast to what actually exists, but they do this as essential forms, and this
product of the mind is at the same time recognised as being what is essential.
It is in this sense we are to understand the remark of Herodotus that Homer and
Hesiod made their gods for the Greeks. The same might be said of every priest an
d wise " ancient " who was capable of understanding and explaining the presence
in the natural of the divine and of the essentially existing powers. When the Gr
eeks heard the roaring of the sea at the funeral of Achilles, Nestor came forwar
d and explained it as meaning that Thetis was taking part in the mourning. Thus,
too, in the case of the pestilence, Calchas says that Apollo had brought it aho
ut because he was angry with the Greeks. This interpretation just means that an
embodiment is given to natural phenomena, that they get the form of a divine act
. What takes place within the mind is similarly explained. According to Homer, f
or instance, Achilles would like to draw his sword, but he calms himself and res
trains his anger. This inward prudence is Pallas, who represses anger. In this i
nterpretation originated those innumerable charming tales and the endless number
of Greek myths which we possess.
From whatever side we consider the Greek principle, the sensuous and natural ele
ment is seen to force its way into it. The gods as they issue out of necessity a
re limited, and they have also still traces of the natural element in them, just
because they reveal the fact that they have sprung from the struggle with the f
orces of Nature. The manifestation by which they announce themselves to self-con
sciousness is still external, and the imagination which gives shape and form to
this manifestation does not yet elevate their starting-point into the region of
pure thought. We have now to see how this natural moment is wholly transfigured
into a beautiful form.
(y.) The beautiful form of the divine pmvers. In absolute necessity determinaten
ess is reduced to the unity of immediacy, " it is so." But this means that the d
eterminateness, the content, is rejected, and the stability and freedom of the f
eeling which keeps to this sensuous perception consists only in the fact that it
abides firmly by the empty " is." But definitely existing necessity is for imme
diate perception, and indeed exists for it in its character as natural determina
te existence which in its determinateness takes itself back into its simplicity,
and actually exhibits in itself this act of withdrawal or taking of itself back
. Determinate existence, which is only this process, is in the state of freedom,
or, to put it otherwise, determinateness exists as negativity, as reflected int
o itself, and as sinking itself into simple necessity. This determinateness whic
h relates itself to itself is subjectivity.
For this process of concretely existing necessity the reality is accordingly the
spiritual, the human form. This is a sensuous and natural object and thus exist
s for immediate perception, and it is at the same time simple necessity, simple
reference to self, in virtue of being which it plainly announces the presence of
thought. In every instance of its contact with reality, of its externalisation,
it is directly decomposed, dissolved, and merged in simple identity ; it is an
externalisation, a manifestation, which is really the externalisation of Spirit.

This relationship is not easily grasped, namely, that the fundamental determinat
ion and the one side of the Notion is absolute necessity, while the side of real
ity in virtue of which the Notion is Idea, is the human form. The Notion must, a
bove all, have actual reality. This determination accordingly is more directlv i
nvolved in necessity itself, for it is not abstract Being, but what is actual an
d determinate, determinate in and for itself. Thus the determinateness, just bec
ause it is at the same time natural, external, reality, is further directly take
n back into simple necessity, so that it is this necessity which exhibits itself
in this variegated sensuous element. It is only when it is no longer necessity
but Spirit, which constitutes the Divine, that the latter comes to be regarded a
s existing wholly in the element of thought. Here, however, the moment of extern
al perceptibility still remains, in which, spite of its material character, simp
le necessity nevertheless exhibits itself. This is only the case when we have th
e human form, because it is the form of the spiritual, and only in it can realit
y be taken back for consciousness into the simplicity of necessity.
Life generally is tins infinitude of free existence, and as what is living is it
this subjectivity, which reacts against the immediate determinateness and posit
s it as identical with itself in feeling. But the life of the animal, that is, t
he actual existence and externalisatiou of its infinitude, has plainly a merely
limited content, is sunk in merely particular conditions. The simplicity to whic
h this determinateness is taken back is a limited and merely formal one, and the
content is not adequate to this its form. For thinking man, on the other hand,
the spiritual is expressed in his particular conditions also ; this expression o
f it lets us see that man even in any one limited condition is at the same time
above it, transcends it, is free, and does not go outside of himself, continues
to be at home with himself. We can very easily judge whether a man in the act of
satisfying his wants behaves like an animal or like a man. The human element is
a delicate fragrance which spreads itself over every action. Besides, man has n
ot only this element of mere life, but has likewise an infinite range of higher
ways of expressing himself, of higher deeds and ends, the constituent element of
which is just the Infinite, the Universal. Tims man is that absolute reflection
into self which we have in the conception of necessity. It properly belongs to
physiology to get a knowledge of the human organism, of the human form as the on
ly form truly adequate for Spirit, but as yet it has accomplished little in this
regard. Aristotle long ago expressed the truth that it is only the human organi
sation which is the form of the spiritual, when he pointed it out as being the d
efect in the idea of the transmigration of souls, that according to this theory
the bodily organisation of human beings was of a merely accidental kind.
The individual actual man still essentially has, however, in his immediate exist
ence the element of immediate natural life, which makes its appearance as someth
ing temporary and fleeting, as that which has fallen away from universality. In
accordance with this element of finitude, there emerges a discordance or want of
harmony between that which man implicitly, in his real nature is, and what he a
ctually is. The impress of simple necessity is not stamped on all the features a
nd parts of the individual man. Empirical individuality and the expression of si
mple inwardness are mingled together, and the ideality of the natural, freedom a
nd universality are, owing to the conditions of the merely natural life and beca
use of a number of natural needs which come into play, obscured. Looked at from
this point of view, from which an " Other " appears in man, the appearance of th
e outward form does not correspond with simple necessity, but the fact that on h
is existence in all its shapes and parts the stamp of universality, of simple ne
cessity is impressed which Goethe appropriately called significance, as represen
ting the essential character of classic art renders it necessary that the form s
hould be planned only in Spirit, should be produced only out of it, and brought
into existence only by its mediation, that it should in short be ideal and a wor
k of art. This is something higher than a natural product. We are, no doubt, in
the habit of saying that a natural product is the more excellent, just because i
t is made by God, while a work of art is made only by man, as if, forsooth, natu
ral objects did not also owe their existence to immediate natural finite things,
to seeds, air, water, light ; as if the power of God lived only in Nature and n
ot also in what is human, in the realm of the spiritual. If the real truth is th
at natural products only flourish under the conditions supplied by what for them
are external and contingent circumstances, and under their influence, an influe
nce which comes from without, then in the work of art it is the necessity which
appears as the inward soul and as the notion of externality. That is to say, nec
essity does not here mean that objects are necessary in themselves and have nece
ssity as their predicate/but that necessity is the subject, that which manifests
itself in its predicate, in external existence.
If in this process the manifestation belongs to the subjective side, so that God
appears as something made by man, still that is merely one moment. For this pos
iting of God, the making of His existence dependent on man, is, on the other han
d, mediated by the abrogation of the individual self, and thus it was possible f
or the Greeks to see their god in the Zeus of Phidias. The artist did not give t
hem in an abstract way something which was his own work, but presented to them t
he appropriate and peculiar manifestation of the essential, the outward form of
actually existing necessity.
The form given to the god is thus the ideal form. Previous to the time of the Gr
eeks there was no true ideality, nor was it possible for it to appear at any sub
sequent time. The art of the Christian religion is indeed beautiful, but idealit
y is not its ultimate principle. We cannot get at the element of defect in the G
reek gods by saying that they are anthropopathic, a category of finitude under w
hich we may put the immoral element, as, for example, the stories of the amours
of Zeus, which may have their origin in older myths based on what is as yet the
natural way of looking at things. The main defect is not that there is too much
of the anthropopathic in these gods, but that there is too little. The manifesta
tion and the aspect of the definite existence of the divine do not yet advance s
o far as immediate actuality, in the form of a definite individual, that is, as
this definite man. The truest, most proper form is necessarily this, that the ab
solute Spirit which exists for itself should advance to the point at which it sh
ows itself as individual empirical self-consciousness. This characteristic, cons
isting thus in advance to the sensuous definite individual, is not yet present h
ere. The form made by man in which the divinity appears has, it is true, a mater
ial side, but this has still such pliability that it can be perfectly adapted to
tlie manifested content. It is only when separation in God advances to its ulti
mate limit and appears as man, as a particular empirical self-consciousness, tha
t this sensuousness, this externality, is, so to speak, set free as sensuousuess
, that is to say, the conditioiiateness of externality and its want of suitabili
ty to express the Notion actually come to light in the god. Here matter, the sen
suous, has not yet this form. On the contrary, it keeps true to its content. As
the god, though spiritual, universal power, issues out of Nature, he must have t
he natural as the element of his embodiment, and it must be made plain that it i
s just the natural which is the mode of the expression of the divine. The god th
us appears in stone, and the material is still held to be adequate to the expres
sion of the god as god. It is only when the god appears and reveals himself as a
 definite individual that Spirit, the subjective knowledge of Spirit as Spirit,
is seen to be the true manifestation of God, and it is not till then that sensuo
usness is set free, that is to say, it is no longer blended with the god, but sh
ows itself to be inadequate as his form; the seusuousuess, the immediate individ
uality, is nailed to the cross. In this process of inversion, it is also shown,
however, that this self-alienation, or self-emptying of God in the human form, i
s only one side of the divine life, for this self-emptying, this manifestation,
is taken back again in the One who then for the first time becomes Spirit for th
ought and for the Church. This single, existing, actual man is done away with an
d taken up into something higher, and appears as a moment, as one of the persons
of God in God. Thus only is man as a definite individual man truly in God, and
thus the manifestation of the divine is absolute, and its element is Spirit itse
lf. The Jewish idea that God essentially exists for thought alone, and the sensu
ousness of the Greek form of beauty, are equally contained in this form of the d
ivine, and as being taken up into something higher, are freed from the limitatio
n attaching to them.
At this stage, in which the divine still requires the sensuous for its essential
representation, it appears as a multiplicity of gods. In this multiplicity, it
is true, necessity presents itself as simple reflection into self, but this simp
licity is only form, for the matter in which it exhibits itself is still immedia
cy, the element of Nature, not the absolute matter, namely, Spirit. It is thus n
ot Spirit as Spirit that is here represented ; the truth rather being that the s
piritual existence goes ahead of the consciousness of the content, for this latt
er is not yet itself Spirit.

C. WORSHIP OR CULTUS.
This is here a very big subject. Worship essentially means that the empirical co
nsciousness elevates itself, and that man gives himself the consciousness and fe
eling of the indwelling of the divine within him, and of his unity with the divi
ne. If the work of art is the selfrevelation of God and the revelation of the pr
oductivity of man as the positing of this revelation by the abrogation of his pa
rticular knowledge and will, on the other hand, the work of art equally involves
the fact that God and man are no longer beings alien to one another, but have b
een taken up into a higher unity. The positing or bringing out of what is implic
it in the work of art is here accordingly worship, and this latter is hence the
relationship whereby the external objectivity of God is, relatively to subjectiv
e knowledge, abrogated, and the identity of the two set forth. In this way the e
xternal divine existence, as something divorced from existence within the subjec
tive spirit, is abrogated, and thus God is, as it were, called to mind within th
e sphere of subjectivity. The general character of this worship consists in this
, that the subject has an essentially affirmative relationship to. his od.
The moments of worship are as follows : (a.) Inner feeling or subjective attitud
e. The gods are duly recognised and revered ; they are the substantial powers, t
he essential, real content of the natural and spiritual universe, the Universal.
These universal powers, as exempt from contingency, are recognised by man just
because he is thinking consciousness. Thus the world no longer exists for him in
an external and contingent fashion, but in the true mode. We thus hold in respe
ct duty, justice, knowledge, political life, life in the State, family relations
hips. They represent what is true, the inner bond which holds the world together
, the substantial element in which the rest exists, the valid element, what alon
e holds its ground against the contingency and independence which act in opposit
ion to it.
This content is the objective in the true sense, i.e., what is absolutely and es
sentially valid and true, not in the external objective sense, but within subjec
tivity also. The substance of these powers is the moral element peculiar to men,
 their morality, their actual and valid power, their own substantiality and esse
ntiality. The Greek people are hence the most human people ; with them everythin
g human is affirmatively justified and developed, and the element of measure is
present in it.
This religion is essentially a religion of humanity, that is, the concrete man,
as regards what he actually is, as regards his needs, inclinations, passions, an
d habits, as regards his moral and political relations, and in reference to all
that has value in these and is essential, is in his gods in presence of his own
nature. Or, to put it otherwise, his god has within him the very content compose
d of the noble and the true, which is at the same time that of concrete man. Thi
s humanity of the gods is what was defective in the Greek view, but it is at the
same time its attractive element. In this religion there is nothing incomprehen
sible, nothing which cannot be understood ; there is no kind of content in the g
od which
is not known to man, or which he does not find and know in himself. The confiden
ce of a man in the gods is at the same time his confidence in himself.
Pallas, who restrained the outbreak of wrath in the case of Achilles, is his own
prudence. Athene is the town of Athens, and is also the spirit of this particul
ar Athenian people ; not an external spirit or protecting spirit, but the spirit
who is living, present, actually alive in the people, a spirit immanent in the
individual, and who in her essential nature is represented as Pallas.
The Erinyes are not the Furies represented in an outward way. On the contrary, t
hey are meant to suggest that it is man's own act and his consciousness which to
rment and torture him, in so far as he knows this act to be something evil in hi
mself. The Erinys is not only an external Fury who pursues the matricide Orestes
, but suggests rather that it is the spirit of matricide which brandishes its to
rch over him. The Erinyes are the righteous ones, and just because of that they
are the well-disposed, the Eumenides. This is not a euphemism, for they really a
re those who desire justice, and whoever outrages it has the Eumenides within hi
mself. They represent what we call conscience.
In the CEdipus at Colonos, (Edipus says to his son, " The Eumenides of the fathe
r will pursue thee." Eros, love, is in the same way not merely the objective, th
e god, but is also as power the subjective feeling of man. Anacreon, for instanc
e, describes a combat with Eros. " I also," he says, " will now love ; long ago
Eros bade me love, but I would not follow his command. Then Eros attacked me. Ar
med with breastplate and lance, I withstood him. Eros missed, but after that he
forced his way into my heart." " But," thus he concludes, " what is the use of b
ow and arrow ? the combat is within me." In thus recognising the power of the go
d, and in this reverential attitude, the subject is absolutely within the sphere
of his own nature. The gods are his own emotions. The knowledge the subject has
of the gods is not a knowledge of them merely as abstractions away beyond the s
phere of reality. On the contrary, it is a knowledge which includes the knowledg
e of the concrete subjectivity of man himself as something essential, for the go
ds are likewise within him. Here we have not that negative relation, where the r
elation of the subject to what is above it, even if it is the highest form of re
lation, is merely the sacrifice, the negation of its consciousness. The powers h
ere are friendly and gracious to men, they dwell in man's own breast ; man gives
them reality, and knows their reality to be at the same time his own. The breat
h of freedom pervades this whole world, and constitutes the fundamental principl
e for this attitude of mind.
But the consciousness of the infinite subjectivity of man is still wanting, the
consciousness that moral relations and absolute right attach to man as such, tha
t man, just because he is self-consciousness,possesses in this formal infinitude
the rights as well as the duties of the human race. Freedom, morality, is the s
ubstantial element in man, and to know this as the substantial element, and to p
osit in it his own substantiality, is what constitutes the value and the dignity
of man. But it is the formal subjectivity, self-consciousness as such, the inhe
rently infinite individuality, and not the merely natural and immediate individu
ality, which contains the possibility of that value, i.e., the real possibility,
and the one on account of which the individual himself has infinite rights. Now
, because in the natural morality of the untutored man the infinitude of formal
subjectivity is not recognised, man as such does not attain to that absolute val
ue according to which he has worth in and for himself, whatever be his inward qu
alifications, whether born in this or the other place, whether rich or poor, whe
ther belonging to this people or to that. Freedom and morality have still a spec
ial, particular form, and the essential right of man is still affected by what i
s contingent, so that it is essentially at this stage that slavery is found to e
xist. It is still a matter of accident whether a man is a citizen of this partic
ular State or not, whether he is free or is not free. And because, further, the
infinite opposition is not yet present, and because the absolute reflection of s
elf-consciousness into itself, that climax of subjectivity, is still wanting, mo
rality as individual conviction and rational insight is not yet developed.
Nevertheless, in morality, individuality is in a general sense taken up into uni
versal substantiality, and thus there here enters in if at first only as a faint
semblance, and not yet as the absolute demand of Spirit the idea of the eternal
nature of the subjective, individual spirit, the idea of immortality. The deman
d for the immortality of the soul could not make its appearance at any of the ea
rlier stages already considered, either in the religion of Nature or in the reli
gion of the One. In the former, the immediate unity of the spiritual and the nat
ural is the fundamental idea, and Spirit is not yet self-conscious, or for itsel
f. In the latter, Spirit is, it is true, self-conscious and exists for itself, b
ut it is still unrealised ; its freedom is still abstract, and its Being is stil
l a natural form of existence, the possession of a particular land and its welfa
re. But that is not Being as the determinate existence of Spirit within itself ;
it does not yet imply full satisfaction in the spiritual. The duration is only
the duration of the race, of the family, of natural universality, in short. But
here self-consciousness is complete and realised in itself; it is spiritual. Sub
jectivity is taken up into universal essentiality and is thus known as essential
ly Idea ; and here we meet with the conception of immortality. But this consciou
sness becomes more definite when morality appears on the scene ; self-consciousn
ess goes down into itself, and hence it will recognise that only as good, true,
and right which it finds to be in harmony with itself and its thought. With Socr
ates arid Plato accordingly the question of the immortality of the soul is the o
ne expressly raised, while before their day this idea was considered more as a m
erely general one, and as one which had not absolute value in and for itself.
As infinite subjectivity, the absolute point of the unity of the Notion, is stil
l wanting to self-consciousness, it is still wanting also to its essentialities,
to what represents for it real existence. This unity is found within that which
we have come to know as its necessity ; but this lies outside the circle of the
particular, substantial, essential beings. The particular essential beings, lik
e man as such, have no absolute justification, for any justification they have t
hey possess only as a moment of necessity, and as rooted in this absolute unity
which is reflected into itself. They are many, though of divine nature, and this
their scattered and manifold character is at the same time a limitation, so tha
t divine nature is not attributed to them in any really serious sense. Above the
many substantial essential beings there floats the ultimate unity of absolute f
orm necessity, and self-consciousness, which is in relation to the gods, is at t
he same time freed by this necessity from them, so that their divinity is at one
time taken in a serious sense and at another in an opposite sense.
This religion has, speaking generally, the character of absolute joyousness ; se
lf-consciousness is free in relation to its essential beings, because they are i
ts own, though at the same time it is not chained to them, since absolute necess
ity floats above them too, and they go back into it, just as consciousness with
its particular ends and needs also sinks itself in it.
The feeling accordingly of subjective self-consciousness in relation to necessit
y is this sense of repose which abides in the region of calm, in this freedom, w
hich is, however, still an abstract freedom. It is so far an escape, a flight, b
ut it is at the same time freedom, inasmuch as man is not overcome, weighed down
by outward misfortune. Whoever has this consciousness of independence may be in
deed outwardly worsted, but he is not conquered or overcome.
Necessity has its own sphere ; it has reference only to the particular element o
f individuality in so far as a collision of spiritual powers is possible, and th
e individuals are affected by necessity and are brought into subjection to it. T
hose individuals are in a special way in subjection to necessity and have a trag
ic interest attaching to them, who raise themselves above the ordinary moral con
ditions, and who seek to accomplish something special for themselves. This is th
e case with the heroes who through their own acts of will are separated from oth
ers ; they have interests which go beyond the ordinary peaceful circumstances in
which the government and action of God proceed. They are those who will and act
in a special way of their own ; they stand above the Chorus, above the calm, st
eady, harmonious, ordinary moral course of life. This last is exempt from the in
fluence of destiny, restricts itself to the ordinary sphere of life, and rouses
none of the moral powers against it. The Chorus, the people, viewed in one aspec
t, has its particular side too ; it is subject to the common lot of mortals, nam
ely, to die, to suffer misfortune and such-like, but an issue of this kind is th
e common lot of mortal men, and represents the course of justice relatively to t
he finite. That the individual should suffer some accidental misfortune, that he
should die, is something which belongs to the order of things.
In Homer, Achilles weeps over his early death, and his horse weeps over it too.
That would be regarded in our day as a silly thing for a poet to mention. But Ho
mer could attribute to his hero this foreknowledge, for it cannot alter anything
in his life and actions ; it simply is so for him, and otherwise he is what he
is. The thought can indeed make him sad, but only momentarily ; things are so, b
ut this disturbs him no further ; he may indeed be sad, but he cannot be vexed o
r annoyed. Vexation is the sentiment of the modern world ; the feeling of vexati
on or annoyance presupposes an end, a demand on the part of modern freewill, whi
ch considers itself warranted and justified in indulging this feeling if any suc
h end should not be realised. Thus the modern man easily gets into the mood in w
hich he loses heart with regard to everything else, and does not even seek to re
ach other things he might quite well have made his aim if otherwise unsuccessful
All else that belongs to his nature and destiny he abandons, and in order to re
venge himself destroys his own courage, his power of action, all those ends of d
estiny to which he might otherwise have quite well attained. This is vexation ;
it could not possibly have formed part of the character of the Greeks or of the
ancients, the truth being that their grief regarding what is necessary is of a p
urely simple kind. The Greeks did not set before themselves any end as absolute,
as essential, any end the attainment of which ought to be warranted ; their gri
ef is therefore a grief of resignation. It is simple sorrow, simple grief, which
has for this reason the element of serenity in it. No absolute end is lost for
the individual ; here, too, he continues to be at home with himself, he can reno
unce that which is not realised. It is so ; and this means that he has withdrawn
himself into abstraction, and has not set his own Being in opposition to what i
s. The liberation here is the identity of the subjective will with that which is
; the subject is free, but only in an abstract fashion.
The heroes, as was remarked, bring about an alteration in the course of simple n
ecessity, in this way, namely, that an element of division comes in, and the hig
her, really interesting element of division, so far as Spirit is concerned, is t
hat it is the moral powers themselves which appear as divided and as coming into
collision.
The removal of this state of collision consists in this, that the moral powers w
hich are in collision, in virtue of their one-sidedness, divest themselves of th
e one-sidedness attaching to the assertion of independent validity, and this dis
carding of the one-sidedness reveals itself outwardly in the fact that the indiv
iduals who have aimed at the realisation in themselves of a single separate mora
l power, perish.
Fate is what is devoid of thought, of the Notion, something in which justice and
injustice disappear in abstraction ; in tragedy, on the other hand, destiny mov
es within a certain sphere of moral justice. We find this truth expressed in the
noblest form in the Tragedies of Sophocles. Fate and necessity are both referre
d to there. The destiny of individuals is represented as something incomprehensi
ble, but necessity is not a blind justice ; on the contrary, it is recognised as
the true justice. And just because of this these Tragedies are the immortal spi
ritual productions of moral understanding and comprehension, the eternal pattern
s or models of the moral Notion. Blind destiny is something unsatisfying. In the
se Tragedies justice is grasped by thought. The collision between the two highes
t moral powers is set forth in a plastic fashion in that supreme and absolute ex
ample of tragedy, Antigone. In this case, family love, what is holy, what belong
s to the inner life and to inner feeling, and which because of this is also call
ed the law of the nether gods, comes into collision with the law of the State. C
reon is not a tyrant, but really a moral power ; Creon is not in the wrong ; he
maintains that the law of the State, the authority of government, is to be held
in respect, and that punishment follows the infraction of the law. Each of these
two sides realises only one of the moral powers, and has only one of these as i
ts content ; this is the element of one-sidedness here, and the meaning of etern
al justice is shown in this, that both end in injustice just because they are on
e-sided, though at the same time both obtain justice too. Both are recognised as
having a value of their own in the untroubled course of morality. Here they bot
h have their own validity, but a validity which is equalised. It is only the one
-sidedness in their claims which justice comes forward to oppose.
We have another example of collision in the case of (Edipus, for instance. He ha
s slain his father, is apparently guilty, but guilty because his moral power is
onesided ; that is to say, he falls into the commission of his horrible deed unc
onsciously. He, however, is the man who has solved the riddle of the Sphinx ; he
is the man distinguished for knowledge, and so a kind of balance is introduced
in the shape of a Nemesis. He, who is so gifted in knowledge, is in the power of
what is unconscious, so that he falls into a guilt which is deep in proportion
to the height on which he stood. Here, therefore, we have the opposition of the
two powers, that of consciousness and unconsciousness.
To mention still another case of collision. Hippolytus becomes unfortunate becau
se he pays honour to Diana only, and despises Love, which accordingly revenges i
tself on him. It is an absurdity to ascribe to Hippolytus another amour, as is d
one in the French version of the story by Racine, for in that case what he suffe
rs is no punishment of Love with any pathos in it, but is merely a certain misfo
rtune arising from the fact that he is enamoured of one maiden, and gives no hee
d to another woman ; for though the latter is indeed his father's wife, still th
e moral hindrance implied in this is obscured by the love he has for Aricia. The
real cause of his destruction is the injury he has done by his neglect of a uni
versal Power as such ; it is nothing moral, but is, on the contrary, something p
articular and accidental.
The conclusion of this Tragedy is reconciliation, rational necessity, the necess
ity which here begins to mediate itself; it is justice which is in this way sati
sfied with the maxim, " There is nothing which is not Zeus," that is, eternal ju
stice. Here there is an active necessity, but it is one which is completely mora
l ; the misfortune endured is perfectly clear ; here there is nothing blind and
unconscious. To such clearness of insight and of artistic presentation did Greec
e attain at her highest stage of culture. Yet there remains here something unsol
ved in that the higher element does not appear as the infinitely spiritual power
; we still have here an unsatisfied sorrow arising from the fact that an indivi
dual perishes.
The higher form of reconciliation would be that the attitude of one-sidedness sh
ould be done away with in the Subject, that the subject should have the consciou
sness of his wrong-doing, and that he should in his own heart put away his wrong
-doing. To recognise this his guilt, his one-sidedness, and to discard them, is
not, however, natural to this sphere of thought. This higher point of view makes
the outward punishment, namely, natural death, superfluous. Beginnings, faint e
choes of this reconciliation, do undoubtedly make their appearance here, but nev
ertheless this inward change or conversion appears more as outward purification.
A son of Minos was slain in Athens, and its purification was thus rendered nece
ssary. This deed was declared to be undone. It is Spirit which seeks to render w
hat has been done undone.
In the Eumenides Orestes is acquitted by the Areopagus ; here we have, on the on
e hand, the greatest possible crime against filial piety, while on the other we
see that he did justice to his father, for he was not only head of the family, b
ut also of the State. In one action he both committed a crime and at the same ti
me acted in accordance with perfect and essential necessity. Acquittal just mean
s that something is made undone, made as though it had not happened.
In the case of (Edipus Coloneus reconciliation is hinted at, and more particular
ly the Christian idea of reconciliation. He is taken into favour by the gods, th
e gods call him to themselves. In the present day we demand more, since with us
the idea of reconciliation is of a higher kind, and because we are conscious tha
t this conversion can occur in the inner life, whereby that which is done can be
rendered undone.
The man who is " converted " gives up his onesidedness ; he has extirpated it hi
mself in his will, which was the permanent seat of the deed, the place of its ab
ode ; that is, he destroys the act in its root. It is congenial to our way of fe
eling that tragedies should have conclusions which have in them the element of r
econciliation.
(&.) Worship as Service. If the real point accordingly is that subjectivity shou
ld consciously pronounce its identity with the divine which confronts it, then b
oth parts must give up something of their determinateness. God comes down from h
is throne of the universe and delivers Himself up, and man must, in the act of r
eceiving the gift, accomplish the negation of subjective self-consciousness that
is, he must acknowledge God or take the gift with an acknowledgment of the esse
ntiality which is in it. The service of God is consequently a reciprocal giving
and receiving. Each side gives up something of the particularity which separates
it from the other.
I. The outward relation of the two sides to one another in its most extreme form
is that God has in Himself a natural element, and exists independently relative
ly to self-consciousness in an immediate definite fashion ; or, to put it otherw
ise, God has His existence in an external, natural manifestation. In this relati
on the service of God is on the one side an acknowledgment that natural things a
re an Essence in themselves. On the other side, the deity offers itself up, sacr
ifices itself in the power of Nature in which it appears, and allows itself to b
e taken possession of by self-consciousness.
If then the divine powers give themselves up as gifts of Nature and graciously o
ffer themselves for use, the service in which man comes to have a consciousness
of unity with his powers has the following signification :
As for those fruits, those springs, which exist in Nature, they allow themselves
to be used and drawn upon without hindrance, or to be laid hold of and used as
nourishment. These gifts fall freely into the lap of man ; man eats the gifts, d
rinks the wine, and gets from them invigoration and stimulus, and this invigorat
ion in which they are an element, is their work, the effect they produce. In thi
s relationship it is not a case of mere reciprocal action, the melancholy, conti
nuous, self-producing uniformity of what is mechanical. On the contrary, these g
ifts are rendered honourable because man eats them and drinks of them ; for to w
hat higher honour can natural things attain than to appear as the inspiring forc
e of spiritual action ? Wine inspires, but it is man who first exalts it to the
rank of an inspiring and power-giving agent. So far the relationship of bare nee
d disappears. In connection with the sense of need man gives thanks to the gods
for the receiving of the gifts, and these needs presuppose a separation which it
is not in the power of man to do away with. Need, strictly so called, first mak
es its appearance owing to property and the retention of something by one will,
but man does not stand in such a relation of need to the gifts of Nature ; on th
e contrary, they have to thank him that they come to be something, that anything
is made of them ; without him they would rot and dry up and pass away in useles
sness.
The sacrifice which is connected with the enjoyment of these natural gifts has n
ot here the sense of the offering up of what is inward or of the concrete fulnes
s of Spirit; on the contrary, it is just this very fulness which is affirmed and
enjoyed. Sacrifice in this case can only signify that acknowledgment of the uni
versal Power which expresses the theoretical giving up of a part of what is to b
e enjoyed, i.e., the acknowledgment here is a useless and aimless kind of giving
up, a renunciation which is not practical and has not reference to the self ; a
s, for example, the pouring out of a bowl of wine. The sacrifice is itself at th
e same time the enjoyment of the thing ; the wine is drunk, the meat is eaten, a
nd it is the power of Nature itself whose individual existence and external form
are offered up and destroyed. Eating means sacrifice, and sacrifice just means
eating.
Thus this higher sense of sacrifice and the enjoyment found in it attach themsel
ves to all the actions of life ; every occupation, every enjoyment of daily life
is a sacrifice. Worship is not renunciation, not the offering up of a possessio
n, of something belonging to oneself, but is rather idealised, theoretical and a
rtistic enjoyment. Freedom and spirituality are spread over the entire daily and
immediate life of man, and worship is in short a continuous poetry of life.
The worship of these gods is accordingly not to be called service in the proper
sense of the word, as something having reference to a foreign independent will f
rom whose chance decision is to be obtained what is desired. On the contrary, th
e act of adoration itself already implies a previous granting of something, or,
in other words, it is itself enjoyment. It is, therefore, not a question of call
ing a power back to oneself from its place beyond what is here and now, nor of r
enouncing what, on the subjective side of self-consciousness, constitutes the se
paration, in order that man may be receptive of the power. It is thus not a ques
tion of deprivation or renunciation, or of the laying aside of something subject
ive belonging to the individual, nor does the idea of anguish, of self-tormentin
g, of self-torture come in here. The worship of Bacchus or of Ceres is the posse
ssion, the enjoyment of bread and wine, the consumption of these, and is therefo
re itself the immediate granting of these things. The Muse to which Homer appeal
s is in the same way his genius, and so on.
The universal powers, however, in this case certainly retire farther into the ba
ckground again, so far as the individual is concerned. The spring allows itself
to be drawn upon unhindered, and the sea allows itself to be freely frequented,
but it also rises in storm ; it and the stars are not only not serviceable to ma
n, but inspire fear, and are a source of disaster. Nor is the Muse always gracio
us to the poet either ; she goes away and serves him badly, though, properly spe
aking, the poet really appeals to her only when he is composing his poem, and th
e appeal to and praise of the Muse is itself Poetry. Even Athene Spirit, God is
unfaithful to herself. The Tyrians bound their Hercules with chains, so that he
should not desert their city, which represented his reality and actual real exis
tence ; and yet Tyre fell. But such estrangement on the part of men from their e
ssentiality or embodiment of essential Being does not lead to absolute division,
not to that inward laceration of heart which would compel men to draw down thei
r deity, so to speak, by the force of spirit to themselves in worship, and with
which the lapse into magic would be connected. The individual cannot go on livin
g in endless opposition to these particular powers, because as particular ends t
hey lose themselves in necessity, and are themselves surrendered in this necessi
ty.
Service hence consists in the fact that the universal powers are given a place o
f honour on their own account and are duly acknowledged. Thought grasps the esse
ntial, substantial element of its concrete life, and hence is neither sunk in a
state of torpor in the empirical details of life and dissipated amongst these, n
or does it turn from these merely to the abstract One, to the infinite " Beyond.
" On the contrary, just because Spirit sets before itself the true element, the
Idea of its manifold existence, it is, in the very act of acknowledging and doin
g reverence to this universal, in the state of enjoyment, and remains in the pre
sence of its own nature. This presence of Spirit in its essentialities is on the
one hand its truly valuable, thinking, theoretic relationship, and on the other
hand is that happiness, joyousness,and freedom which is securely conscious of i
tself in this state, and is here in presence of its self, or together with its o
wn self.
. Service as a certain relationship to the gods on their spiritual side does not
mean either that man appropriates these powers for the first time, or that man
for the first time becomes conscious of his identity with them. For this identit
y is already present, and man finds these powers already realised in his conscio
usness. The spiritual in a definite form, as right, morality, law, or in the for
m of universal essential beings, such as Love, Aphrodite, attains actual existen
ce in individuals, moral individuals, who know and love. They are the will, the
inclination, the passion of these individuals themselves, their own .willing, ac
tive, life. Consequently what is left for worship to do is merely to acknowledge
these powers, to revere them, and together with this, to raise the identity int
o the form of consciousness, and to make it into theoretic objectiwty.
If we compare this objectivity with our idea, we at the same time lift the unive
rsal out of our immediate consciousness and think it. We can also go on to raise
these universal powers into the sphere of the ideal and give them spiritual for
m. But when it comes to offering prayer or bringing sacrifices to such creations
, we reach the point at which we abandon the material view referred to. We canno
t go so far as to give those images, which yet are no mere fancies but real powe
rs, individual separate independence and ascribe personality to them as over aga
inst ourselves. Our consciousness of infinite subjectivity as something universa
l absorbs those particular powers and reduces them to the level of beautiful pic
tures of fancy, whose substance and significance we are indeed able to appreciat
e, but which cannot be held by us to have true independence. In Greek life, howe
ver, poetry, the thinking imagination, is itself the essential Service of God. V
iewed from one side, these powers split up ad infinitum, and, although they cons
titute an exclusive circle, just because they are particular powers they themsel
ves come almost to have the infinitude of the qualities belonging to them when t
hey are thought of as actually existing. What a number of particular relations a
re comprised in Pallas, for instance ! Viewed from the other side, again, we see
 that it is the human, sensuous-spiritual form in which the ideal is to be repre
sented, and as a consequence of all this, this representation is inexhaustible,
and must ever continue to go on and renew itself, for the religious sense is its
elf this continuous transition from empirical existence to the ideal. There is h
ere no fixed, spiritually definite doctrinal system, no doctrine ; we have not t
ruth as such in the form of thought ; on the contrary, we see the divine in this
immanent connection with reality, and hence always raising itself up anew and p
roducing itself in and out of this reality. If this active production is brought
to perfection by ait, imagination has reached its ultimate fixed form, so that
the ideal is set up, and then we find that there is a close connection between t
his and the decay of religious life.
So long, however, as the productive force which characterises this standpoint is
fresh and active, the highest form of the assimilation of the divine consists i
n this, that the subject makes the god present through himself, and makes the go
d manifest in his own self. Because in this connection the recognised subjectivi
ty of the god at the same time remains on one side as a " Beyond," this represen
tation of the divine is at the same time the acknowledgment and the adoration of
his own substantial essentiality. Thus accordingly the divine is revered and ac
knowledged when it is represented in festivals, games, plays, songs in art, in s
hort. For any one is honoured in so far as a lofty idea is formed of him, and in
so far too as this idea is made visible through action and is allowed to appear
outwardly in his conduct.
Now since the nation in the productions of art, in the honour paid in songs and
festivals, allows the idea of the divine to appear in itself, it has its worship
in itself, i.e., it directly shows what is really its own excellence ; it shows
the best it has, that which it has been capable of making itself. Men adorn the
mselves ; pageantry, dress, adornment, dance, song, battle all are connected wit
h the desire to show honour to the gods. Man shows his spiritual and bodily abil
ity and skill, his riches; he exhibits himself in all the glory of God, and thus
enjoys the manifestation of God in the individual himself. This characterises f
estivals even yet. This general description may suffice to show that man allows
the idea of the gods to appear to him through himself, and that he represents hi
mself in the most splendid possible way, and thus shows his reverential recognit
ion of the gods. High honour was ascribed to the victors in battle ; they were t
he most honoured of the nation ; on festive occasions they sat beside the Archon
s, and it even happened that in their lifetime they were revered as gods, inasmu
ch as they had given outward manifestation to the divine in themselves through t
he skill which they had shown. In this way individuals make the divine manifest
in themselves. In practice individuals honour the gods, are moral that which is
the will of the gods is what is moral and thus they bring the divine into the sp
here of actual reality. The people of Athens, for example, who held a procession
at the festival of Pallas, represented the presence of Athene, the spirit of th
e people, and this people is the living spirit which represents and exhibits in
itself all the skill of Athene and all that is done by her.
. But man may be ever so certain of his immediate identity with the essential po
wers, and may thoroughly appropriate divinity to himself and rejoice in itsprese
nce in him, and in the presence of himself in it; he may continue to absorb thos
e natural gods, and represent the moral gods in morality and in the life of the
State, or he may in practice live a godly life and bring into view the outward e
mbodiment and manifestation of divinity in i'estivals in his own subjectivity ;
still there yet remains for consciousness a " Beyond," that is to say, the entir
e particular element in action arid in the circumstances and relations of the in
dividual, and the connection of these relations with God. Our belief that Provid
ence in its action reaches even to the individual, finds its confirmation in the
fact that God has become man, and this in the actual and temporal mode within w
hich consequently all particular individuality is comprehended, for it is owing
to this that subjectivity has received the absolute moral justification by which
 it is subjectivity of the infinite self-consciousness. In the beautiful form gi
ven to the gods, in the images, stories, and local representations connected wit
h them, the element of infinite individuality, of particularity in its most extr
eme form, is doubtless directly contained and expressed, still it is a particula
rity which in one aspect of it is one of the chief defects charged against the m
ythology of Homer and Hesiod, while in another aspect these stories belong so sp
ecially to the gods represented that they have no reference to other gods or to
men, just as amongst men each individual has his own particular experiences, doi
ngs, circumstances, and history, which belong wholly and entirely to his particu
lar life. The moment of subjectivity does not appear as infinite subjectivity, i
t is not Spirit as such which is contemplated in the objective forms given to th
e divine ; and wisdom is what must constitute the fundamental characteristic of
the divine. This, as working in accordance with ends, must be comprised within o
ne infinite wisdom, within one subjectivity. The truth that human things are rul
ed over by the gods is thus no doubt involved in that religion, but in an indete
rminate, general sense, for it is just the gods who are the ruling powers in all
that concerns man. The gods too are certainly just, but justice, so far as it i
s one Power, is a titanic power and pertains to the ancient gods. The beautiful
gods have a valid existence of their own in their particular forms and come to b
e in collision, and these collisions are only settled by equal honour being give
n to all a method, however, which certainly gives no immanent settlement.
From gods such as these, in whom the absolute return into self has not made its
appearance, the individual could not look for absolute wisdom and ordered design
in connection with what happened to him in life. Man, however, still feels the
need of having above his particular acts and particular lot, an objective determ
ining principle. He does not possess this in the thought of divine wisdom and Pr
ovidence so as to be able to trust it in general, and for the rest to depend upo
n his own formal knowledge and will, and to await the absolute and entire consum
mation of these, or else to seek some compensation for the loss and failure of h
is particular interests and ends, or for his misfortune, in an eternal end.
When the particular interests of man, his happiness or misery, are concerned, we
find that this outward element in what happens still depends on whether a man d
oes this or that, goes to this or that other place. This is his act, his decisio
n, which he, however, in turn knows to be contingent. As regards the circumstanc
es which I actually know, I can doubtless decide one way or other. But besides t
hese thus known to me, others may exist through which the realisation of my end
is completely defeated. In connection with these actions I arn thus in the world
of contingency. Within this sphere knowledge is accordingly contingent ; it has
no relation to what is ethical, and truly substantial, to the duties to country
, the State, and so on ; man cannot, however, get to know this contingent elemen
t. The decision cousequently cannot so far have anything fixed about it, nor Le
in any way grounded in the nature of things, but in deciding I know at the same
time that I am dependent on what is other than myself, on what is unknown. Now,
since neither in the divine nor in the individual is the moment of infinite subj
ectivity present, it does not fall to the individual to take the final decision
of himself, to perform of himself the final act of will, for instance, to give b
attle to-day, to marry, to travel ; for the man is conscious that objectivity do
es not reside in this willing of his, and that it is formal merely. To satisfy t
he longing for this completion and to add on this objectivity, a direction from
without is required coming from one higher than the individual, that is, the dir
ection of an external, decisive, and definite sign. It is the inner free will wh
ich, that it may not be mere free will, makes itself objective, i.e., makes itse
lf inalienably into what is other than itself and accepts the external free will
as higher than itself. It is, speaking generally, some power of Nature, a natur
al phenomenon, which now decides. The man, amazed at what he sees, finds in such
a natural phenomenon something relative to himself, because he does not yet see
in it any objective essential significance, or, to put it otherwise, he does no
t see in Nature an inherently perfect system of laws. The formal rational elemen
t, the feeling and the belief in the identity of the inward and outward, lies at
the basis of his conception, but the inward element of Nature, or the universal
to which it stands related, is not the connection of its laws ; on the contrary
, it is a human end, a human interest.
When, accordingly, any one wills anything, he demands, in order actually to take
his resolution, an external objective confirmation or assurance ; he asks that
he should know his resolution to be one which is a unity of the subjective and o
bjective, one which is assured and ratified. And here this ratification is the u
nexpected, something which happens suddenly, a materially significant, unconnect
ed change in things, a flash in a clear sky, a bird rising up in a wide uniform
horizon, and which breaks in upon the indeterminateness of the inner irresolutio
n. This is an appeal to what is inward, an appeal to act suddenly, and to come t
o a determination within the mind in a chance way without a knowledge of the con
nection and grounds, for this is just the point at which the grounds or reasons
stop short, or at which they are in fact absent.
The outward phenomenon which is nearest at hand for the accomplishment of the en
d in view, namely, the finding out of what is to determine action, is a sound, a
noise, a voice, o/unpij, whence Delphi has got the name o/x^aXo?, a supposition
which is certainly more correct than that which would find in it the other mean
ing of the word, namely, the navel of the earth. In Dodona there were three kind
s of sounds the sound produced by the movement of the leaves in the sacred oak,
the murmuring of a spring, and the sound coming from a brazen vessel struck by r
ods of brass moved by the wind. At Delos the laurel rustled; at Delphi the wind
which blew on the brazen tripod was the principal element. It was not till later
on that the Pythia had to be stupefied by vapours, when in her raving she emitt
ed words without any connection, and which had first to be explained by the prie
st. It was the priest, too, who interpreted dreams. In the cave of Trophonius th
e inquirer saw visions, and these were interpreted to him. In Achaia, as Pausani
as relates, there was a statue of Mars, and the question was spoken into its ear
, after which the questioner went away from the market with his fingers in his e
ars. The first word heard by him after his ears were opened was the answer, whic
h was then connected with the question by interpretation. To the same class of s
igns belong also the questioning of the entrails of sacrificial animals, the sig
nification of the flight of birds, and several other such purely external rites.
Animals were slaughtered in sacrifice till auspicious tokens were got. In the c
ase of the oracles, two things went to constitute the verdict the outward word a
nd the explanation. With regard to the former, the mind took up a receptive atti
tude, but with regard to the latter, its attitude, as being the interpreter, was
an active one, for the outward element in itself was supposed to be indetermina
te. (At TU>V Saifj-ovutv (pooval avapOpol etVti/.) But even as representing the
concrete expression of the decision of the god, the oracles have a double meanin
g. Man acts in accordance with them while taking the words in one of their aspec
ts. The other meaning, however, appears in opposition to the first, and so man c
omes into collision with the oracle. The oracles just mean that man shows himsel
f to be ignorant, and shows that the god has knowledge ; as ignorant, man accept
s the utterance of the god who has knowledge. He consequently does not represent
the knowledge of something revealed, but the absence of the knowledge of this.
He does not act with knowledge in accordance with the revelation of the god, whi
ch, as being general, has no inherent determinate meaning, and thus, where there
is a possibility of two meanings, it must be ambiguous. The oracle says, "Depar
t, and the enemy will be conquered." Here both enemies are "the enemy." The reve
lation of the divine is general, and must be general ; man interprets it as one
who is ignorant, he acts in accordance with it. The action is his own, and thus
he knows himself to be responsible. The flight of birds, the rustling of oaks, a
re general signs. To the definite question, the god, as representing the divine
in general, gives a general answer, for it is only what is general, and not the
individual as such, that is included in the end aimed at by the gods. The genera
l is, however, indeterminate, ambiguous, capable of a double meaning, for it com
prises both sides. (c.) What came first in worship was religious sentiment ; the
n, secondly, we had worship as service, the concrete relationship, where, howeve
r, negativity as such has not yet appeared. The third form of the service of God
is the divine service of reconciliation. The gods must be realised in the soul,
in the subject, which is hypothetically estranged, i.e., negatively determined
relatively to the divine, and in opposition to it. The agreement cannot take pla
ce in the immediate way characteristic of the foregoing fortn ; on the contrary,
it demands a mediation in which that must be sacrificed which was formerly held
to be fixed and independent. This negative element, which must be yielded up in
order that the estrangement and alienation of the two sides may be removed, is
of a twofold kind. In the first place, the soul, in its character as the natural
or untutored soul, is negative relatively to Spirit ; the second negative eleme
nt is accordingly the positive-negative element, so to speak, that is, any misfo
rtune whatever, and more definitely, in the third place, a moral misfortune or c
rime, the extreme alienation of the subjective self-consciousness relatively to
the divine.
I. The soul in its natural state is not as it should be ; it ought to be free Sp
irit, but the soul is Spirit only through the abrogation of the natural will, of
the desires. This abrogation, this subjection of itself to what is moral, and t
he habituation to this so that the moral or spiritual becomes the second nature
of the individual, is, above all, the work of education and culture. The thought
of this reconstruction of man's nature must accordingly come into consciousness
at this standpoint, because it is the standpoint of self-conscious freedom, and
come into it in such a way as to show that this change or conversion is recogni
sed as requisite. If this training and conversion are represented as essential m
oments, and as essentially living, we get the idea of a road which the soul has
to traverse, and as a consequence we get the idea of some outward arrangement in
which it is supplied with the pictorial representation of this road. But if the
course followed by this conversion, this self-negation and dying to self, is to
be set forth for perception or pictorial contemplation as absolute and essentia
l, it must be beheld in the divine objects themselves. The -need for this has, a
s a matter of fact, been obviated by means of a process which, in the pictorial
representation of the world of the gods, has been carried out in the following w
ay.
It is a fact intimately connected with the adoration of the many divinities, whi
ch, however, just because they are many are limited divine beings, that there is
also a transition to the universality of the divine power. The limited characte
r of the gods itself leads directly to the idea of a transcendence, a rising abo
ve them, and to the attempt to unite them in one concrete picture, and not merel
y in abstract necessity, for the latter is not anything objective. As yet this t
ranscendence cannot here be the absolute inherently concrete subjectivity as Spi
rit, but neither can it be the return to the pictorial representation or percept
ion of the power of the One and to the negative service of the Lord. On the cont
rary, the One which is the object for self-consciousness at this standpoint is a
unity which is in a concrete fashion all-embracing; it is universal Nature as a
whole, or, a totality of gods, the content of the sensuousspiritual world unite
d in a material fashion. Inasmuch as selfconsciousness cannot advance to infinit
e subjectivity, which as Spirit would be inherently concrete, the perception or
picturing of substantial unity is something already present so far as this stage
is concerned and preserved from the older religions. For the older original rel
igions are the definite nature-religions, in which this Spinozism, namely, the i
mmediate unity of the spiritual and the natural, constitutes the foundation. But
further, the older form of religion, however much it may be locally defined and
limited in its outward representation and in the mode in which it is conceived
of, is, before it reaches its developed form, still inherently indefinite and ge
neral. Each local god in its determination of locality has at the same time the
significance of universality, and since this is firmly clung to as against the s
plitting up and particularisation into characters and individualities developed
in the Religion of Beauty, it is in what is rude and primitive, in what is unhea
utiful and uncultured, that the service of a deeper, inner universal, maintains
itself, a universal which is at the same time not abstract thought, but which, o
n the contrary, retains in itself that external and contingent form.
This older religion may, on account of its simplicity and substantial intensity,
be called deeper, purer, stronger, more substantial, and its meaning may be ter
med a truer one, but its meaning is essentially enveloped in a kind of haze, and
is not developed into thought, that is, is not developed into that clearness wh
ich marks the particular gods in whom the day of Spirit has dawned, and which ha
ve in consequence attained to character and spiritual form. The service of this
deeper and universal element involves, however, in it, the opposition of this de
eper and universal element itself to the particular, limited, and revealed power
s. It is, regarded from one side, a return from these to what is deeper, more in
ward, and so far higher, the bringing back of the many scattered gods into the u
nity of Nature, but it also involves the antithesis which is expressed by saying
that this deeper element is as opposed to clear self-consciousness, to the sere
nity of day and rationality, something dull and torpid, unconscious, crude, and
barbarous. The perception, or pictorial contemplation, in this kind of worship,
is accordingly in one aspect the perception of the universal life of Nature and
of natural force, a return to inward substantiality; but in another aspect it is
equally the perception of the process, of the transition from savagery to a sta
te of law, from barbarousness to morality, from mental torpor to the clear growi
ng certainty of self-consciousness, from the Titanic to the Spiritual. It is con
sequently not a god in his finished form who is beheld here, no abstract doctrin
e is propounded ; on the contrary, the content of perception is the conflict of
what is original and primitive, which is brought forth from its undeveloped stat
e into clearness, into form, into the daylight of consciousness. This idea is al
ready present in many exoteric and pictorial forms in mythology. The war of the
gods and the conquests of the Titans is just this divine issuing forth of the sp
iritual from the overcoming of the rude powers of Nature.
It is here accordingly that the action of the subjective side and its movement r
eceive their deeper determination. Worship cannot here be merely serene enjoymen
t, the enjoyment of present immediate unity with the particular powers ; for sin
ce the divine passes out of its particularity over to universality, and since se
lf-consciousness is reversed or inverted within itself, opposition is consequent
ly present, and the union starts from a separation greater than that presupposed
by outward worship. Worship here is rather the movement of an inward impression
made on the soul, an introduction to and initiation into an essentiality which
is for it foreign and abstract, an entrance into disclosures which its ordinary
life and the worship grounded on that do not contain. Just because the soul ente
rs into this sphere the demand is made that it should give up its natural Being
and essence. This worship is thus at the same time the purification of the soul,
a path to this purification, and a gradual progress towards it, the admission i
nto the high mystical Essence, and the attainment of a contemplation in pictoria
l form of its secrets, which, however, have for the initiated ceased to be secre
ts, and can only still remain such in the sense that the pictures thus contempla
ted, and this content, are not introduced into the sphere of ordinary existence
and consciousness, that is, into the sphere of ordinary action and reflection. A
ll Athenian citizens were initiated into the Eleusinian .mysteries. A secret is
thus essentially something known, only not by all. Here, however, there is somet
hing known by all, which is merely treated as secret, i.e., secret only to this
extent, that it is not made the talk of everyday life, just as we see in the cas
e of Jews, who do not name the name Jehovah, or, to take an opposite case, just
as in daily life there are things known to all but of which no one speaks. But t
hese pictures of the divine were not mystical in the sense in which the public d
octrines of Christendom have been called mysteries. For in the case of the latte
r the mystical element is the inward and speculative element. What had been seen
by the initiated had to remain secret, mainly because the Greeks would not have
 been able to speak of it otherwise than in myths, that is to say, not without a
ltering what was old. But even in this worship, although it starts from a defini
te opposition, joyousness or serenity still continues to constitute the basis. T
he path of purification is traversed indeed, but that does not represent the inf
inite pain and doubt in which the abstract self-consciousness isolates itself fr
om itself in its abstract knowledge, and because of this moves and pulsates mere
ly within itself when in this empty abstract form, is merely a kind of inward tr
embling, and in this abstract certainty of itself cannot absolutely reach fixed
truth and objectivity, nor come to have the feeling of these. On the contrary, i
t is always on the basis of that unity that this traversing of the path exists a
nd has value as the actually completed purification of the soul, as absolution,
and having this original unconscious basis remains rather an external process of
the soul, since the latter does not go down into the innermost depths of negati
vity as is the case where subjectivity is completely developed and attains to in
finitude. If terrors, frightful images, forms inspiring dread, and such like, ar
e already employed here, and if, on the other hand, and in contrast to this dark
side, bright and brilliant representations, significant pictures full of splend
our are made use of to produce a deeper effect on the mind, the initiated is pur
ified in the very process of passing through the experience of seeing these pict
orial forms and having these emotions.
These mystical perceptions or pictorial forms accordingly correspond to those pi
ctorial forms of the divine life, the process of which is set forth in tragedy a
nd comedy. The fear, the sympathy, the grief represented in tragedy, all those c
onditions in which self-consciousness is carried away, and in which it shares, a
re just what forms that process of purification which accomplishes all that shou
ld be accomplished. In the same way the pictorial representations of comedy, and
the giving up by Spirit of its dignity, of its value, of its opinion of itself,
and even of its fundamental powers, this entire surrender of all that belongs t
o self, is just this worship in which the spirit, through this surrender of all
that is finite, enjoys and retains the indestructible certainty of itself.
In public worship even the main interest is not so much the paying of honour to
the gods as the enjoyment of the divine. Since, however, in this worship of myst
eries, the soul is on its own account elevated into an end and is regarded in th
is condition of contrast as abstract, independent, and, as it were, sundered fro
m the divine, the idea of the immortality of the soul necessarily makes its appe
arance here. The completed purification raises it above the temporal, fleeting,
present existence, and inasmuch as it is made permanently free, the idea of the
passing over of the individual as one dead on his natural side, into an eternal
life, is closely associated with this form of worship. The individual is made a
citizen of the essential, ideal kingdom of the under world, in which temporal re
ality is reduced to the condition of a phantom world.
Since then the mysteries represent the return of the Greek spirit to its first b
eginnings, the form of what constitutes these is essentially symbolical, i.e., t
he signification is something other than the outward representation. The Greek g
ods themselves are not symbolical; they are what they represent, just as the con
ception of a work of art means the giving expression to what is meant, and does
not mean that what is inward is something different from what is outwardly seen.
Even if the beginnings of the Greek god are to be traced back to some such anci
ent symbolic representation, still what this is actually made into has become th
e work of art which perfectly expresses what it is intended to be. Many have sou
ght, and especially Creuzer, to investigate the historical origin of the Greek g
ods, and the signification which lies at the basis of their character. But if th
e god is a subject for art, that alone is a good work of art which exhibits him
as what he actually is. In the religions of nature this is a mystery, something
inward, a symbol, because the outward form does not actually reveal the meaning
which lies in this mystery, the idea rather being that it is merely intended to
reveal it. Osiris is a symbol of the sun, and similarly Hercules and his twelve
labours have reference to the months ; thus he is a god of the calendar, and no
longer the modern Greek god. In the mysteries, the content, the manifestation, i
s essentially symbolical. The principal symbols had reference to Ceres, Demeter,
Bacchus, and the secrets connected with these. As Ceres, who seeks her daughter
, is in the language of prose the seed that must die in order to retain its true
essence and to bring it into life, so, too, the seed and the germination of the
seed are in turn something symbolical ; ior, as in the Christian religion, they
have the higher signification of resurrection, or they can be taken as meaning
that the same holds good of Spirit, whose true essence or potential nature can b
ear blossoms only through the annulling of the natural will. Thus the meaning ch
anges about ; at one time this content signifies an idea, some process, and then
again the idea, the signification, may itself be the symbol for something else.
Osiris is the Nile which is dried up by Typhon, the fireworld, and is again bro
ught into existence ; but he is also a symbol of the sun, a universal life-givin
g power of Nature. Osiris finally is also a spiritual figure, and in this case t
he Nile and the sun are in turn symbols of the spiritual. Such symbols are natur
ally mysterious. The inward element is not clear as yet ; it exists first as mea
ning, signification, which has not yet attained to true outward representation.
The outward form does nt)t perfectly express the content, so that the latter rem
ains in a partially expressed shape at the basis of. the whole without coming fo
rth into existence. Hence it came about that the mysteries could not give to the
self-consciousness of the Greeks true reconciliation. Socrates was declared by
the oracle to be the wisest of the Greeks, and to him is to be traced the re^l r
evolution which took place in the Greek selfconsciousness. This pivot, so to spe
ak, of self-consciousness was not, however, himself initiated into the mysteries
; they stand far below what he brought into the consciousness of the thinking w
orld. All this has to do with the first form of reconciliation.
. The other negative element is misfortune in general, sickness, dearth, or any
other mishaps. This negative element is explained by the prophets, and brought i
nto connection with some guilty act or transgression. A negative of this kind fi
rst appears in the physical world in the shape, for example, of an unfavourable
wind. The physical condition is then explained as having a spiritual connection,
and as involving in itself the ill-will and wrath of the gods that ill-will and
wrath which are brought upon men by some crime and by some offence against the
divine. Or it may be that lightning, thunder, an earthquake, the appearance of s
nakes, and such-like are interpreted to mean something negative which essentiall
y attaches to a spiritual and moral Power. In this case the injury has to be don
e away with through sacrifice, and in such a way that he who has shown himself a
rrogant by committing the crime, imposes a forfeiture oil himself, for arrogance
is an injury done to a spiritual higher Power, to which accordingly humility ha
s to sacrifice something in order to propitiate it and restore the equilibrium.
In the case of the Greeks this idea seems rather to belong to primitive times. W
hen the Greeks wished to depart from Aulis, and unfavourable winds held them bac
k, Calchas interpreted the storm to be the wrath of Poseidon, who demands the da
ughter of Agamemnon as a sacrifice. Agamemnon is ready to give her up to the god
. Diana saves the girl. In the CEdipus Tyrannus of Sophocles a certain disease i
s sent by means of which the deed of the parricide is disclosed. In later times
such ideas no longer make their appearance. During the pestilence in the Pelopon
nesian war we hear nothing of the worship of the gods ; no sacrifice was made du
ring this war ; we meet only with predictions of its conclusion. The appeal to t
he oracle implies that such a sacrifice has become antiquated. That is to say, i
f counsel is asked of the oracle, the result is viewed as determined by the god
himself. Thus the result came to be regarded as something which has to happen, a
s a matter of necessity, a matter of fixed destiny, in connection with which no
reconciliation could have a place, which could not be averted and could not be r
emedied.
. The final form of reconciliation implies that the negative is really a crime,
and is so regarded and declared to be such ; not a crime which is only perceived
 to be such by the help of the explanation given through some misfortune. An ind
ividual, a state, a people commits a crime ; from the human point of view the pu
nishment is the propitiation for the crime either in the form of punishment or i
n the cruder form of revenge. The free spirit has the self-consciousness of its
majesty, whereby it has to make what has happened as if it had not happened, and
to do this within itself. An outward act of pardon is something different, but
that what has happened can within the mind itself come to be what has not happen
ed, is something which belongs to the higher privilege of free self-consciousnes
s, where evil is not merely act, but is something fixed and settled, and has its
seat in the heart, in the guilty soul. The free soul can purify itself from thi
s evil. Faint resemblances of this inward conversion do occur, but the general c
haracter of reconciliation here is rather outward purification. With the Greeks
this too is something belonging to ancient times. A couple of instances of this
are well known in connection with the history of Athens. A son of Minos was slai
n in Athens, and on account of this deed a purification was undertaken. ^Eschylu
s relates that the Areopagus acquitted Orestes ; the rock of Athena stood him in
good stead. The reconciliation here is regarded as something outward, not as in
ward confession. The idea expressed in (Edipus at Colonos savours of Christian t
hought ; in it this old (Edipus, who slew his father and married his mother, and
who was banished along with his sons, is raised to a place of honour among the
gods ; the gods call him to themselves. Other sacrifices belong still more to th
e outward mode of reconciliation. This is the case with the sacrifices to the de
ad, which are intended to propitiate the Manes. Achilles, for example, slew a nu
mber of Trojans on the grave of Patroclus, his intention being to restore the un
iformity of destiny on both sides.
THE RELIGION OF UTILITY OR OF THE UNDERSTANDING.
A. THE GENERAL CONCEPTION OF THIS STAGE.
In the Religion of Beauty empty necessity was the ruling principle, and in the R
eligion of Sublimity unity in the form of abstract subjectivity. In the latter r
eligion we find, besides unity, the infinitely limited real end, and in the form
er again, besides necessity, we have moral substantiality, the Eight, the presen
t and real in. empirical self-consciousness. In the bosom of necessity repose th
e many particular powers and partake of its essentiality. Represented as individ
uals, they are spiritual concrete subjects, and each represents a particular nat
ional spirit. They are living spirits, as, for instance, Athene is for Athens, B
acchus for Thebes, and they are also family gods, though they are at the same ti
me transferable, because they are in their nature universal powers. Consequently
the objects also with which such gods take to do are particular towns, states,
and, speaking generally, a mass of particular ends.
Thus this particularity when brought under a " One " or Unity represents determi
nateness in its more definite form. The next demand of thought is for the union
of that universality and of this particularity of these ends, in such wise that
abstract necessity has its emptiness filled within itself with the particularity
, with the end.
In the Religion of Sublimity, the end, when it took on a realised form, was an i
solated end shutting off one particular family from others. A higher stage is ac
cordingly reached when this end is widened so as to correspond to the compass of
the Power, and when at the same time this Power itself is further developed. Th
e particularity which is developed in detail as a divine aristocracy, and togeth
er with this the real national spirit in its various forms, which as an end come
s to form part of the essential character of the Divine and is preserved within
it, must get a place also within the unity. This cannot, however, be the truly s
piritual unity such as we have in the Religion of Sublimity. The characteristics
of the earlier stages are rather merely put back into a relative totality in wh
ich, it is true, both the religions which preceded lose their one-sidedness, but
 in which at the same time each of the two principles is also perverted into its
opposite. The Religion of Beauty loses tlie concrete individuality of its gods,
as well as their independent moral content or character. The gods are degraded
to the rank of means. The Religion of Sublimity again loses its tendency to occu
py itself with the One, the eternal, the supernatural. Their union, however, is
a step in advance in this, that the single end and the particular ends are broad
ened out so as to form a universal end. This end has to be realised, and God is
the Power which is to realise it.
Action in accordance with an end is a peculiarity not only of Spirit but of life
in general. It is the action of the Idea, for it is an act of production which
is no longer a passing over into something other or different, whether it is now
characterised as other, or, as in the case of necessity, as potentially the sam
e, though in its outward form, and as existing for others, it is an " other." In
the end, any content, as being what is primary, is independent of the form whic
h the transition takes, and of the alteration which takes place, so that it main
tains itself within it. The impulse of this flower-like nature, which may take o
n an external form under the influence of the most manifold conditions, shows it
self in the production only of its own development, and only in the simple form
of the transition from subjectivity into objectivity. The form which reveals its
elf in the result is that which was formed before or pre-formed in the germ.
Action in accordance with an end is closely allied to the form of spiritual mani
festation which we last considered ; but spiritual manifestation in that form is
, to begin with, only the superficial mode in which anything having a definite n
ature and any spiritual determinateness appears, apart from the existence of thi
s determinateness as such under the form or mode of the end or Idea. The abstrac
t characterisation and the basis of the religion which went before were expresse
d by the idea of necessity, and outside of it was the fulness of Nature, spiritu
al and physical, which accordingly is broken up so as to have definite quality a
nd to exist in definite time ; while the unity is in its own nature devoid of co
ntent, roots itself within itself, and receives that serenity or joyousness whic
h at once raises it above its determinateness and renders it indifferent towards
it, only from the spiritual form and from ideality. Necessity is freedom potent
ially only, is not yet wisdom, and is devoid of an end. In it we find freedom on
ly in so far as we yield up the content of freedom. Anything that is necessary,
doubtless, represents something having a content, some occurrence or other, cond
ition and consequence, &c. ; but its content as such is something contingent. It
may take this particular form, or it may take some other form ; or, to put it o
therwise, necessity is just a formal mode of existence, and its content consists
merely in the fact that it is, but suggests nothing of what it is. It consists
only in holding fast to this abstract form of existence.
Necessity, however, buries itself in the Notion. The Notion, or freedom, is the
truth of necessity. To grasp anything in thought means that we conceive of it as
a moment of a connected whole, which in its character as a connected whole has
the element of difference in it, and has thus a definite and substantial nature.
The connection between things which is expressed by cause and effect is itself
as yet a connection of necessity, i.e., it is as yet formal. What is wanting in
it is that a content be posited as determined for itself, traversant ce changeme
nt de cause en effect sans change, a content which passes through the change of
cause and effect without alteration. In this case, in fact, the external relatio
n and reality as embodied in different forms are degraded to the condition of me
ans. In order to the carrying out of an end it is necessary to have means, i.e.,
something external with the power of producing effects, the essential mark of w
hich consists in its being subordinate to the movement of the end, which preserv
es itself in its movement, and does away with its transitional character. In cau
se and effect we have potentially the same content, but it appears in the form o
f actual independent things which mutually affect each other. The end, however,
is this content which is posited as identity with itself in contrast to the appa
rent difference between reality and the form in which reality appears. According
ly, in the case of action carried out in accordance with an end, nothing can com
e out of it which was not already there.
So far as the end is concerned, it is just in this that the difference between t
he end and the reality is found. The end maintains itself, mediates itself only
with itself, coincides only with itself, brings about the unity of itself in the
form of the unity of what is subjective with reality ; but it does this through
means. It is the power which is above reality, the power which has at the same
time a primary content determined in and for itself, and this content is what is
first and continues to be what is last. The end is thus the necessity which has
taken into itself the external, particular content, and holds it fast as agains
t reality, which has a negative character and is degraded to a means.
This unity of the content which ever dominates reality, freeing itself from its
power, and maintaining itself in opposition to it, is accordingly present in lif
e. The content, however, is not free in its own nature, free for itself in the e
lement of Thought ; it has not been given a higher form in the mode of its ident
ity, it is not spiritual. The same unity exists in the spiritually formed ideal
; but inasmuch as it is represented as being present in a free form and as beaut
y, it belongs to a higher stage than what has life. The quality of this unity is
, so far, to be regarded as an end, and what it produces is action in accordance
with an end. Its qualities, however, are not represented under the mode of the
end e.g., Apollo and Pallas do not set it before them as an end to produce and e
xtend science and poetry ; Ceres and the mystic Bacchus do not make the producti
on and the teaching of laws an end. They take under their protection what consti
tutes the laws, it is their special care; but here the separation between end an
d reality does not exist. These beings which have divine nature are those very p
owers and activities themselves ; the Muse is herself the composition of poetry
; Athene herself is Athenian life the happiness and well-being of the city is no
t her end ; but, on the contrary, these powers rule in as immanent a way in the
reality with which they are connected as the laws act within the planets.
And further, as the gods in the stage of thought represented by beauty are in no
sense means, they are just as little mutually opposed as independent; rather, t
hey themselves disappear in necessity. If they do at a time act on their own acc
ount, they soon submit again and allow themselves to be put in their right place
. While, accordingly, in necessity one determination depends on another, and the
determinate character passes away, the end is posited as identity with differen
ce and reality in it, the unity which is determined in and for itself, and which
maintains itself in its determinate character as against the determinate charac
ter of something else.
The Notion, accordingly, in so far as it is posited as free in its own nature, o
r for self, is at first confronted by reality, and this is characterised in refe
rence to it as negative. In the absolute Notion, the pure Idea, this reality, th
is hostile element, melts away into unity, and gets to be on a friendly footing
with the Notion itself ; it throws off its peculiar individual character, and is
itself freed from the position of being merely a means. It is this which is the
true conformity to an end in which is posited the unity of the Notion, of God,
of the Divine Subject or person, with that in which the Notion realises itself,
namely, objectivity and realisation, and it is the very nature of God Himself wh
ich realises itself in objectivity, and is thus identical with itself viewed und
er the aspect of reality.
At first, however, the end itself is as yet immediate, formal ; its first determ
ination consists in this that what is thus determined in itself should, in refer
ence to reality, be for itself, should exist independently, and realise itself i
n it as something offering resistance to it. It is thus at first a finite end, a
nd the relation between things expressed by it is a relation of the understandin
g, and the religion which is founded on such a basis is a religion of the unders
tanding.
In the religion of the One we have already had an end somewhat of this sort, and
something which had a close resemblance to this religion of the understanding.
The religion of the One is also a religion of the understanding in so far as thi
s One maintains itself as end as against reality of every kind, and the Jewish r
eligion is on this account the religion of the understanding in its most rigid a
nd lifeless form. This end consisting, as it does, in the glorification of the n
ame of God, is formal, it has no absolutely definite character, but is only abst
ract manifestation. The people of God, it is true, represent a more definite end
as an individual people ; but this is a kind of end which it is wholly impossib
le to form a conception of, and is an end only in the sense in which the servant
is an end for his Lord. It does not represent the nature of God Himself; it is
not His end ; it is not divine determinateness.
When we say that God is the Power which works in accordance with ends, and in ac
cordance with the ends of wisdom, we are speaking in a sense different from that
which at first attaches to this characterisation as applied to the stage of the
development of the Notion at which we have arrived. What we mean is that those
ends are undoubtedly also limited, finite ends, but that they are essentially en
ds of wisdom in general, and ends of one wisdom, i.e., ends of the Good in and f
or itself, ends which have reference to one supreme final end. These ends are co
nsequently subordinate simply to one end, or aim. The limited ends and the wisdo
m in them are of a subordinate character.
Here, however, the limitation of the ends is the fundamental characteristic, and
this has no higher one above it.
Religion of this sort is consequently in no sense a religion of unity, but rathe
r of multiplicity ; it is neither one Power nor one wisdom, one Idea, which cons
titutes the fundamental determination of the divine nature.
Thus the ends which constitute the content of those forms of existence are defin
ite ends, and these ends are not to be sought for in Nature ; but, on the contra
ry, we find that amongst the many forms of existence, and of the relations betwe
en things, those that have reference to man are undoubtedly the really essential
ones. What is human is inherently possessed of thought, and man, in pursuing hi
s end, however unimportant it may be in itself, as, for instance, in seeking nou
rishment, &c., has the right of using up natural things and animal life without
further ado and to whatever extent he may choose. Just for this very reason the
ends are not to be sought for as if they existed objectively in the gods and in
and for themselves. On the contrary, this religion, in so far as it is a definit
e religion, owes its origin to human ends, to human need or fortunate events and
circumstances.
In the religion which went before this one, it was necessity which was the unive
rsal, and which floated above the particular.
This cannot be the case at the present stage ; for in necessity finite ends disa
ppear as in a higher form, while here, on the contrary, they represent what give
s definite character to things and persists. At this stage the universal represe
nts rather the consent to or agreement with particular ends, and, in fact, conse
nt in general ; for here the universal must remain undefined, because the ends r
emain individual ends, and their universality is only of the abstract sort, and
is thus Happiness.
This happiness, however, is not to be distinguished from necessity as belonging
to the class of contingent things, for in that case it would be the necessity it
self, in which those very finite ends are merely contingent ; nor is it foreordi
nation in general, and the directing of finite things in accordance with an end
; but, rather, it is happiness with a definite content, with certain definite el
ements.
But a definite content, again, does not mean any kind of random content in gener
al. On the contrary, although it is finite and actually present, it must be univ
ersal in its nature, and its existence must be justified on higher grounds justi
fied in and for itself. And this end accordingly is the State.
The State, however, as representing this end is, to begin with, only the abstrac
t State the union of men held together by some bond, but in such a way that this
union is not yet in itself in the form of a rational organisation, and it does
not yet take this form because God is not yet a rational organisation in Himself
. Such conformity to an end as there is, is external ; if it were conceived of a
s existing inwardly, it would represent the peculiar nature of God. Just because
God is not yet this concrete Idea, because He does not yet represent in Himself
the true fulness of Himself reached through Himself, this end, namely, the Stat
e, is not yet a rational totality in itself, and does not therefore deserve the
name State, but is merely a kind of dominion or sovereignty, the union of indivi
duals, of peoples, held together by some bond under one Power. Since, too, we ha
ve here the distinction between end and realisation, this end exists at first on
ly in a subjective form, and not as end which has been carried out, and the real
isation of it is represented by the acquiring of sovereignty, the realisation of
an end which is of an ft priori character, which, in the first instance, lays h
old of the peoples and carries itself out.
As this quality of external utility or action in accordance with an end is diffe
rent from the moral substantiality of Greek life, and from the identity of the d
ivine Powers and their external existence, so, too, this sovereignty, this uni't
ersal monarchy, this end is to be distinguished from that of the Mohammedan reli
gion. In this latter, sovereignty over the world is also the end sought after ;
but what is to exercise sovereignty is the One of Thought, the One of the Israel
itish religion. Or when, as in the Christian religion, it is said that God wills
that all men should come to a consciousness of the truth, the nature of the end
is spiritual. Each individual is thought of as a thinking being, as spiritual,
free, and actually present in the end, it possesses in him a central point, it i
s not any kind of external end, and the subject embraces within himself the enti
re extent of the end. Here, on the contrary, it is still empirical, a sovereignt
y of the world which embraces it in an external way. The end which exists in thi
s sovereignty is one which lies outside of the individual, and the more it is re
alised the more external does it become, so that the individual is brought into
subjection simply to this end, and serves it.
The union of universal power and universal individuality is, to begin with, impl
icitly contained here, but it is, so to speak, only a crude union, devoid of Spi
rit. The power is not wisdom, its reality is not a divine end in and for itself.
It is not the One who derives his fulness from himself ; this fulness is not co
nceived of as existing in the realm of thought ; the power is worldly power, wor
ldliness merely as sovereignty, and power in this aspect is virtually irrational
. In presence of the power all that is particular accordingly crumbles away, bec
ause it is not taken up into it in a rational way, and it takes on the form of s
elf-seeking on the part of the individual, of satisfaction in an ungodly way in
particular interests. The sovereignty is outside of reason, and stands coldly, s
elfishly, on the one side, just as the individual does on the other.
This is the general conception of this religion. The demand for what is highest
is implicitly stated in it, namely, the union of what has pure Being in itself a
nd of particular ends ; but the union here is of the ungodly, undivine, crude so
rt just described.
B. THIS RELIGION AS IT APPEARS OUTWARDLY IN HISTORY IS REPRESENTED BY THE ROMAN
RELIGION.
It is customary to take in a superficial way the Eoman religion along with the G
reek religion ; but the spirit of the one is essentially different from that of
the other. Even if they possess certain outward forms in common, still these occ
upy quite a different place in the religion we are dealing with ; and the religi
ons as a whole, and the religious sentiment connected with them, are essentially
different, as is indeed already evident from an external, superficial, and empi
rical examination of them.
It is allowed in a general way that the State, the constitution of a State, the
political destiny of any people, depends on its religion, that this is the basis
, the substance of its actual spiritual life and the foundation of what we call
its politics. The Greek and Roman spirit, culture, and character are, however, w
holly and essentially different, and this fact must of itself bring us to the di
fference in the religions which form the substance of these.
The divine Beings belonging to this circle of thought are practical and not theo
retical gods ; prosaic, not poetical ; although, as we shall presently see, this
stage is the richest of all in the constantly new discovery and production of g
ods.
I. So far as regards abstract religious sentiment and spiritual tendencies, the
earnestness of the Romans is what first calls for remark. Where one end exists,
and that an essentially solid one which has to be realised, the understanding re
ferred to comes into play, and along with it the earnestness which clings firmly
to this end, in opposition to a great deal else which is present in feeling or
in external circumstances.
In the religion which comes before this one, the religion of abstract necessity
and of particular individual beings who are beautiful and divine, it is freedom
which constitutes the fundamental character of the gods and which gives to them
their joyousness and bliss. They are not exclusively attached to any single form
of existence, but are essential powers, and represent at the same time the iron
y which governs all that they seek to do; what is particular and empirical has n
o importance for them.
The joyousness of the Greek religion, which is the fundamental trait of the sent
iment pervading it, is based on the circumstance that although an end certainly
exists and is regarded with reverence, as holy, still there is present at the sa
me time this freedom from the end, and it is directly based on the fact that the
Greek gods are many in number. Each Greek god has more or less substantial attr
ibutes, moral substantiality ; but just because there are many particular attrib
utes, consciousness or Spirit is something above and beyond this manifold elemen
t, and exists outside of its particular forms. It abandons what is characterised
as substantial and which can also be considered as end, and is itself the irony
referred to.
The ideal beauty of these gods, and their universal character itself, is somethi
ng higher than their particular character ; thus Mars can find pleasure in peace
as well as in war. They are gods of fancy existing for the moment, without cons
istency, now appearing on their own account, independently, and now returning ag
ain to Olympus.
Where, on the contrary, one principle, one supreme principle and one higher end
exist, there can be no room for this joyousness or serenity. Further, the Greek
god is a concrete individuality, and each of these many particular individuals h
as itself ngain many different characteristics within it ; there is here a rich
individuality which must necessarily possess and give evidence of the existence
in it of the element of contradiction, just because the two opposite elements in
it have not yet been absolutely reconciled.
Since the gods have in themselves this wealth of external characteristics, we ha
ve a certain element of indifference existing in reference to those particular q
ualities, and they can be made sport of and be treated with levity. It is with t
his side of their nature that the element of contingency which we observed attac
hed to them in the stories of the gods, is connected.
Dionysius of Halicarnassus, in drawing a comparison between the Greek and the Eo
man religion, extols the religious institutions of Rome, and points out the grea
t superiority of the old Roman religion to the Greek. It has temples, altars, di
vine worship, sacrifice, solemn religious gatherings, festivals, symbols, &c., i
n common with the Greek religion ; but the myths with their blasphemous features
, the mutilations, the imprisonments, the wars, the squabbles, &c., of the gods,
are excluded from it. These, however, belong to the gods in their joyous aspect
, they lay themselves open to this, they are made sport of in comedy, and yet in
all this they have a safe and undisturbed existence. When the element of seriou
sness comes in, then the outward form taken by gods, their actions and the event
s in their life, must appear in a way which is in conformity with a fixed princi
ple. In free individuality, on the other hand, there are no such fixed ends, no
such one-sided moral characterisations of the understanding. ^The gods, it is tr
ue, contain within them the moral element ; but at the same time, since they hav
e a particular definitely marked existence, they are possessed of a rich individ
uality, and are concrete. In this rich individuality the element of earnestness
is not at all a necessary characteristic ; on the contrary, it is free in all it
s separate manifestations, it can roam about in a light-hearted way through ever
ything, and it remains what it is. The stories which appear to be unworthy of go
ds have reference to the general aspects of the nature of things, the creation o
f the world, &c. ; they have their origin in old traditions, in abstract views r
egarding the processes of the elements. The universal element in these views is
obscured, but it is hinted at ; and in this external way of regarding things, an
d in this want of order amongst things, a glimpse is first got of the universal
nature of the intelligence which shows itself in them. In a religion, on the oth
er hand, in which a definite end is present, all reference to theoretical points
of view from which intelligence may be regarded disappears. No theories, and in
fact nothing universal, are to be found in the Religion of Utility. The deity h
as here a definite character or content, namely, the sovereignty of the world. T
he universality here is empirical, not moral or spiritual, but is rather a real,
actual universality.
The Eoman god representing this sovereignty is to be looked for in Fortuna publi
ca, the necessity which for others is a cold unsympathetic necessity ; the parti
cular necessity which contains the end concerned with Eome itself is Boma, sover
eignty, a holy and divine Being, and this sovereign Roma in the form of a god wh
o exercises sovereignty is Jupiter Capitolinus, a particular Jupiter for there a
re many Jupiters, three hundred Joves in fact.
This Jupiter Capitolinus is not Zeus, who is the father of gods and men ; but ra
ther, he simply stands for the idea of sovereignty, and has his end in the world
, and it is for the Eoman people that he carries out this end. The Eoman people
is the universal family, while in the Religion of Beauty the divine end was repr
esented by many families, and in the religion of the One, on the other hand, by
one family only.
. This god is not the truly spiritual One, and just because of this the Particul
ar lies outside of this unity of sovereignty. The Power is merely abstract, mere
ly Power, and is not a rational organisation, a totality in itself, and just bec
ause of this the Particular appears as something which lies outside of the One,
outside of the sovereign power.
This particular element appears partly, too, in the form taken by the Greek gods
, or else we find that later on it was put side by side with them by the Romans
themselves. Thus the Greeks, too, find their gods in Persia, Syria, and Babyloni
a, though, at the same time, this represents something different from the peculi
ar way in which they regarded their gods, and from the definite character of the
se gods, and it is only a superficial universality.
Looked at in a general way, the particular Roman deities, or at least many of th
em, are the same as the Greek. But still they have not the beautiful free indivi
duality of the Greek gods ; they seem to be grey, so to speak. We do not know wh
ere they come from, or else we know that they have been introduced in connection
with some definite occasions. And besides, we must distinguish the real Eoman g
ods from those Greek gods which the later poets such as Virgil and Horace have i
ntroduced into their artificial poetry in the form of lifeless imitations.
We do not find in them that consciousness, that humanity which is the substantia
l element in men as in the gods, and in the gods as in men. They appear like mac
hines with nothing spiritual in them, and show themselves to be gods of the unde
rstanding which have no connection with a free beautiful spirit, with a free bea
utiful fancy. So, too, in those modern botches done by the French, they have the
appearance of wooden figures or machines. It is, in fact, for this reason that
the forms in which the Romans represent their gods have appealed more strongly t
o the moderns than those of the Greek gods, because the former have more the app
earance of empty gods of the understanding which have no longer any connection w
ith the free and living play of fancy.
Besides those particular gods which the Romans have in common with the Greeks, t
here are many gods and ways of worshipping God which are peculiar to the Eomans.
Sovereignty is the end sought after by the citizen ; but the aims of the indivi
dual are not yet exhausted by this he has also his own particular ends. The part
icular ends lie outside of this abstract end.
The particular ends, however, become perfectly prosaic particular ends, and it i
s the common particularity of man regarded in the manifold aspects of his necess
ities, or of his connection with Nature, which comes to the front here. God is n
ot that concrete individuality above referred to. Jupiter is simply sovereignty
; while the particular individual gods are dead, lifeless, without mind or spiri
t, or, what is more, they are got at second-hand.
Particularity thus bereft of universality, and existing on its own account, is s
omething quite common ; it is the prosaic particularity of man, but it is an end
for man, and he uses this or that other thing to accomplish his end. Anything,
however, which is an end for man is in this region of thought a characteristic o
f the Divine.
The end aimed at by man and the divine end are one, but it is an end which lies
outside of the Idea ; thus human ends rank as divine ends, and consequently as d
ivine powers, and so we get these many particular and supremely prosaic deities.

We thus see on one side this universal Power which is sovereignty ; in it the in
dividuals are sacrificed and have no standing as individuals. Regarding the matt
er from the other side, we see that the definite element, just because that unit
y, God, is something abstract, lies outside of this unity, and thus it is what i
s human that is essentially the end ; it is the human element which gives fulnes
s to God by creating a content for Him.
In the Religion of Beauty, which represents the stage preceding the present one,
 free, universal, and moral powers constitute the object of adoration. Although
they are limited, still they have an objective, independently existing content,
and in the very act of contemplating them the ends of individuality melt away, a
nd .the individual is raised above his needs and necessities. They are free, and
the individual attains to freedom in them ; just because of this he glories in
his identity with them, he enjoys their favour and is worthy of it, for he has n
o interests opposed to theirs, and in his needs and necessities, and in general
in his particular existence, he is not an end to himself. Whether he will succee
d in carrying out particular ends or not is a question he refers to the oracles
only, or else he surrenders them to necessity. The individual ends here have, to
begin with, a negative signification only, and are not something having a compl
ete and independent existence.
In this religion of happiness, however, it is the self-seeking of the worshipper
s which is reflected in their practical gods in the shape of power, and which se
eks in them and from them the satisfaction of its subjective interests. Self-see
king has in it a feeling of dependence, and just because it is purely finite, th
is feeling is peculiar to it. The Oriental who lives in light; the Hindu who sin
ks his self-consciousness in Brahma ; the Greek who yields up his particular end
s in the presence of necessity, and beholds in the particular powers his own pow
ers, powers which are friendly towards him, which inspire and animate him, and a
re in unity with him lives in his religion without the feeling of dependence. Fa
r from being dependent, he is free free before his God. It is only in Him that h
e possesses his freedom, and he is dependent only outside of his religion, for i
n it he has thrown away his dependence. Self-seeking again, need, necessity, sub
jective happiness, the pleasure seeking life, which .wills itself, keeps to itse
lf, feels itself oppressed, starts from the feeling that its interests are depen
dent on the deity. The Power which is above these interests has a positive signi
fication, and has itself an interest for the subject, since it is to carry out i
ts ends. So far it simply signifies that it is a means for the realisation of it
s ends. This is the sneaking hypocritical element in such humility ; for its own
ends are and must be the content, the end of this Power. This kind of conscious
ness accordingly has no theoretical position in religion, i.e., it does not cons
ist in a free contemplation of objectivity, in an honouring of these powers, but
only in practical selfishness, in a demand for the satisfaction of the individu
al interests of this life. It is the understanding which in this religion holds
fast by its finite ends, by something w.hich has been posited jn a one-sided way
by itself, and which is interesting only for it, and it neither sinks such abst
ractions and individual details in necessity nor resolves them in reason. Thus p
articular ends, needs, powers, appear also as gods. The content of these gods is
prac^ tical utility ; they serve the common good or profit.
Thus () the transition is made to gods who are wholly single or particular.
The family gods belong to this or that particular citizen. The Lares, on the oth
er hand, are connected with natural morality and piety, with the moral unity of
the family. There are other gods, again, whose conteut or character has referenc
e to utility pure and simple of a still more special kind.
Since human life and action of this kind appear also in a form from which the ne
gative element of evil at all events is absent, the satisfaction of those needs
which belong to life takes the shape of a simple, peaceful, primitive, natural s
tate. The time of Saturn, the state of innocence, is the picture which floats be
fore the mind of the Roman, and the satisfaction of the needs proper to such a c
ondition of things is represented by a crowd of gods. Thus the Romans had many f
estivals and a crowd of gods, which were connected with the fruitful ness of the
earth as well as with the skill of men, who appropriate for their own use the o
perations of Nature. Thus we find a Jupiter Pistor ; the art of baking ranks as
something divine, and the power connected with the art as something having subst
antial existence. Fornax, the oven in which the corn is dried, is a goddess by h
erself ; Vesta is the fire used for baking bread ; for in her character as 'Ecrr
/a a higher meaning is attached to the name, and one which has reference to fami
ly piety. The Romans had their pig, sheep, and bullock festivals ; in the rites
connected with the worship of Pales they sought to propitiate the goddess who ca
used the hay to thrive for the cattle, and to whose protection the herds committ
ed their flocks in order to assure them against any kind of injury. In the same
way they had deities for the arts which were connected with the State, e.g., Jun
o Moneta, since coins play an essential part in the regulated life of a communit
y.
When, however, such finite ends as the circumstances and various interests of th
e State and prosperity in what belongs to the physical necessities, the progress
, and material wellbeing of man, are regarded as the highest of all ends ; and w
hen the main concern is for the prosperity and existence of an immediate reality
, which as being such can, in virtue of what constitutes it, be merely a conting
ent reality ; it follows that by way of contrast to what conduces to utility and
prosperity, we have what conduces to injury and failure. So far as regards fini
te ends and circumstances man is dependent ; what he has, or enjoys, or possesse
s, is something having a positive existence, and when he is conscious of some op
posing limit or defect, and that what he has is in the power of another, and whe
n further he finds this negated or denied to him, he has a feeling of dependence
, and the legitimate development of this feeling leads him to revere the power o
f what is injurious and evil, to pray to the devil in fact. We do not at this st
age get to the abstraction called the devil, abstract evil and wickedness in an
absolutely definite form, because here the characteristics are finite, present r
ealities with a limited content. It is only some special form of damage or defec
t which is here an object of fear and is revered. The concrete, which is finite,
is a state, a form of reality which passes away, a kind and mode of Being which
can be conceived of by reflection as an external universal, such as peace (Pax)
, tranquillity (Tranquillitcu), the goddess Vacuna already are, and which receiv
ed a fixed form from the unimaginative Eomans. Such powers, which are partly all
egorical and partly prosaic, are however chiefly and essentially of the kind who
se fundamental character is represented by the ideas of defect and injury. Thus
the Eomans dedicated altars to the plague, to fever (Febris), to care (Angerona)
, and they revered hunger (Fames), and the blight (Robigo) which attacked the gr
ain. In the joyous religion of art, this side of religion which consists of fear
of what brings misfortune, is put into the background ; the infernal powers, wh
ich might be regarded as hostile and powers to be dreaded, are represented by th
e Eumenides who are well disposed towards men.
It is difficult for us to understand how powers of that kind should be honoured
as divine. When we have reached such ideas it is no longer possible to ascribe a
ny definite character to what is Divine, and they can become objective only wher
e the feeling of dependence and fear exists. This state of things represents the
total absence of the Idea in any form, that decay of all truth which can happen
only in such circumstances. Such a phenomenon can be explained only by the fact
that Spirit is wholly shut up within the finite and the immediately useful, as
is evident when we consider how amongst Eomans arts and crafts connected with th
e most immediate needs and their satisfaction, are gods. Spirit has forgotten ev
erything inward and universal connected with thought, it has reached an utterly
prosaic state, and what it aims at, what it seeks to raise itself to is nothing
higher than what is supplied by the wholly formal understanding which puts toget
her into one picture the circumstances, the character and mode of immediate Bein
g, and knows no other mode of substantiality.
When power was thought of as existing in this prosaic condition, and when for th
e Eomans the power which had to do with such finite ends and with immediate, rea
l, and external circumstances, represented the welfare of the Eoman Empire, it w
as no great step to go further and worship as God the actual present Power conne
cted with such ends, the individual present form of such welfare, the Emperor in
 fact, who had this welfare in his hands. The Emperor, this monstrous individual
, was the Power which presided over the, life and happiness of individuals, of c
ities and of states, a power above law. He was a more wide reaching power than R
obigo ; famine, and all kinds of distress of a public character were in his hand
s ; and more than that, rank, birth, wealth, nobility, all these were of his mak
ing. He was the supreme authority even above formal law and justice, upon the de
velopment of. which the Eoman spirit had expended so much energy.
All the special deities, however, are, on the other hand, again brought into sub
jection to the universal, real Power ; they fall into the background before the
universal purely essential power of sovereignty, the greatness of the Empire, wh
ich spreads itself over the whole known civilised world. In this universality th
e destiny of the divine particularisation consists in the necessity there is tha
t the particular divine powers should be disposed of and pass away in this abstr
act universality, just as the individual and divine national spirit of the vario
us peoples is suppressed by being brought under the one sovereign authority. Thi
s comes out also in several practical or empirical features of the Roman spirit,
and in Cicero we find this kind of cold reflection on the gods. Here reflection
is the subjective power above the gods. Cicero institutes a comparison between
their genealogies, their destinies, their actions ; he enumerates many Vulcans,
Apollos, Jupiters, and places them together in order to compare them. This is th
e kind of reflection which institutes comparisons, and in this way gives the hit
herto fixed form belonging to the gods a dubious and vacillating character. The
information which he gives in the treatise J)e Natura Deorum is in other respect
s of the highest importance, e.g., in reference to the origin of myths ; and yet
at the same time the gods are in this way degraded by reflection, definite repr
esentation of them is no longer possible, and the foundation is laid for unbelie
f and mistrust.
If we regard the matter from the other side however, we find that it was a unive
rsal religious necessity and along with it the stifling power of the Roman fate,
which collected the individual gods into a unity. Rome is a Pantheon in which t
he gods stand side by side, and here they mutually extinguish each other and are
made subject to the one Jupiter Capitolinus.
The Romans conquer Magna Grsecia, Egypt, &c., they plunder the temples, and then
we see whole shiploads of gods hurried off to Rome. Rome thus becomes a collect
ion of all religions, of the Greek, Persian, Egyptian, Christian, and Mithra for
ms of worship. This kind of tolerance exists in Rome ; all religious there meet
together and are mixed up. The Romans lay hold of all religions, and the general
result is a state of confusion in which all kinds of worship are jumbled up, an
d the outward form which belongs to art is lost.
C. The character of the worship connected with this religion and its characteris
ation are involved in the foregoing description. God is served for the sake of a
n end and this end is a human one. The content does not start so to speak from G
od, it is not the content of what really is His nature, but on the contrary it s
tarts from man, from something which is a human end.
For this reason the outward form taken by these gods can scarcely be considered
as distinct from the worship paid to them ; for this distinction together with f
ree worship presupposes a truth which has a realised existence, a truth in and f
or self, something which is universal, objective, and truly divine, and which by
means of its content rises above particular subjective necessities and exists o
n its own account, and thus worship is the process in which the individual gets
for himself the enjoyment of his identity with what is universal and in which he
commemorates this identity. Here, however, the interest originates in the subje
ct or individual ; his needs, and the fact that the satisfaction of these depend
s on another, produce piety, and worship is thus the positing of a Power which w
ill relieve him and which exists because of his needs. These gods have thus esse
ntially a subjective root and origin, and they have, as it were, an existence on
ly in the worship paid to them ; they possess substantiality in the festivals th
ough scarcely in the conceptions formed of them. The truth, rather, is that the
effort to overcome the need by the help of the power of the gods, and to get fro
m them the satisfaction of the want and the hope of being able to do this, are m
erely the second part of worship, and the side which is otherwise objective corn
es to be included within the worship itself.
It is thus a religion of dependence and of the feeling of dependence. The domina
nt element in such a feeling of dependence is the absence of freedom. Man knows
that he is free ; but that in which he is in possession of himself is an end whi
ch remains outside of the individual, and this is still more the case with those
particular ends, and it is just in reference to these that the feeling of depen
dence finds a place. Here we have what is essentially superstition, because we a
re concerned with limited finite ends and objects, and those are treated as abso
lute which, so far as their content is concerned, are limited. Superstition, put
generally, consists in giving to fmitude, externality, common immediate reality
as such, the value of power and substantiality. It originates in the sense of o
ppression felt by the spirit, in the feeling of dependence it has in connection
with its ends.
Thus the Eomans were always conscious of a thrill of fear in presence of anythin
g unknown, anything which had no well-defined nature or consciousness. Everywher
e they saw something full of mystery and experienced a vague kind of horror, whi
ch led them to feign the existence of something irrational which was reverenced
as a kind of higher being. The Greeks on the contrary made everything clear, and
constructed a beautiful and brilliant set of myths, which covered all the relat
ions of life and Nature.
Cicero extols the Romans as being the most pious of nations, since in all depart
ments of life they think on the gods, do everything under the sanction of religi
on, and thank the gods for everything. This is as a inatter'of fact actually the
case. This abstract inwardness, this universality of the end, which is the fate
in which the particular separate individual and the morality and humanity of th
e individual are suppressed, and in which they cannot be present in a concrete f
orm and cannot develop this universality, this inwardness is the basis of the Ro
man religion, and consequently since everything is related to this inwardness, r
eligion is in everything. Thus Cicero, in complete accordance with the Roman spi
rit, derives religion from religare, for religion in all its relations has as a
matter of fact become to the Roman something which binds and sways.
But this inwardness, this higher thing, this universal, is at the same time only
form : the subject or content, the end, in fact, of this power is the human end
and is suggested by men. The Romans revere the gods because they make use of th
em and when they make use of them, especially in the crisis of war.
The introduction of new gods takes place in times of difficulty and anxiety or b
ecause of vows. It is distress or trouble which in general constitutes with them
the universal theogony. Connected with this also is the fact that the oracle, t
he Sibylline books are regarded as something divine, by means of which the peopl
e get to know what they should do or what ought to happen if they are to be bene
fited. Arrangements of this sort are in the hands of the State or the magistrate
.
This religion is not at all a political religion in the sense in which all the r
eligions already treated of are, in the sense that the nation has in religion th
e supreme consciousness of its life as a State and of its morality, and is indeb
ted to the gods for the general arrangements connected with the State, such as a
griculture, property, and marriage. In the Roman religion, on the contrary, reve
rence for and gratitude to the gods are closely connected, partly with definite
individual cases, e.g., deliverance from danger, and partly with public authorit
y of all kinds and with state transactions, in a prosaic way, and religious feel
ing is in general mixed up in a finite way with finite ends and with the deliber
ations and resolutions connected with these.
Thus speaking generally the character of empirical particularity is impressed on
necessity ; it is divine, and from a religious feeling which is identical with
superstition there springs up a collection of oracles, auspices, Sibylline Books
, which on the one hand minister to the end aimed at by the State and on the oth
er to particular interests. The individual on the one hand disappears in a unive
rsal element, in sovereignty, Fortuna publica, and on the other human ends are r
egarded as having value in themselves, and the human subject or individual has a
n independent, substantial, and valid standing. It is within these extremes and
within the contradiction involved in them that Roman life moves restlessly about
.
Roman virtue, virtus, consists of that kind of cold patriotism according to whic
h the individual gives himself wholly up to advance anything that is a matter of
state or of sovereignty. The Romans too gave a visible representation of this d
isappearance of the individual in the universal, of this negativitv, and it cons
titutes an essential feature of their religious games.
In a religion which has no doctrine it is by means specially of the representati
ons given in festivals and dramas that the truth concerning the god is brought b
efore the eyes of men. In such a religion dramas have for this reason a wholly d
ifferent importance from what they have with us. lu ancient times their essentia
l object is to bring before the imagination the process of the substantial power
s, the divine life in its movement and action. The adoration of the images of th
e gods, and the worship paid to them are connected with this divine life in its
state of repose or Being, and the movement of the divine life is contained in th
e narratives connected with the gods, in the myth, though it is thought of as ex
isting only for the inner subjective mental representation of the truth. And jus
t as the idea formed of the god in his state of repose comes to fin'd expression
in some work of art, in the manner characteristic of immediate imaginative perc
eption, so, too, the idea formed of divine action comes to be represented extern
ally in the drama. Such a way of representing the god was not indigenous to the
Romans ; it was not something which sprang up on Roman soil and Roman ground ; a
nd thus in adopting what was for them originally foreign, they turned it into so
mething empty, ghastly, horrible as we can see in the case of Seneca without mak
ing the moral divine Idea of it their own. So, too, it was really only the later
Greek comedy which they took to do with, and they gave representations merely o
f vicious scenes, and of private affairs springing out of the relations between
fathers, sons, harlots, and slaves.
Amongst a people thus absorbed in the pursuit of finite ends, it was impossible
that any lofty perception of moral and divine action, any theoretical or intelle
ctual conception of those substantial powers could exist ; and actions which mig
ht be theoretically interesting to them as spectators, although they had no refe
rence to their practical interests, could have for them only an external crude r
eality, or, if they were to move them, a hideous reality.
In Greek drama it was what was spoken that was the main thing ; the persons who
acted retained a calm plastic attitude, and there was none of that mimic art, st
rictly so called, in which the face comes into play, but rather it was the spiri
tual element in the conceptions dramatised which produced the effect desired. Am
ongst the Romans, on the contrary, pantomime was the main thing a form of giving
expression to thoughts, which is not equal in value to the expression -which ca
n be clothed in speech.
The plays which ranked highest consisted, in fact, of nothing but the slaughter
of animals and men, of the shedding of blood in streams, of life and death comba
ts. They represent, as it were, the highest point to which imaginative conceptio
ns could be brought amongst the Eomans. There is in them no moral interest, no t
ragic collision in which misfortune or some ethical element constitutes the esse
ntial part. The spectators, who sought merely for entertainment, did not demand
a representation of a spiritual history, but of one which was real and actual a
history, in fact, which represents the supreme change in what is finite, namely,
barren, natural death a history which is devoid of any substantial element, and
is the quintessence of all that belongs to external life. These plays attained
amongst the Romans such enormous proportions that hundreds of men, from four to
five hundred lions, tigers, elephants, crocodiles were butchered by men who had
to fight with them, and who in turn butchered each other. It is, above all, the
history of cold, unspiritual death which is here brought before men's eyes a dea
th willed in an irrational, arbitrary way, and which serves to feast the eyes of
others. It is necessity, which is purely arbitrary, murder without any substant
ial element or content, and which has only itself for content. It is this and th
is way of representing destiny which occupy the supreme place, the cold fact of
dying, not a natural death, but a death brought about by an exercise of empty ar
bitrary will. It is not produced by some external necessity arising out of certa
in circumstances ; it is not a consequence of the violation of some moral princi
ple. Dying was thus the only virtue which the noble Eoman could practise, and he
shared this virtue with slaves and with criminals who were condemned to death.
What is here pictured to the mind is that cold kind of murder which serves merel
y to feast the eyes upon, the nothingness of human individuality, and the worthl
essness of the individual who has no moral life in himself. It is a picture of h
ollow, empty destiny, which in its relation to men is something contingent, a bl
ind arbitrariness.
Contrasted with this extreme of empty destiny in which the individual disappears
, a destiny which finally found a personal representation in the power of the Em
peror, a power which is arbitrary and takes its own way, unhindered by moral con
siderations, we have the other extreme, the assertion of the worth of the pure p
articularity or separate life of subjectivity.
The power has, that is to say, at the same time an end also, but this power view
ed in one aspect is blind ; Spirit is not yet reconciled to itself, brought into
harmony with itself in it, and both accordingly continue to occupy a one-sided
position in reference to each other. This power is an end, and this end, the hum
an, finite end, is the sovereignty of the world, and the realisation of this end
is the sovereignty of men, of the Romans.
This universal end, taken in its real meaning, has its basis, its seat in self-c
onsciousness, and this means that the independence of self-consciousness is posi
ted, since the end is included within self-consciousness. On the. one side we ha
ve a certain indifference in reference to concrete life, and on the other we hav
e this reserve, this inwardness, which is an inwardness both of the divine natur
e and of the individual, though so far as the individual is concerned, it is a w
holly abstract inwardness.
This explains what is a fundamental feature of Eoman thought, namely, that the a
bstract person, the individual abstractly considered, is held to be of so much a
ccount. The abstract person is the individual regarded legally ; and accordingly
, the development of law, of the essential characteristics of property, is an im
portant feature of the Roman way of regarding things. This law, or right, is lim
ited to juridical law, to the law or rights of property.
There are higher laws or rights ; the human conscience has its law or right, and
this is as much a right as any other ; but the law of morality, the law of ethi
cs is something far higher. Here, however, this right no longer possesses its co
ncrete and proper meaning, the truth rather being that abstract right, the right
of the person, expresses merely what is contained in the definition of property
. It is certainly personality, but it is abstract personality only, subjectivity
in the sense just explained, which is given this lofty place.
These are the fundamental features of this Religion of Utility or Conformity to
an End. There are contained in it moments, the union of which constitutes the es
sential character of the next and last stage of religion. The moments which are
isolated in the religion of outward utility, but which are related to each other
, and consequently are in a condition of contradiction, are, though present here
in an unspiritual form, the moments out of which, when united according to thei
r true nature, arises the essential characteristic of the Religion of Spirit. .
The Boman world forms the supremely important point of transition to the Christi
an religion, the indispensable middle term. It is that side of the Idea represen
ted hy reality, and, together with this, its potentially determinate character,
which are developed at this stage of the religious spirit. At first we saw this
reality held firm in immediate unity with the universal. Now, by giving itself a
definite character, it has come out of the universal and detached itself from i
t, and has thus come to be completely realised externality, concrete individuali
ty, and has consequently reached, in this its alienation carried to the furthest
point, totality in itself. What now remains to be done, and what is necessary i
s, that this particularity or individuality, this determinate determinateness sh
ould be taken back again into the universal, so that it may reach its true deter
mination, strip off the externality from itself, and consequently that the Idea
as such may get its complete determination in itself.
The religion of external conformity to end or utility, viewed according to its i
nner signification, constitutes the closing stage of the finite religions. What
is implied in finite reality is just that the notion of God should be or exist,
that it should be posited, i.e., that this notion or conception should be the tr
uth for self-consciousness, and accordingly should be realised in self-conscious
ness, in its subjective aspect.
It is the notion or conception as thus posited which must develop itself on its
own account until it reaches totality, for only then is it capable of being take
n up into universality. It was this advance of determinateness to the stage of t
otality accordingly which took place in the Roman world, for here the determinat
eness is something concrete and finite, it is particularity, something which is
inherently manifold, external, an actual condition, a kingdom, present objectivi
ty, not beautiful objectivity, and consequently not complete or perfect subjecti
vity. It is through the end, the determinate determinateness, that the determina
teness first returns into itself and is found in subjectivity. At first, however
, it is finite determinateness, and owing to the subjective return into itself,
it is finitude without any measure or standard, the false infinite-fmitude.
This measureless finite has two sides or aspects which we must get to understand
and have a firm grasp of, its potentiality and its empirical manifestation.
If we consider perfect determinateness in its potential form, we see that it is
the absolute form of the Notion, the Notion, namely, in its determinateness, whe
n it has come back into itself. x The Notion is to begin with only the universal
and abstract, the Notion in its potential form and as not yet posited. It is th
e true universal when, by means of particularity, it unites itself with itself,
i.e., when by means of the mediation of particularity, of determinateness, by th
e act of going out of itself, and by the doing away with and absorption of this
particularity, it returns to itself. This negation of the negation is the absolu
te form, the truly infinite subjectivity, the reality in its infinitude.
In the Religion of Utility it is just this infinite form which self-consciousnes
s has come to represent to itself. This absolute form is in a special sense the
characterisation of self-consciousness, the characterisation of Spirit. This is
what constitutes the infinite importance of and necessity for the Roman religion
.
This infinite subjectivity, which is infinite form, is the grand moment which ha
s been gained for Power ; it is what was wanting in the idea of God as Power, in
the God of substantiality. It is true that in Power we had subjectivity, but Po
wer has only single ends, or several single ends, and its end is not yet infinit
e. It is only infinite subjectivity which has an infinite end, i.e., it is itsel
f the end, and it is only inwardness, this subjectivity as such, which is its en
d. This characterisation of Spirit was accordingly gained for thought in the Rom
an world. This absolute form, however, is here still empirical, and appears as a
particular immediate person, and thus what is highest when conceived of in a fi
nite way, is what is worst. The deeper the nature of Spirit and genius, the more
monstrous are their errors. When superficiality errs, its error is correspondin
gly superficial and weak, and it is only what possesses depth in itself that can
become the most evil and the worst. Thus it is this infinite reflection and inf
inite form which, since it is devoid of content and without substantiality, is t
he measureless and unlimited finitude, the limitedness which is itself absolute
in its finitude. It is what appears in another shape in the system of the Sophis
ts as reality, for to them man was the measure of all things, man, that is, rega
rded according to his immediate acts of volition and immediate feeling, from the
point of view of his ends and interests. In the Eoman world we see that this th
inking by man on himself gets an important place, and is elevated to the conditi
on of the Being and consciousness of the world. The act by which thought shuts i
tself up within finitude and particularity means, to begin with, the total disap
pearance of all beautiful, moral life, the falling away from true life into the
infinitude of the desires, into momentary enjoyment and pleasure, and this stage
in the entire shape in which it appears, constitutes a human animalkingdom, fro
m which everything of a higher nature, everything substantial has been removed.
Such a state of lapse into purely finite forms of existence, ends, and interests
, can certainly be maintained only by the inherently measureless authority and d
espotism of a single individual whose means for maintaining this authority is th
e cold unspiritual death of individuals, for only by this means can negation be
brought to bear on them, and only thus can they be kept in a condition of fear.
The despot is one, a real present God, the singleness or individuality of will i
n the form of power exercising authority over all the other infinitely many sing
le individualities.
The Emperor represents the Divinity, the divine essence, the Inner and Universal
as it appears, and is revealed, and is actually present in the form of the sing
leness or particularity of the individual. This individual is the characterisati
on of Power advanced to the state of particularity, the descent of the Idea into
the present, but it is a descent which means the loss on the part of the Idea o
f its inherent universality, of truth, of Being in-aud-for self, and consequentl
y of its divine nature. The universal has taken flight, and the Infinite is impr
essed in such a way on the finite that the finite is the subject of the proposit
ion ; this as something which has a fixed, permanent character, and is not negat
ive, is placed within the Infinite.
This completion of finitude is thus pre-eminently the absolute misery and the ab
solute sorrow of Spirit, it is the opposition of Spirit to Spirit in its most co
mplete form, and this state of opposition is not reduced to a state of reconcili
ation, this contradiction remains unsolved. But Spirit is what thinks, and so if
it has lost itself in this reflection into itself as externality, in its charac
ter as thought it at the same time returns into itself through the loss of itsel
f; it is reflected into itself, and in its depth as infinite form, as subjectivi
ty, but as subjectivity which thinks, and not as immediate subjectivity, it has
placed itself at the highest point which can be reached. In this abstract form i
t appears as philosophy, or speaking generally as the sorrow of virtue, as a lon
ging and seeking for help.
The resolution and reconciliation of the opposing elements is what is everywhere
demanded. This reconciliation becomes possible only when the external finitude,
which has been set free, is taken up into the infinite universality of Thought,
and is in this way purified from its immediacy, and raised to the condition of
what has substantial validity. So, too, this infinite universality of thought wh
ich has no external existence or value of its own must in turn receive a present
reality, and selfconsciousness must at the same time come to be a consciousness
of the reality of universality, so that it may see the Divine to be something w
ith an actual definite existence, something belonging to the world and present i
n the world, and know that God and the world are reconciled.
We have seen how Olympus, that heaven of the gods, that region within which are
found the fairest divine forms that were ever created by fancy, represented at t
he same time a free moral life, a free, though as yet a limited, national spirit
. Greek life was split up into many small states, into those stars which themsel
ves are only limited centres of light. In order that the free condition of Spiri
t may be reached, this state of limitation must be done away with, and the fate
which floats in the distance above the world of the gods and above the national
life must make its true authority felt in them in such a way that the national s
pirit of these free peoples is destroyed. x The free spirit must get to know its
elf as free spirit in the entirety of its nature, free spirit in-andfor self. It
s value no longer consists in its being simply the free spirit of the Greeks, of
the citizens of this or the other state, but rather man must be known to be fre
e as man, and God is thus the God of all men, the all-embracing, universal Spiri
t. This fate, accordingly, which exercises a kind of corrective discipline on th
e particular forms in which freedom shows itself and crushes the limited nationa
l spirit of the various peoples so that the nations apostatise from their gods,
and get to be conscious of their weakness and powerlessness, since their politic
al life is destroyed by the one universal Power was the Roman world and its reli
gion. In this religion of utility or conformity to end, the end was none other t
han the Roman State, which thus represents abstract Power exercising its authori
ty over the national spirit of the various peoples. The gods of all nations are
collected together in the Roman Pantheon, and mutually destroy each other, owing
to their being thus united. The Roman spirit as representing this fate, destroy
ed the happiness and joyousness of the beautiful life and consciousness of the r
eligions which went before, and crushed down all the various forms in which this
consciousness showed itself into a condition of unity and uniformity. It was th
is abstract Power which produced the tremendous misery and the universal sorrow
which existed in the Roman world, a sorrow which was to be the birth-throe of th
e religion of truth. The distinction between free men and slaves disappears in t
he presence of the all-embracing power of the Emperor ; everything permanent, wh
ether existing in an inward or in an outward form, is destroyed, and we are in t
he presence of the death of finitude, since the Fortuna of the one Empire itself
succumbs too.
The true taking up of finitude into the Universal, and the perception of this un
ity, could not have their development within those religious, and could not orig
inate in the Roman and Greek world.
The penitence of the world, the discarding of finitude, and the despair of findi
ng satisfaction in "what was temporal and finite which gained the upper hand in
the spirit of the world, all served to prepare the soil for the true, spiritual
religion, a preparation which had to be completed on the part of man, in order t
hat " the time might be fulfilled." Granting that the principle of Thought was a
lready developed, still the Universal was not yet an object for consciousness in
all its purity, as is evident from the fact that even in philosophical speculat
ion, Thought was united with ordinary externality, as, for instance, when the St
oics made the world originate in fire. The truth is that the reconciliation coul
d appear only amongst a people who possessed the purely abstract idea of the One
for itself, and had completely cast away finitude in order to be able to concei
ve of it again in a purified form. The Oriental principle of pure abstraction ha
d to unite with the finitude and particularity of the West. It was the Jewish na
tion which preserved the idea of God as representing the ancient sorrow of the w
orld. For here we have the religion of abstract sorrow, of the one Lord, and bec
ause of this the reality of life appears relatively to this abstraction and in t
his abstraction, as the infinite wilfulness of self-consciousness, and is at the
same time bound up with the abstraction. The old curse is removed and becomes t
he source of salvation, and this just because finitude has on its part raised it
self to the condition of something positive, has become infinite finitude, and h
as gained for itself a valid existence.

PART III
THE ABSOLUTE RELIGION
WE have now reached the realised notion or conception of religion, the perfect r
eligion, in which it is the notion itself that is its own object. We defined rel
igion as being in the stricter sense the self-consciousness of God. Selfconsciou
sness in its character as consciousness has an object, and it is conscious of it
self in this object ; this object is also consciousness, but it is consciousness
as object, and is consequently finite consciousness, a consciousness which is d
istinct from God, from the Absolute. The element of determinateness is present i
n this form of consciousness, and consequently finitude is present in it; God is
self-consciousness, He knows Himself in a consciousness which is distinct from
Him, which is potentially the consciousness of God, but is also this actually, s
ince it knows its identity with God, an identity which is, however, mediated by
the negation of fiuitude. It is this notion or conception which constitutes the
content of religion. We define God when we say, that He distinguishes Himself fr
om Himself, and is an object for Himself, but that in this distinction He is pur
ely identical with Himself, is in fact Spirit. This notion or conception is now
realised, consciousness knows this content and knows that it is itself absolutel
y interwoven with this content ; in the Notion which is the process of God, it i
s itself a moment. Finite consciousness knows God only to the extent to which Go
d knows Himself in it ; thus God is Spirit, the Spirit of His Church in fact, i.
e., of those who worship Him. This is the perfect religion, the Notion become ob
jective to itself. Here it is revealed what God is ; He is no longer a Being abo
ve and beyond this world, an Unknown, for He has told men what He is, and this n
ot merely in an outward way in history, but in consciousness. We have here, acco
rdingly, the religion of the manifestation of God, since God knows Himself in th
e finite spirit. This simply means that God is revealed. Here this is the essent
ial circumstance. What the transition was we discovered when we saw how this kno
wledge of God as free Spirit was, so far as its substance is concerned, still ti
nged with finitude and immediacy ; this finitude had further to be discarded by
the labour of Spirit ; it is nothingness, and we saw how this nothingness was re
vealed to consciousness. The misery, the sorrow of the world, was the condition,
the preparation on the subjective side for the consciousness of free Spirit, as
the absolutely free and consequently infinite Spirit.
We shall confine ourselves, to begin with (A), to the general aspects of this sp
here of thought.
The Absolute Religion is I. The Revealed Religion. Religion is something reveale
d, it is manifested, only when the notion or conception of religion itself exist
s for itself ; or, to put it differently, religion or the notion of religion has
become objective to itself, not in the form of limited finite objectivity, but
rather in such a way that it is objective to itself in accordance with its notio
n.
This can be expressed in a more definite way by saying that religion, according
to its general conception or notion, is the consciousness of the absolute Essenc
e. It is the nature, however, of consciousness to distinguish, and thus we have
two things, consciousness and absolute Essence. These two at first are in a stat
e of mutual exclusion, standing in a finite relation to each other. We have the
empirical consciousness, and the Essence taken in the sense of something differe
nt.
They stand in a finite relation to each other, and so far they are themselves bo
th finite, and thus consciousness knows the absolute Essence only as something f
inite, not as something true. God is Himself consciousness, He distinguishes Him
self from Himself within Himself, and as consciousness He gives Himself as objec
t for what we call the side of consciousness.
Here we have always two elements in consciousness, which are related to each oth
er in a finite and external fashion. When, however, as is the case at this stage
, religion comes to have a true comprehension of itself, then it is seen that th
e content and the object of religion are made up of this very Whole, of the cons
ciousness which brings itself into relation with its Essence, the knowledge of i
tself as the Essence and of the Essence as itself, i.e., Spirit thus becomes the
object in religion. We thus have two things, consciousness and the object; in t
he religion, however, the fulness of which is the fulness of its own nature, in
the revealed religion, the religion which comprehends itself, it is religion, th
e content itself which is the object, and this object, namely, the Essence which
knows itself, is Spirit. Here first is Spirit as such the object, the content o
f religion, and Spirit is only for Spirit. Since it is content and object, as Sp
irit it is what knows itself, what distinguishes itself from itself, and itself
supplies the other side of subjective consciousness, that which appears as finit
e. It is the religion which derives its fulness from itself, which is complete i
n itself. This is the abstract characterisation of the Idea in this form, or, to
put it otherwise, religion is, as a matter of fact, Idea. For Idea in the philo
sophical sense of the term is the Notion which has itself for object, i.e., it i
s the Notion which has definite existence, reality, objectivity, and which is no
longer anything inner or subjective, but gives itself an objective form. Its ob
jectivity, however, is at the same time its return into itself, or, in so far as
we describe the Notion as End, it is the realised, developed End, which is cons
equently objective.
Religion has just that which it itself is, the consciousness of the Essence, for
its object ; it gets an objective form in it, it actually is, just as, to begin
with, it existed as Notion and only as the Notion, or just as at first it was o
ur Notion. The absolute religion is the revealed religion, the religion which ha
s itself for its content, its fulness.
It is the Christian religion which is the perfect religion, the religion which r
epresents the Being of Spirit in a realised form, or for itself, the religion in
which religion has itself become objective in relation to itself. In it the uni
versal Spirit and the particular spirit, the infinite Spirit and the finite spir
it, are inseparably connected ; it is their absolute identity which constitutes
this religion and is its substance or content. The universal Power is the substa
nce which, since it is potentially quite as much subject as substance, now posit
s this potential being which belongs to it, and in consequence distinguishes its
elf from itself, communicates itself to knowledge, to the finite spirit ; but in
so doing, just because it is a moment in its own development, it remains with i
tself, and in the act of dividing itself up returns undivided to itself.
The object of theology as generally understood is to get to know God as the mere
ly objective God, who is absolutely separated from the subjective consciousness,
and is thus an outward object, just as the sun, the sky, &c., are objects of co
nsciousness, and here the object is permanently characterised as an Other, as so
mething external. In contrast to this the Notion of the absolute religion can be
so presented as to suggest that what we have got to do with is not anything of
this external sort, but religion itself, i.e., the unity of this idea which we c
all God with the conscious subject.
We may regard this as representing also the standpoint of the present day, inasm
uch as people are now concerned with religion, religiousness, and piety, and thu
s do not occupy themselves with the object in religion. Men have various religio
ns, and the main thing is for them to be pious. We cannot know God as object, or
get a real knowledge of Him, and the main thing, what we are really concerned a
bout, is merely the subjective manner of knowing Him and our subjective religiou
s condition. We may recognise this standpoint as described in what has just been
said. It is the standpoint of the age, but at the same time it represents a mos
t important advance by which an infinite moment has had its due value recognised
, for it involves a recognition of the consciousness of the subject as constitut
ing an absolute moment. The same content is seen to exist in both sides, and it
is this potential or true Being of the two sides which is religion. The great ad
vance which marks our time consists in the recognition of subjectivity as an abs
olute moment, and this is therefore essentially determination or characterisatio
n. The whole question, however, turns on how subjectivity is determined or chara
cterised.
On this important advance we have to make the following remarks. When religion i
s determined from the point of view of consciousness, it is so constituted that
the content passes beyond consciousness, and in appearance at least remains some
thing strange or foreign to consciousness. It does not matter what content relig
ion has, this content, regarded solely from the standpoint of consciousness, is
something which exists above and outside of consciousness, and even if we add to
it the peculiar determination of Eevelation, it is nevertheless for us somethin
g given and outward. The result of such a conception of religion is that the Div
ine content is regarded as something given independent of us, as something which
cannot be known but is to be received and kept in a merely passive way in faith
, and on the other hand it lands us in the subjectivity of the feeling which is
the end and the result of the worship of God. The standpoint of consciousness is
therefore not the sole and only standpoint. The devout man sinks himself in his
object, together with his heart, his devotion, and his will, and when he has at
tained to this height of devoutness he has got rid of the sense of separation wh
ich marks the standpoint of consciousness. It is possible also from the standpoi
nt of consciousness to reach this subjectivity, this feeling that the object is
not foreign to consciousness, this absorption of the spirit in those depths whic
h do not represent something distant, but rather absolute nearness and presence.

This doing away with the separation can, however, in turn, be conceived of as so
mething foreign to consciousness, as the grace of God, which man has to acquiesc
e in as something foreign to his own nature, and his relation to which is of a p
assive sort. It is against this separation that the formula is directed which sa
ys that it is with religion as such we have got to do, i.e., with the subjective
consciousness which has in itself what God wills. It is in the -subject accordi
ngly that the inseparability of subjectivity and of the Other or objectivity exi
sts ; or, to put it otherwise, the subject as containing in itself the real rela
tion is an essential element in the whole range of thought. Regarded from this s
tandpoint, the subject is accordingly raised to the rank of an essential charact
eristic. It is in harmony with the freedom of Spirit that it should thus recover
its freedom, that there should be no standpoint at which it is not in company w
ith itself. That it is religion which is objective to itself is a truth which is
contained in the notion or conception of the absolute religion, but only in the
conception. This conception or notion is one thing, and the consciousness of th
is notion is another.
Thus in the absolute religion as well the notion may potentially contain the tru
th referred to, but the consciousness of this is something different. This then
is the phase of thought which has reached consciousness and come to the front in
the formula which says that it is with relijrion we have to do. The Notion is i
tself still one-sided, is taken as merely implicit or potential ; and so it appe
ars in this one-sided shape where subjectivity itself is one-sided ; it has the
characteristic of one of two only, is only infinite form, pure self-consciousnes
s, the pure knowledge of itself, it is potentially without content, because reli
gion as such is conceived of only in its potential character, and is not the rel
igion which is objective to itself, but is only religion in a shape which is not
yet real, which has not yet made itself objective or given itself a content. Wh
at has no objectivity has no content.
It is one of the rights of truth that knowledge should have in religion the abso
lute content. Here, however, what we have is not the content in its true form, b
ut only in a stunted form. Thus there must be a content. The content in the pres
ent case has, as we have seen, the character of something contingent, finite, em
pirical, and consequently we have a state of things similar to what existed in E
oman times. The times of the Roman Emperors resembled ours in many points. The s
ubject as it actually is, is conceived of as infinite ; but as abstract, it chan
ges into the direct opposite, and is merely finite and limited. Its freedom cons
equently is only of the sort which admits the existence of something beyond the
present, an aspiration, a freedom which denies the existence of a distinction in
consciousness, and consequently casts aside the essential moment of Spirit, and
is thus unspiritual subjectivity, subjectivity without thought.
Religion is the knowledge which Spirit has of itself as Spirit; when it takes th
e form of pure knowledge it does not know itself as Spirit, and is consequently
not substantial but subjective knowledge. The fact, however, that it is nothing
more than this, and is therefore limited knowledge, is not apparent to subjectiv
ity in its own form, i.e., in the form or shape of knowledge, but rather it is i
ts immediate potentiality which it finds, to begin with, in itself, and conseque
ntly in the knowledge of itself as being simply the infinite, the feeling of its
finitude and consequently of its infinitude as well, as a kind of potential Bei
ng beyond and above it in contrast to its actual Being, or Being-for-self the fe
eling, in short, of longing after something above and beyond it which is unexpla
ined. f The Absolute Religion, on the other hand, contains the characteristic, t
he note, of subjectivity or infinite form which is equivalent to substance. We m
ay give the name of knowledge, of pure intelligence, to this subjectivity, this
infinite form, this infinite elasticity of substance whereby it breaks itself up
within itself, and makes itself an object for itself. Its content is therefore
a content which is identical with itself, because it is the infinitely substanti
al subjectivity which makes itself both object and content. Then in this content
itself the finite subject is further distinguished from the infinite object. Go
d regarded as Spirit, when He remains above, when He is not present in His Churc
h as a living Spirit, is Himself characterised in a merely one-sided way as obje
ct.*
This is the Notion, it is the Notion of the Idea, of the absolute Idea, and the
reality is now Spirit which exists for Spirit, which has made itself its object,
and this religion is the revealed religion, the religion in which God reveals H
imself. Eevelation means this differentiation of the infinite form, the act of s
elfdetermination, the being for an Other, and this selfmanifestation is of the v
ery essence of Spirit. Spirit which is not revealed is not Spirit. We say that G
od has created the world, and we state this as a fact which has happened once an
d which will not happen again, and we thus ascribe to the event the character of
something which may be or may not be. God, we say, might have revealed Himself
or He might not. The character we ascribe to God's revelation of Himself is that
of something arbitrary, accidental as it were, and not that of something belong
ing to the Notion of God. But God as Spirit is essentially this very self-revela
tion ; He does not create the world once for all, but He is the eternal Creator,
this eternal self-revelation, this actus. This is His Notion, His essential cha
racteristic.
Religion, the revealed religion, Spirit as for Spirit, is as such the Religion o
f Spirit. It is not something which does not open itself out for an Other, which
is an Other merely momentarily. God posits or lays down the Other, and takes it
up again into His eternal movement. Spirit just is what appears to itself or ma
nifests itself ; this constitutes its act, or form of action, and its life ; thi
s is its only act, and it is itself only its act. What does God reveal, in fact,
but just that He is this revelation of Himself? What He reveals is the infinite
form. Absolute subjectivity is determination, and this is the positing or bring
ing into actual existence of distinctions or difference. The positing of the con
tent, what He thus reveals, is that He is the one Power who can make these disti
nctions in Himself. It is His Being to make these distinctions eternally, to tak
e them back and at the same time to remain with Himself, not to go out of Himsel
f. What is revealed, is, that He is for an Other. This is the essential characte
r, the definition, of revelation.
. This religion, which is manifest or revealed to itself, is not only the reveal
ed religion, but the religion which is actually known as a religion which has be
en revealed ; and by this is understood, on the one hand, that it has been revea
led by God, that God has actually communicated the knowledge of Himself to men ;
and, on the other hand, that being a revealed religion, it is a positive religi
on in the sense that it has come to men, and has been given to them from the out
side.
In view of this peculiarity which attaches to the idea of what is positive, it b
ecomes interesting to see what the Positive is. The absolute religion is undoubt
edly a positive religion in the sense that everything which exists for conscious
ness is for it something objective. Everything must come to us in an outward way
. "What belongs to sense is thus something positive, and, to begin with, there i
s nothing so positive as what we have before us in immediate perception.
Everything spiritual, as a matter of fact, comes to us in this way also, as the
spiritual in a finite form, the spiritual in the form of history, and the mode i
n which the spiritual is thus external and externalises itself is likewise posit
ive.
A higher and purer form of the spiritual is found in what is moral, in the laws
of freedom. This, however, is not in its real nature any such outward form of th
e spiritual as has just been referred to, it is not something external or accide
ntal, but expresses the nature of pure Spirit itself. It too, however, comes to
us in an outward way, at first in education, training, definite teaching ; there
its truth or validity is simply given to us, pointed out to us.
And so, too, laws, civil laws, the laws of the State, are something positive ; t
hey come to us, they exist for us, they have authority or validity, they are, no
t in the sense that we can leave them alone or pass by them, but as implying tha
t in this external form of theirs they ought also to exist for -us as something
subjectively essential, subjectively binding.
When we get a grasp of the law that crime should be punished, when we recognise
its validity and find it to be rational, it is not something essential for us in
the sense that it has authority for us only because it is positive, because it
is what it is ; but it has authority for us inwardly as well, for our reason, as
being something essential, because it is also inward and rational.
The fact of its being positive in no way deprives it of its character as somethi
ng rational, as something which is our own. The laws of freedom, when they actua
lly appear, have always a positive side, a side marked by reality, externality,
and contingency. Laws must get a specific character, and into the specification,
into the quality of the punishment, there already enters the element of externa
lity, and still more into the quantity of the punishment.
In the case of punishment the positive element cannot at all be absent it is abs
olutely necessary. This final determination or specification of the immediate is
something positive which is in no sense rational. In the case of punishment, ro
und numbers, for instance, decide the amount ; you cannot find out by reason wha
t is the absolutely just penalty. It is the irrational which is naturally positi
ve. It must get a definite character, and it is characterised in a way which has
nothing rational about it, or which contains nothing rational in it.
It is necessary to regard revealed religion in the following aspect also. Since
in it there is present something historical, something which appears in an outwa
rd form, there is also present in it something positive, something contingent, w
hich may take either one form or another. Thus it occurs in the case of religion
as well, that owing to the externality, the appearance in an outward form which
accompanies it, there is always something positive present.
But we must distinguish between the Positive as such, the abstract Positive, and
the Positive in the form of and as the law of freedom. The law of freedom shoul
d not possess validity or authority because it is actually there, but rather bec
ause it is the essential characteristic of our rational nature itself. It is not
, therefore, anything positive, not anything which simply has validity, if it is
known to be a characteristic of this kind. Pteligion, too, appears in a positiv
e form in all that constitutes its doctrines ; but it is not meant to remain in
this condition, or to be a matter of mere popular ideas or of pure memory.
The positive element connected with the verification of religion consists in the
idea that what is external should establish the truth of a religion, and should
be regarded as the foundation of its truth. Here in this instance the verificat
ion takes the form of something positive as such. There are miracles and evidenc
es which it is held prove the divinity of the person who reveals and prove that
this person has communicated to men certain definite doctrines.
Miracles are changes connected with the world of sense, changes in the material
world which are actually perceived, and this perception is itself connected with
the senses because it has to do with changes in the world of sense. It has been
already remarked in reference to this positive element of miracle, that it undo
ubtedly can produce a kind of verification for the man who is guided by his sens
es ; but this is merely the beginning of verification, an unspiritual kind of ve
rification by which what is spiritual cannot be verified.
The Spiritual, as such, cannot be directly verified or authenticated by what is
unspiritual and connected with sense. The chief thing to be noticed in connectio
n with this view of miracles is that in this way they are put on one side.
The understanding may attempt to explain miracles naturally, and may bring many
plausible arguments against them i.e., it may confine its attention simply to th
e outward fact, to what has happened, and direct its criticism against this. The
essential standpoint of reason in the matter of miracles is that the truth of t
he Spiritual cannot be attested in an outward way ; for what is spiritual is hig
her than what is outward, its truth can be attested only by itself and in itself
, and demonstrated only through itself and in itself. This is what has been call
ed the witness of the Spirit.
This very truth has found expression in the history of religion. Moses performs
miracles before Pharaoh, and the Egyptian sorcerers imitate them, and this very
fact implies that no great value is to be put on them. The main thing, however,
is that Christ Himself says, " Many will come who will do miracles in My name, b
ut I know them not." Here He Himself rejects miracles as a true criterion of tru
th. This is the essential point of view in regard to this question, and we must
hold fast to the principle that the verification of religion by means of miracle
s, as well as the attacking of miracles, belong to a sphere which has no interes
t for us. The Witness of the Spirit is the true witness. *This witness may take
various forms ; it may be indefinite, general, something which is, broadly speak
ing, in harmony with Spirit, and which awakens a deeper response within it. In h
istory all that is noble, lofty, moral, and divine, appeals to us ; our spirit b
ears witness to it. The witness may not be more than this general response, this
assent of the inner life, this sympathy. But it may also be united to intellect
ual grasp, to thought ; and this intellectual grasp, inasmuch as it has no eleme
nt of sense in it, belongs directly to the sphere of thought. It appears in the
form of reasons, distinctions, and such like ; in the form of mental activity, e
xercised along with and according to the specific forms of thought, the categori
es. It may appear in a more matured form or in a less matured form. It may have
the character of something which constitutes the necessary basis of a man's inne
r heart-life, of his spiritual life in general, the presupposition of general fu
ndamental principles which have authoritative value for him and accompany him th
rough life. These maxims don't require to be consciously followed ; rather, they
represent the mode and manner in which his character is formed, the universal e
lement which has got a firm footing in his spirit, and which accordingly is some
thing permanent within his mind and governs him. *Starting from a firm foundatio
n or presupposition of this sort, he can begin to reason logically, to define or
arrange under categories. Here the stages of intellectual advance and the metho
ds of life are of very many kinds, and the needs felt are very various. The high
est need of the human spirit, however, is thought the witness of the Spirit, whi
ch is not present only in the merely responsive form of a kind of primary sympat
hy, nor in that other form according to which such firm foundations and fundamen
tal principles do exist in the spirit, and have reflective thought built upon th
em, firmly based presuppositions from which conclusions can be drawn and deducti
ons made.
The witness of the Spirit in its highest form takes the form of philosophy, acco
rding to which the Notion, purely as such, and without the presence of any presu
pposition, develops the truth out of itself, and we recognise it as developing,
and perceive the necessity of the development in and through the development its
elf.
Belief has often been opposed to Thought in such a way as to imply that we can h
ave no true conviction regarding God and the truths of religion by any other met
hod than that of Thought, and thus the proofs of the existence of God have been
pointed to as supplying the only method by which we can know and be convinced of
the truth.
The witness of the Spirit may, however, be present in manifold and various ways
; we have no right to demand that the truth should in the case of all men be got
at in a philosophical way. The spiritual necessities of men vary according to t
heir culture and free development ; and so, too, the demand, the conviction that
we should believe on authority, varies according to the different stages of dev
elopment reached.
Even miracles have their place here, and it is interesting to observe that they
have been reduced down to this minimum. There, is thus still something positive
present in this form of the witness of the Spirit as well. Sympathy, which is im
mediate certainty, is itself sometiling positive in virtue of its immediacy, and
the process of inference which starts from something laid down or given has a s
imilar basis. It is man only who has a religion, and religion has its seat and i
ts soil in thought. Heart or feeling is not the heart or feeling of an animal, b
ut the heart of thinking man, a thinking heart, or feeling ; and what shows itse
lf in the heart as the feeling for religion, exists in the thinking element of t
he heart, or feeling. In so far as we begin to draw conclusions, to draw inferen
ces, to suggest reasons,' to advance to thought determinations or categories of
thought, we do this always by the exercise of thought.
Inasmuch as the doctrines of the Christian religion are found in the Bible, they
are given in a positive way ; and if they become subjective, if the Spirit bear
s witness to their truth, this can happen only in a purely immediate way, by a m
an's inner nature, his spirit, his thought, his reason being impressed with thei
r truth and assenting to it. Thus, for the Christian it is the Bible which is th
is basis, the fundamental basis, and which has upon him the effect referred to,
which touches a chord in his heart, and gives firmness to his convictions.
We get a stage further, however, when it is seen that just because he is a think
ing being he cannot rest in this state of immediate consent or witnessing to tru
th, but turns it over by thinking, meditating, and reflecting upon it. This acco
rdingly leads to a further development in religion ; and in its highest and most
developed form it is theology, scientific religion ; it is this content of reli
gion known in a scientific way as the witness of Spirit.
But here a principle which is the opposite of this comes in, and which is expres
sed by saying that we should simply keep to the Bible. Looked at in one aspect,
that is a perfectly correct principle. There are people who are very religious,
who do nothing but read the Bible and repeat sayings out of it, and whose piety
and religious feeling are of a lofty kind, but they are not theologians ; religi
on does not, so far, take with them a scientific form, the form of theology. Gb'
tze, the Lutheran zealot, had a celebrated collection of Bibles ; the devil, too
, quotes the Bible, but that by no means makes the theologian.
As soon, however, as this ceases to be simply the reading and repetition of pass
ages, as soon as what is called explanation begins, as soon as an attempt is mad
e by reasoning and exegesis to find out the meaning of what is in the Bible, the
n we pass into the region of inference, reflection, and thought, and then the qu
estion comes to be as to whether our thinking is correct or not, and as to hoio
we exercise this power of thought.
It is of no use to say that these particular thoughts or these principles are ba
sed on the Bible. As soon as they cease to be anything more than the mere words
of the Bible, a definite form is given to what constitutes them, to their conten
t ; this content gets a logical form, or, to put it otherwise, certain presuppos
itions are formed in connection with this content, and we approach the explanati
on of the passages with these presuppositions which represent the permanent elem
ent so far as the explanation is concerned. We bring with us certain ideas which
guide us in the explanation given. The explanation of the Bible exhibits the su
bstance or content of the Bible in the form or style of thought belonging to eac
h particular age. The explanation which was first given was wholly different fro
m that given now.
These presuppositions consist, for instance, of such an idea as this, that man i
s naturally good, or that we cannot know God. Consider how any one with such pre
conceived ideas in his mind must distort the Bible. Yet people bring such ideas
to the interpretation of the Bible, although the Christian religion just means t
hat we know God, and is just the religion in which God has revealed Himself and
has shown what He is.
Thus here again the positive element may enter in in another form, and in this c
onnection it is a matter of great importance to determine whether this content,
these ideas and principles, are true or not.
It is no longer the Bible which we have here, but the words as these have been c
onceived of within the mind or spirit. If the spirit gives expression to them, t
hen they have already a form got from the spirit, the form of thought. It is nec
essary to examine this form which is thus given to the content of these words. H
ere again the positive element comes in. In this connection it means, for instan
ce, that the existence of the formal logic of syllogistic reasoning, of the rela
tions of thought belonging to what is finite, has been presupposed.
According to the ordinary view of the nature of reasoning, it is only what is fi
nite, only what may be grasped by the understanding, that can be conceived of an
d known. Reason, as ordinarily understood, is not adequate to deal with a divine
element or content. Thus this content is rendered totally useless.
As soon as theology ceases to be a rehearsal of what is in the Bible, and goes b
eyond the words of the Bible, and concerns itself with the character of the feel
ings within the heart, it employs forms of thought and passes into thought. If,
however, it uses these forms in a haphazard way so that it has presuppositions a
nd preconceived ideas, then its use of them is of an accidental and arbitrary ki
nd, and it is the examination of these forms of thought which alone makes philos
ophy.
When theology turns against philosophy, it is either not conscious that it uses
such forms, that it thinks itself, and that its main concern is to advance in ac
cordance with thought, or else its opposition is not seriously meant, but is sim
ply deception ; it wishes to reserve for itself the right to think as it chooses
, to indulge in thinking which does not follow laws and which is here the positi
ve element.
The recognition of the true nature of thought lessens the value of this arbitrar
y kind of thought. This sort of thought, which is a matter of choice and does no
t follow strict laws, is the positive element which comes in here. It is only th
e Notion in its true nature, the Notion for itself, which truly frees itself abs
olutely from this positive element, for both in philosophy and religion freedom
in its highest form is thought itself as such.
The doctrine or content also takes on the form of something positive ; it is som
ething having a valid existence, and it passes as such in society. All law, all
that is rational, and in general all that has true value or validity, takes the
form of something which exists or is possessed of being, and as such it is for e
ach one something essential, something having true value or validity. This, howe
ver, is merely the form in which what is positive appears ; the content or subst
ance must be constituted by the true Spirit.
The Bible represents the Positive in this form ; but it is one of its own saying
s, that the letter killeth, while the spirit giveth life ; and here the importan
t point is the kind of spirit which is brought into connection with the letter,
what kind of spirit gives life to the word. We must know that we bring with us a
concrete spirit, a thinking, reflecting, or feeling spirit, and we must have a
consciousness of the presence of this spirit which is active and forms a concept
ion of the content before it.
This act of apprehending or forming a conception is not a passive reception of s
omething into the mind, but, on the contrary, just because the spirit forms a co
nception, this conceiving of something is at the same time u manifestation of it
s activity. It is only in the mechanical sphere that one of the sides remains pa
ssive in connection with the process of reception. Thus Spirit plays a part here
, and this spirit has its ideas and conceptions, it is a logical Essence, a form
of thinking activity, and the spirit must know this activity. Thought in this f
orm, however, can also pass into the various categories of fiuitude. It is Spiri
t which after this fashion starts from what is positive but is essentially in it
 ; it must be the true, right spirit, the Holy Spirit which apprehends and knows
the Divine, and which apprehends and knows this content as divine. This is the
witness of the Spirit, and it may have a more or less developed form.
The main thing, therefore, so far as the Positive is concerned, is that Spirit o
ccupies a thinking relation to things, that it appears in an active form in the
categories or specific forms of thought, that Spirit is active here and may take
the shape of feeling, reasoning, &c. Some don't know this, and are not consciou
s when they have impressions that they are active in receiving them.
Many theologians, while treating their subject exegetically, and as they imagine
taking up a purely receptive attitude to what is in the Bible, are not aware th
at they are at the same time thinking actively and reflecting. Since this kind o
f thinking is accidental, governed by no necessary laws, it yields itself up to
the guidance of the categories of finitude, and is consequently incapable of gra
sping the divine element in the content ; it is not the divine but the human spi
rit which is actively present in such categories.
It is owing to this finite way of conceiving of the Divine, of what has full and
complete Being, what is in and for itself, and to this finite way of thinking o
f the absolute content, that the fundamental doctrines of Christianity have for
the most part disappeared from Dogmatics. At the present time it is philosophy w
hich is not only orthodox, but orthodox par excellence; and it is it which maint
ains and preserves the principles which have always held good, the fundamental t
ruths of Christianity.
In treating of this religion we do not go to work historically after the fashion
of that form of mental action which starts from what is outward, but, on the co
ntrary, we start from the Notion. That form of activity which starts from what i
s outward takes the shape of something which apprehends or receives impressions
only when we look at it in one of its two aspects, while looked at in the other
it is activity.
Our attitude here is essentially an attitude of activity of this kind ; we are,
in fact, conscious that we are thinking on thought itself, on the course taken b
y the categories of thought, a kind of thinking which has tested itself and know
s itself, which knows how it thinks, and knows which are the finite and which th
e true categories of thought. That, regarding the matter from the other point of
view, we start from what is positive, is true in reference to education, and is
even necessary ; but here we must abandon this mode of procedure in so far as w
e employ the scientific method.
. The absolute religion is thus the religion of Truth and Freedom. For truth mea
ns that the mind does not take up such an attitude to the objective as would imp
ly that this is something foreign to it. Freedom brings out the real meaning of
truth, and gives it a specific character by means of negation. Spirit is for Spi
rit ; that expresses its nature, and it is thus its own presupposition. We start
with Spirit as subject, it is identical with itself, it is the eternal percepti
on of itself, and it is at the same time conceived of only as a result, as the e
nd of a process. It is the presupposition of itself, and it is at the same time
the result, and it exists only as the end of a process. This is truth, this cond
ition of being adequate, of being object and subject. The fact that it is itself
the object makes it the reality, the Notion, the Idea, and it is this which mak
es the Truth. So, too, it is the religion of freedom. Freedom considered abstrac
tly means that the mind is related to something objective which is not regarded
as foreign to its nature, its essential character is the same as that of truth,
only that in the case of freedom the negation of the difference of Otherness has
been done away with and absorbed in something higher, and thus it appears in th
e form of Reconciliation. Eeconciliation starts from the fact that there are dif
ferent forms of existence which stand to each other in a relation of opposition,
 namely, God, who has opposed to Him an estranged world, and a world which is es
tranged from its own essential Being. Eeconciliation is the negation of this sep
aration, of this division ; it means that each recognises itself, finds itself a
nd its essential nature, in the other. Reconciliation is thus freedom ; but it i
s not something in a state of repose, something which simply is ; on the contrar
y, it is activity. All that wemean by reconciliation, truth, freedom, represents
a universal process, and cannot therefore be expressed in a single proposition
without becoming one-sided. The main idea which in a popular form expresses the
truth, is that of the unity of the divine and human natures ; God has become Man
. This unity is at first potential only, but being such it has to be eternally p
roduced or brought into actual existence ; and this act of production is the fre
eing process, the reconciliation which in fact is possible only by means of the
potentiality. The Substance which is identical with itself is this unity, which
as such is the basis, but which as subjectivity is what eternally produces itsel
f.
The final result of the whole of philosophy is that this Idea only is the absolu
te truth. In its pure form it is the logical result, but it is likewise the resu
lt of a study of the concrete world. What constitutes the truth is that Nature,
life, Spirit, are thoroughly organic, that each separate thing is merely the mir
ror of this Idea, in such a way that the Idea exhibits itself in it as in someth
ing isolated, as a process in it, and thus it manifests this unity in itself.
The Religion of Nature is the religion which occupies the standpoint of consciou
sness only. This standpoint is to be found in the Absolute Religion as well, but
it exists within it only as a transitory moment. In the Religion of Nature God
is represented as an " Other," as present in a natural shape ; or, to put it oth
erwise, religion appears in the form merely of consciousness. The second form wa
s that of the spiritual religion, of Spirit which does not get beyond finite cha
racterisation. So far it is the religion of self-consciousness, that is, of abso
lute power, of necessity in the sense which we have given to these terms. The On
e, the Power, is something defective, because it is abstract Power only, and is
not iu virtue of its content absolute subjectivity, but is only abstract necessi
ty, abstract, simple, undifferentiated Being. The condition of abstraction in wh
ich the Power and the necessity are conceived of as still existing at this stage
, constitutes their, finitude, and it is the particular powers, namely, the gods
who when characterised in accordance with their spiritual content first make to
tality, since they add a real content to that abstraction. Lastly, we have the t
hird form of religion, the religion of freedom, of self-consciousness, which, ho
wever, is at the same time a consciousness of the all-embracing reality which co
nstitutes the determirtateness of the eternal Idea of God Himself, and a conscio
usness which does not go outside of itself, which remains beside itself in this
objectivity. Freedom is the essential characteristic of selfconsciousness.
B. THE METAPHYSICAL NOTION OR CONCEPTION OF THE IDEA OF GOD.
The metaphysical notion of God here means that we have to speak only of the pure
Notion which is real through its own self. And thus the determination or defini
tion of God here is that He is the Absolute Idea, i.e., that He is Spirit. Spiri
t, however, or the Absolute Idea, is what appears simply as the unity of the Not
ion and reality in such a way that the Notion in itself represents totality, whi
le the reality does the same. This reality, however, is Ptevelation, actual mani
festation, manifestation which is for self. Since manifestation, too, has in its
elf the moment of difference, it contains the note or characteristic of finite S
pirit, of human nature, which being finite stands opposed to the Notion above me
ntioned. Since, however, we call the Absolute Notion the divine nature, the Idea
of Spirit means the unity of divine and human nature. But the divine nature its
elf is merely something which is to be Absolute Spirit, and thus it is just the
unity of divine and human nature which is itself the Absolute Spirit. The truth,
however, cannot be expressed in a single proposition. The absolute Notion and t
he Idea as the absolute unity of their reality, are different the one from the o
ther. Spirit is accordingly the living Process by which the implicit unity of th
e divine and human natures becomes actual and comes to have a definite existence
. Thus the abstract character or description of this Idea is the unity of the No
tion with Eeality. One of the Proofs of the Existence of God takes the form of a
proof which represents this transition or mediation according to which the Bein
g of God follows from the notion or conception of God. It is to be observed that
in the case of the other proofs we started from finite Being as representing so
mething immediate, and inferred from its existence the existence. of the Infinit
e, or true Being, which appeared in the form of infinitude, necessity, absolute
power which is at the same time wisdom and has ends within itself. Here, on the
contrary, we start from the notion or conception, and go on to Being. Both metho
ds are necessary, and it is necessary to point out the existence of this unity,
since we may start from either side with equal propriety, for it is the identity
of the two which is the truth. The Notion as well as Being, the world, the fini
te, are equally one-sided determinations, each of which changes round into the o
ther, and appears at one time as a moment without independence, and at another a
s producing the other determination which it carries within itself. Their truth
is to be found in the Idea only, i.e., both are to be regarded as things posited
, as dependent for their existence on something else. Neither of the two can be
characterised simply as something which continues to begin or is permanently ori
ginal, but must show itself in the character of something which passes over into
the other, i.e., it must show itself to be something posited. This transition h
as two opposite meanings, each is represented as a moment, i.e., as something wh
ich passes over from immediacy to the Other, so that each is something posited.
On the other hand, it has the signification also of something which produces the
Other, inasmuch as it posits the Other, or brings it forward into actual existe
nce. Tims one of these two elements represents movement ; but so, too, does the
other.
If, accordingly, the transition to Being is to be exhibited in the Notion, it is
necessary to point out, to begin with, that the characterisation or determinati
on we call Being is of an utterly poor kind. It is abstract equality with self,
that last form of abstraction which is indeed affirmation, but affirmation in it
s most abstract form, purely indeterminate, characterless immediacy. If there we
re nothing more in the Notion it would be necessary to put into it at least this
most extreme form of abstraction, namely, that the Notion is. Even when it is d
efined simply as infinitude, or with a more concrete meaning as the unity of the
Universal and the Particular, as universality which particularises itself and t
hus returns into itself, this negation of the negative, this reference to self,
is Being taken in a purely abstract sense. This identity with self, this charact
erisation just described, is directly contained in the Notion as an essential el
ement.
Still it is necessary to state that the transition from the Notion to Being has
a rich and varied character, and contains what most deeply concerns reason. The
understanding of this relation between the Notion and Being is something, too, w
hich very specially concerns our time. We must indicate more definitely the reas
on why. this transition possesses such an interest for us. The appearance of thi
s state of contrast or opposition is a sign that subjectivity has reached the fu
rthest point of its Being for self or independent Being, and has arrived at the
condition of Totality, in which it knows itself as infinite and absolute in itse
lf. The essential characteristic of revealed religion appears in the form of som
ething by means of which Substance is Spirit. Of the two opposite sides one is r
epresented by the subject itself which is the realisation of the Idea taken in i
ts concrete meaning. The reason why this opposition seems so hard to overcome an
d seems to be infinite is that this particular side or aspect of reality, the si
de of subjectivity, the finite spirit in itself, has reached the point at which
it is able to comprehend its infinity. It is only when the subject is a totality
, when it has attained to this inner freedom, that it is Being ; but then it is
also the case that Being in this form is indifferent relatively to this subject,
the subject is for itself, and Being stands above it as an Other which is indif
ferent to it. It is this which more particularly constitutes the reason why the
opposition can appear to be of an intinite kind, and it is because of this and a
s an immediate result of this that there exists in all that has life an impulse
to reconcile the opposing elements. The demand that these opposing elements shou
ld be reconciled is directly involved in the totality which belongs to them ; bu
t the abolition of the opposition has become infinitely difficult, because the o
pposition is of such an infinite kind, and because the Other is so entirely free
, being something which exists in another sphere, in a sphere beyond.
Thus the grandeur of the standpoint of the modern world consists in this going d
own of the subject into itself whereby the finite knows itself to be the Infinit
e and is yet hampered witli the antithesis or opposition which it is forced to s
olve. For the Infinite has an Infinite opposed to it, and thus the Infinite itse
lf takes on the form of something finite, so that the subject, because of its in
finitude, is driven to do away with tins antithesis or opposition which is just
what has so deepened it as to make it realise its infinitude. The antithesis con
sists in this, that I am subject, free, a person existing for myself, and theref
ore I leave the Other free as something which is in another sphere and remains t
here. The ancients did not attain to a consciousness of this antithesis or divis
ion, which can be tolerated only by Spirit when it exists for itself. Spirit, in
fact, simply means that which comprehends itself in an infinite way in antithes
is or opposition. Our present standpoint implies that we have on the one side th
e notion of God, and on the other Being as opposed to the Notion. What according
ly is demanded is the reconciliation of the two in such a way that the Notion wi
ll force itself to take on the form of Being, or that the nature of Being will b
e deduced from the Notion and the Other, the antithesis or contrasted element wi
ll proceed out of the Notion. It is necessary to explain briefly the mode and ma
nner in which this takes place, as also the forms of the understanding which bel
ong to it.
The form in which this mediation appears is that of the Ontological Proof of the
existence of God, in which we start from the Notion. What then is the notion of
God ? It is the most real of all things, it is to be conceived of affirmatively
only, it is determined in itself, its content has no limitation, it is all real
ity, and only as reality is it without limit, and consequently all that really r
emains outside of it is a dead abstraction, as has been already remarked. The po
ssibility of this Notion, i.e., its identity having in it no element of contradi
ction, is exhibited in the form proper to the Understanding. The second point is
involved in the statement, Being is a reality, Non-being is negation, defect, s
imply the opposite of Being. The third point consists of the conclusion, Being i
s therefore realit}", and this belongs to the notion or conception of God.
The objections, brought by Kant against this mode of reasoning amount to an anni
hilation of the Proof, and their correctness has come to be taken for granted. K
ant tells us that the Being of God cannot be got out of the notion or conception
of God, for Being is something different from the Notion ; we distinguish betwe
en the two, they are mutually opposed, and thus the Notion cannot contain Being,
which is something outside of it and beyond it. He says further, that Being is
not in any sense reality, it is to God that all reality is to be attributed, con
sequently Being is not contained in the notion of God, and thus it does not stan
d for any specific content or determination of content, but, on the contrary, is
pure Form. I may imagine I have a hundred thalers, or may actually possess them
, but in either case the thalers are not altered, and consequently the content i
s always the same whether I have them or not. Kant thus understands by the conte
nt what constitutes the notion or conception, although the meaning attached to t
he latter is not what is usually implied in the Notion. We may certainly put it
so, if by the Notion we understand the determination of the content, and make a
distinction between the content and the form which contains the thought, and, on
 the other side, Being. In this way all content is referred to the Notion, and a
ll that is left to the other side is simply the characteristic of Being. Put sho
rtly, it amounts to saying that the Notion is not Being, but that the two are di
fferent. We cannot understand anything about God, or get any knowledge of Him ;
we can, it is true, form notions or conceptions about Him, but this by no means
implies that there is anything actually corresponding to these notions.
As a matter of fact, we know that it is possible to build castles in the air, wh
ich, all the same, don't exist. Kant thus appeals to popular ideas so far, and i
n this way he has, in the general judgment, annihilated the Ontological Proof, a
nd has won great applause for himself. Anselm of Canterbury, a thoroughly learne
d theologian, presented the Proof in the following form. God is the most perfect
of all existences, the substance of all reality ; but if God is simply an idea,
a subjective idea, then He is not the most perfect of beings, for we only regar
d as perfect something which we do not merely picture to ourselves by an idea, b
ut which has in addition Being. This is perfectly correct, and it contains a pre
supposition which everybody has in his iniiid, namely, that what is merely repre
sented in the form of a mental picture is imperfect, and that that alone is perf
ect which has reality as well, that that only is true which exists just as reall
y as it is thought of. God is thus the most perfect of beings, and must therefor
e be as truly real and truly exist as He is conception or notion. But it is furt
her implied in the idea, as thus understood, that the ordinary idea and the noti
on are different, and consequently we get the idea that what is merely pictured
to the mind as an idea is imperfect, while God, again, is the most perfect of be
ings. Kant does not demonstrate the difference between notion or conception and
Being; it is understood in a popular sense, its truth is granted, but the health
y human understanding forms pictorial ideas only in connection with imperfect th
ings.
Anselm's proof, as well as the form given to it in the Ontological Proof, contai
ns the thought that God is the substance of all reality, and consequently contai
ns Being as well. This is perfectly correct. Being is such a poor characteristic
or quality that it directly attaches to the Notion. The other point is that Bei
ng and Notion are also different from each other. Being and Thought, ideality an
d reality, are different from and opposed to each other ; the true difference is
opposition as well, and this contrast is to be done away with, and the unity of
the two characteristics is to be exhibited in such a way that it will be seen t
o be what results from the negation of the contrast. Being is contained in the N
otion. This reality when it is unlimited gives us only empty words, empty abstra
ctions. Tims it has to be shown that the characteristic or quality of Being is a
ffirmatively contained in the Notion, and so we get the unity of the Notion and
Being.
They are, however, different, too, and thus their unity is the negative unity of
both, and what we are concerned with is the abolition of the difference. The di
fference must be discussed, and the existence of the unity must be established a
nd exhibited in accordance with this difference. It belongs to logic to exhibit
the unity in this way that the Notion is this movement according to which it cha
racterises itself and takes on the form of Being, and that this dialectic, this
movement in accordance with which the Notion gives itself the characteristics of
Being, of its opposite, and which we may call the logical element, is a further
development of thought which is accordingly not found in the Ontolopical Proof.
It is this which constitutes the defect of the latter.
As regards the form of Anselm's thought, it has been remarked that it is implied
in the content that the notion or conception of God presupposes reality, becaus
e God is the most perfect of beings. The real point is that the notion gives its
elf an objective form on its own account ; but God is thus the most perfect of b
eings only in idea, or popular thought. It is when measured with the idea of the
most perfect being that the bare conception of God appears defective. The conce
ption of perfection is the standard, and thus it is seen that God as simply noti
on or thought does not come up to this standard.
Perfection is a merely indeterminate idea. What is really meant when anything is
called perfect ? The essential quality of the perfect may be directly seen in s
omething which is the opposite of that to which it is here applied, that is to s
ay, imperfection represents merely the thought of God, and thus perfection is th
e unity of thought or the Notion with reality, and this unity is therefore presu
pposed or pre-posited here. In that God is posited as the Most Perfect. He has h
ere no further determination or characterisation, He is the perfect one only, He
exists only as such, and this represents His determinate character. It is clear
from this that the real point is only this unity of the Notion and reality. Thi
s unity is the characteristic of perfection and at the same time of the Godhead
itself, and it is in fact the characteristic of the Idea too. It certainly, howe
ver, belongs still more to the determination of God.
The presupposition which really underlies the Notion, as it was understood by An
selm, is that of the unity of the Notion and reality, and thus we see why this p
roof cannot satisfy reason, because it is just this very presupposition that is
in question. The view according to which the Notion determines itself in itself,
gives itself an objective form or realises itself, is one which is reached late
r, and proceeds from the nature of the Notion itself, and cannot exist apart fro
m this. This is the view which raises the question as to how far the Notion can
itself do away with its one-sidedness.
If we compare this view with that which belongs to our own day, and which in a v
ery special sense originated with Kant, it may be put thus : Man thinks, perceiv
es, wills, and his acts of will are connected with his acts of thought, he both
thinks and forms conceptions, and is a being both with a concrete sense nature a
nd a rational nature. Then, further, the notion of God, the Idea, the Infinite,
the Unlimited, is, according to this view, a notion merely which we construct ;
but we must not forget that it is only a notion which exists in our heads. Why i
s it said that it is only a notion ? The notion is something imperfect since tho
ught is only one quality, one form of human activity amongst others, i.e., we me
asure the notion by the reality which we have actually before us in concrete ind
ividuals. Man is certainly not merely a thinking being ; he is a being with a se
nse nature as well, and may have sense objects even in his thought. This is, in
fact, merely the subjective element in the notion. We find it to be imperfect on
account of the standard applied to it, because this standard is the concrete ma
n. It might be said that we declare the Notion to be nothing more than a notion,
and what is perceived by the senses to be reality, and assert that reality mean
s what we see, feel, or perceive in sensation. This might possibly be maintained
, and there are many who do maintain this, and who recognise nothing as reality
unless what is felt or tasted ; only it is not conceivable that men should fall
so low as to ascribe reality only to what is perceived by the senses, and not to
what is spiritual. It is the concrete total subjectivity of man which is floati
ng before the mind, and which is taken as the standard, measured by which the gr
asping of things in the Notion is nothing more than a forming of notions or conc
eptions.
If, accordingly, we compare the two views that of Anselm, and that which belongs
to the present time we see that what they have in common is that both make pres
uppositions. Anselm presupposes indeterminate perfection, the modern view the co
ncrete subjectivity of men in general. As compared with that perfection, and, on
the other hand, as compared with that empirical and concrete subjectivity, the
Notion appears to be something one-sided and unsatisfying. In Anselm's view, the
characteristic of perfection really means, too, that it is the unity of the Not
ion and reality. With Descartes and Spinoza, too, God is the First, the absolute
unity of thought and Being, cogito, ergo sum, the absolute Substance ; and this
is also the view of Leibnitz. What we thus have on one side is a presupposition
, which is in reality something concrete, the unity of subject and object, and j
udged by this the Notion seems to be defective. According to the modern view, we
must hold to the thought that the Notion is merely the Notion, and does not cor
respond to the concrete. Anselm, on the other hand, tells us that we must abando
n the thought of regarding the subjective notion as something fixed and independ
ent, and that, on the contrary, we must start from its one-sidedness. Both views
have this in common, that they contain presuppositions, and what is distinctive
in each is that the modern world makes the concrete the basis, while, according
to Anselm's view the metaphysical view on the other hand, it is absolute though
t, the absolute Idea which is the unity of the Notion and reality, that forms th
e basis. This old view is, so far, superior, inasmuch as it does not take the co
ncrete in the sense of empirical men, empirical reality, but as thought ; and it
is superior to the other also, because it does not keep to the idea of somethin
g imperfect. In the modern view the contradiction between the concrete and what
is only notion or conception is not solved ; the subjective notion exists, it ha
s a real value, it must be considered as subjective, it is what is real. Thus th
e older point of view is greatly to be preferred, because its keynote rests on t
he Idea. The modern view, again, has one characteristic of a broader kind, since
it represents the concrete as the unity of the Notion and of reality ; while, i
n contrast to this, the older view does not get beyond an abstraction of perfect
ion.

END OF VOL. II.

______________________
LECTURES ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION III

PART III

THE ABSOLUTE RELIGION

C. The division of the subject

I. God in His eternal Idea in-and-for-self ; the kingdom of the Father
. Determination in the element of thought
2. Absolute diremption
3. Trinity
II. The eternal Idea of God in the element of consciousness and ordinary thought
, or difference ; the kingdom of the Son
. The positing of the difference
2. The world
3. The essential nature of Man
III. The Idea in the element of the-Church or Spiritual
Community ; the kingdom of the Spirit
a. The conception of the Spiritual Community
b. The realisation of the Spiritual Community
c. The realisation of the spiritual in universal reality
LECTURES ON THE PROOFS OF THE EXISTENCE OF GOD
LECTURES ONE to SIXTEEN
AMPLIFICATION OF THE TELEOLOGICAL PROOF
AMPLIFICATION OF THE TELEOLOGICAL AND ONTOLOGICAL PROOFS
AMPLIFICATION OF THE ONTOLOGICAL PROOF

_________________

PART III

THE ABSOLUTE RELIGION (continued)

C. THE DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT.

I. The absolute, eternal Idea is, in its essential existence, in and for itself,
God in His eternity before the creation of the world, and outside of the world.

II. The Creation of the World. What is thus created, this otherness or other-Bei
ng, divides up within itself into two sides, physical Nature and finite Spirit.
What is thus created is therefore an Other, and is placed at first outside of Go
d. It belongs to God's essential nature, however, to reconcile to Himself this s
omething which is foreign to Him, this special or particular element which comes
into existence as something separated from Him, just as it is the nature of the
Idea which has separated itself from itself and fallen away from itself, to bri
ng itself back from this lapse to its truth or true state.
III. It is the way or process of reconciliation whereby Spirit unites and brings
into harmony with itself what it distinguished from itself in the state of dire
mption and differentiation, and thus Spirit is the Holy Spirit, the Spirit is pr
esent in its Church.
Thus the distinctions we make are not made in an external fashion ; but, on the
contrary, the action, the developed life-force of the Absolute Spirit, is itself
an eternal life ; it is a development and a carrying back of this development i
nto itself.
Put more definitely, what is involved in this idea is that the universal Spirit,
the Whole which this Spirit is, posits itself together with its three character
istics or determinations, develops itself, realises itself, and that only at the
end we have in a completed form what constitutes at the same time its presuppos
ition. It exists at first as a Whole, it pre-posits or presupposes itself, and e
xists likewise only at the end. Spirit has thus to be considered in the three fo
rms or elements in which it posits itself.
The three forms indicated are : eternal Being in and with itself, the form of Un
iversality ; the form of manifestation or appearance, that of Particularisation,
Being for another ; the form of the return from appearance into itself, absolut
e Singleness or individuality.
The divine Idea unfolds itself in these three forms. Spirit is divine history, t
he process of self-differentiation, of separation or diremption, and of the resu
mption of this ; it is divine history, and this history is to be considered in e
ach of these three forms.
Considered in relation to the subjective consciousness, they may further be denn
ed as follows. The first form is the element of thought. In pure thought God is
as He is in-and-for-Himself, is revealed, but He has not yet reached the stage o
f manifestation or appearance, He is God in His eternal essence, God abiding wit
h Himself and yet revealed. According to the second form He exists in the elemen
t of the popular or figurative idea, in the element of particularisation. Consci
ousness here takes up an attitude of reserve in reference to the " Other," and t
his represents the stage of appearance or manifestation. The third element is th
at of subjectivity as such. This subjectivity is partly immediate, and takes the
form of feeling, idea, sentiment ; but it is also partly subjectivity which rep
resents the Notion, thinking reason, the thought of free Spirit, which is free o
nly when it returns into itself.
As regards place or space, the three forms, since they appear as development and
history in different places, so to speak, are to be explained as follows. The d
ivine history in its first form takes place outside of the world, outside of fin
itude where there is no space, representing God as He is in His essential being
or in-and-for-Himself. The second form is represented by the divine history in a
real shape in the world, God in definite completed existence. The third stage i
s represented by the inner place, the Spiritual Community, existing at first in
the world, but at the same time raising itself up to heaven, and which as a Chur
ch already has Him in itself here on earth, full of grace, active and present in
the world.
It is also possible to characterise the three elements, and to distinguish them
in accordance with the note of Time. In the first element God is beyond time, as
the eternal Idea, existing in the element, of eternity in so far as eternity is
contrasted with time. Thus time in this complete and independent form, time in-
and-for-self, unfolds itself and breaks up into past, present, and future. Thus
the divine history in its second stage as appearance is regarded as the past, it
is, it has Being, but it is Being which is degraded to a mere semblance. In tak
ing on the form of appearance it is immediate existence, which is at the same ti
me negated, and this is the past. The divine history is thus regarded as somethi
ng past, as representing the Historical properly so called. The third element is
the present, yet it is only the limited present, not the eternal present, but r
ather the present which distinguishes itself from the past and future, and repre
sents the element of feeling, of the immediate subjectivity of spiritual Being w
hich is now. The present must, however, also represent the third element ; the C
hurch raises itself to Heaven too, and thus this Present is one which raises its
elf as well and is essentially reconciled, and is brought by means of the negati
on of its immediacy to a perfected form as universality, a perfection or complet
ion which, however, does not yet exist, and which is therefore to be conceived o
f as future. It is a Now of the present whose perfect stage is before it, but th
is perfect stage is distinguished from the particular Now which is still immedia
cy, and it is thought of as future.
We have, speaking generally, to consider the Idea as divine self-revelation, and
this revelation is to be taken in the sense indicated by the three categories j
ust mentioned.
According to the first of these, God exists in a pure form for the finite spirit
 only as thought. This is the theoretical consciousness in which the thinking su
bject exists in a condition of absolute composure, and is not yet posited in thi
s relation, not yet posited in the form of a process, but exists in the absolute
ly unmoved calm of the thinking spirit. Here God is for it thought of, exists fo
r thought, and Spirit thus rests in the simple conclusion that He brings Himself
into harmony with Himself by means of His difference which, however, here exist
s only in the form of pure ideality, and has not yet reached the form of externa
lity and is in immediate unity with Himself. This is the first of these relation
s, and it exists solely for the thinking subject which is occupied with the pure
content only. This is the Kingdom of the Father.
The second characteristic is the Kingdom of the Son, in which God exists, in a g
eneral way, for idea or figurative thought in the element of mental pictures or
representation by ideas. This is the moment of separation or particularisation i
n general. Looked at from this second standpoint, what in the first stage repres
ented God's Other or object, without, however, being defined as such, now receiv
es the character or determination of an Other. Considered from the first standpo
int, God as the Son is not distinguished from the Father, but what is stated of
Him is expressed merely in terms of feeling. In connection with the second eleme
nt, however, the Son is characterised as an Other or object, and thus we pass ou
t of the pure ideality of Thought into the region of ordinary thought or idea. I
f, according to the first characterisation, God begets only one Son, here He pro
duces Nature. Here the Other is Nature, and the element of difference thus recei
ves its justification. What is thus differentiated is Nature, the world in gener
al, and Spirit which is related to it, the natural Spirit. Here the element whic
h we have already designated Subject comes in, and itself constitutes the conten
t. Man is here involved in the content. Since Man is here related to Nature, and
is himself natural, he has this character only within the sphere of religion, a
nd consequently we have here to consider Nature and Man from the point of view o
f religion. The Son comes into the world, and this is the beginning of faith. Wh
en we speak of the coming of the Son into the world we are already using the lan
guage of faith. God cannot really exist for the finite spirit as such, for in th
e very fact that God exists for it it is directly involved that the finite spiri
t does not maintain its finitude as something having Being, but that it stands i
n a certain relation to Spirit and is reconciled to God. In its character as the
finite spirit it is represented as in a state of revolt and separation with reg
ard to God. It is thus in contradiction with what is its own object and content,
and in this contradiction lies the necessity for its abolition and elevation to
a higher form. The necessity for this supplies the starting-point, and the next
step in advance is that God exists for Spirit, that the divine content presents
itself in a pictorial form to Spirit. Here, however, Spirit exists at the same
time in an empirical and finite form, and thus what God is appears to Spirit in
an empirical way. Since, however, the Divine comes into view, and exists for Spi
rit in history of this kind, this history has no longer the character of outward
history ; it becomes divine history, the history of the manifestation of God Hi
mself. This constitutes the transition to the Kingdom of the Spirit, in which we
have the consciousness that Man is implicitly reconciled to God, and that this
reconciliation exists for Man. The process of reconciliation itself is contained
in Worship.
It has to he noted further that we do not, as we did previously, draw a distinct
ion between Notion, Form, and Worship. It will become evident, as we go on to tr
eat of the subject, that worship enters in directly everywhere. The following ge
neral remarks may here be made on this point. The element with which we have got
to do is Spirit, and Spirit is what manifests itself, what essentially exists f
or self, or has actual existence, and as thus conceived of it never exists alone
, but always possesses the character of something revealed, something which exis
ts for an Other, for its own Other, i.e., for that side of Being which is repres
ented by the finite spirit. Worship thus is the relation of the finite spirit to
the absolute Spirit, and for this reason we find that this idea of worship is p
resent in each of these elements.
In this connection a distinction has to be drawn between the Idea as it exists i
n the various elements for the Notion, and the Idea as it appears in the form of
ordinary conception. Religion is universal, not only for thought which is marke
d by culture and intellectual grasp, for the philosophical consciousness ; but t
he truth of the Idea of God is manifest also to the ordinary consciousness which
represents things pictorially by ideas, and is marked by those necessary charac
teristics which are inseparable from the ordinary or popular ideas of things.
GOD IN HIS ETERNAL IDEA IN-AND-FOR-SELF.
Thus, regarded in the element of thought, God is, so to speak, outside of or bef
ore the creation of the world. In so far as He is thus in Himself, He represents
the eternal Idea which is not yet posited in its reality, but is itself as yet
merely the abstract Idea.
Thus God in His eternal Idea still exists in the abstract element of thought, an
d not in that of notional comprehension. It is this pure Idea with which we are
already acquainted. This is the element of thought, the Idea in its eternal pres
ence, as it exists for free thought, whose fundamental characteristic is the unt
roubled light, self-identity, an element which is as yet unaffected by the prese
nce of Being other than itself.
Within this sphere or element (i.) Determination is necessary, inasmuch as thoug
ht in general is different from thought which comprehends or grasps the process
of Spirit. The eternal Idea in its essential existence, in-and-for-self, is pres
ent in thought, the Idea in its absolute truth. Eeligion has thus a content, and
the content is an object ; religion is the religion of men, and Man, besides hi
s other qualities, is a thinking consciousness, and therefore the Idea must exis
t for thinking consciousness. But this is not all that Man is, for it is in the
sphere of thought that he first finds his true nature, and it is only for though
t that a universal object exists, only to thought can the essence of the object
show itself; and since in religion God is the object, He is essentially an objec
t for thought. He is object inasmuch as Spirit is consciousness, and He exists f
or thought because it is God who is the object.
For sensuous or reflective consciousness God cannot exist as God, i.e., in His e
ternal and absolute essentiality. His manifestation of Himself is something diff
erent from this, and is made to sensuous consciousness. If God were present only
in feeling, then men would be no higher than the beasts. It is true that He doe
s exist for feeling too, but only in the region of appearance or manifestation.
Nor does He exist for consciousness of the rationalistic type. Eeflection is cer
tainly thought too ; but it has at the same time an accidental character, and be
cause of this its content is something chosen at random, and is limited. God is
certainly not a content of this kind. He thus exists essentially for thought. It
is necessary to put the matter thus when we start from what is subjective, from
Man. But this is the very truth we reach, too, when we start from God. Spirit e
xists for the spirit for which it does exist, only in so far as it reveals and d
ifferentiates itself, and this is the eternal Idea, thinking Spirit, Spirit in t
he element of its freedom. In this region God is the self-revealer, just because
He is Spirit ; but He is not yet present as outward manifestation. That God exi
sts for Spirit is thus an essential principle. '
Spirit is what thinks. Within this pure thought the relation is of an immediate
kind, and there exists no difference between the two elements to differentiate t
hem. Nothing comes between them. Thought is pure unity with itself, from which a
ll that is obscure and dark has disappeared. This kind of thought may also be ca
lled pure intuition, as being the simple form of the activity of thought, so tha
t there is nothing between the subject and the object, as these two do not yet r
eally exist. This kind of thought has no limitation, it is universal activity, a
nd its content is no other than the Universal itself ; it is pure pulsation with
in itself.
2. It, however, passes further into the stage of absolute Diremption. How does t
his differentiation come about ? Thought is actu, unlimited. The element of diff
erence in its most immediate form consists in this that the two sides which we h
ave seen to be the two sorts of modes in which the principle appears, show their
difference in their differing starting-points. The one side, subjective thought
, is the movement of thought in so far as it starts from immediate individual Be
ing, and, while within this, raises itself to what is Universal and Infinite, as
is the case with the first proof of the existence of God. In so far as it has a
rrived at the stage of the Universal, thought is unlimited ; its end is infinite
ly pure thought, so that all the mist of fmitude has disappeared, and it here th
inks God ; every trace of separation has vanished, and thus religion, thinking u
pon God, begins. The second side is that which has for its starting-point the Un
iversal, the result of that first movement, thought, the Notion. The Universal i
s, however, in its turn again an inner movement, and its nature is to differenti
ate itself within itself, and thus to preserve within itself the element of diff
erence, but yet to do this in such a way as not to disturb the universality whic
h is also there. Here universality is something which has this element of differ
ence within itself, and is in harmony with itself. This represents the abstract
content of thought, and this abstract thought is the result which has followed f
rom what has taken place.
The two sides are thus mutually opposed or contrasted. Subjective Thought, the t
hought of the finite spirit, is a Process too, inner mediation ; but this proces
s goes on outside of it, or behind it. It is only in so far as subjective though
t has raised itself to something higher that religion begins, and thus what we h
ave in religion is pure motionless abstract thought. The concrete, on the other
hand, is found in its Object, for this is the kind of thought which starts from
the Universal, which differentiates itself, and consequently is in harmony with
itself. It is this concrete element which is the object for thought, taking thou
ght in a general sense. This kind of thought is thus abstract thought, and conse
quently the finite, for the abstract is finite ; the concrete is the truth, the
infinite object.
3. God is Spirit; in His abstract character He is characterised as universal Spi
rit which particularises itself. This represents the absolute truth, and that re
ligion is the true one which possesses this content.
Spirit is the process referred to ; it is movement, life ; its nature is to diff
erentiate itself, to give itself a definite character, to determine itself ; and
the first form of the differentiation consists in this, that Spirit appears as
the universal Idea itself. This Universal contains the entire Idea, but it only
contains it, it is the Idea potentially only.
In the act of judgment or separation, the Other, what is put in contrast with th
e Universal, the Particular, is God as that which is distinguished from the Univ
ersal, but as implying that what is thus distinguished represents His entire Ide
a in-and-for-itself. Thus these two characteristics mean the same thing in refer
ence to each other mean that there is an identity between them, that they are on
e, that this difference is not merely done away with implicitly and that we are
merely aware of this, but that the fact of their being the same has been brought
forward into actuality or posited, and that these differences are done away wit
h in so far as this differentiation just means that the difference is actually s
hown to be no difference, and thus the One is at home with itself in the Other.
The fact that this is so is just what is meant by Spirit, or, expressed in terms
of feeling, by eternal Love. The Holy Spirit is eternal love. When we say God i
s love, we are expressing a very great and true thought ; but it would be unreas
onable merely to take this in such a simple way as a simple characterisation of
God without analysing the meaning of love.
For love implies a distinguishing between two, and yet these two are, as a matte
r of fact, not distinguished from one another. Love, this sense of being outside
of myself, is the feeling and consciousness of this identity. My self-conscious
ness is not in myself, but in another ; but this Other in whom alone I find sati
sfaction and am at peace with myself and I exist only in so far as I am at peace
with myself, for if I had not this inner peace I would be the contradiction whi
ch breaks itself up into parts this Other, just because it is outside of me, has
its self-consciousness only in me. Thus the two are represented simply by this
consciousness of their being outside of themselves and of their identity, and th
is perception, this feeling, this knowledge of the unity, is love.
God is love ; i.e., He represents the distinction referred to, and the nullity o
f this distinction, the sort of play of this act of distinction which is not to
be taken seriously, and which is therefore posited as something abolished, i.e.,
as the eternal, simple Idea.
This eternal Idea, accordingly, finds expression in the Christian religion under
the name of the Holy Trinity, and this is God Himself, the eternal Triune God.
Here God exists only for the man who thinks, who keeps within the quiet of his o
wn mind. The ancients called this enthusiasm ; it is pure theoretic contemplatio
n, the supreme repose of thought, but at the same time its highest activity mani
fested in grasping the pure Idea of God and becoming conscious of this Idea. The
mystery of the dogma of God's nature is disclosed to men ; they believe in it,
and have already vouchsafed to them the highest truth, although they apprehend i
t only iu the form of a popular or figurative idea, without being conscious of t
he necessary nature of this truth, and without grasping it in its entirety or co
mprehending it. Truth is the unveiling of what Spirit is in-and-for-itself. Man
is himself Spirit, and therefore the truth exists for him. To begin with, howeve
r, the truth which comes to him does not yet possess for him the form of freedom
; it is for him merely something given and received, which, however, he can rec
eive only because he is Spirit. This truth, this Idea, has been called the dogma
of the Trinity. God is Spirit, the activity of pure thought, the activity which
is not outside of itself, which is within the sphere of its own being. * It was
Aristotle chiefly who conceived of God under the abstract determination of acti
vity. Pure activity is knowledge (in the scholastic period actus purus) ; but in
order that it may actually appear as activity, it has to be posited iii its mom
ents or stages. Knowledge implies the existence of an Other or object which is c
onsciously known, and since it is knowledge which knows it, it is reckoned as be
longing to it. * This explains how God, who represents Being in-and-for-self, et
ernally produces Himself in the form of His Son, distinguishes Himself from Hims
elf, and is the absolute act of judgment or differentiation. What He thus distin
guishes from Himself does not take on the form of something which is other than
Himself; but, on the contrary, what is thus distinguished is nothing more nor le
ss than that from which it has been distinguished. God is Spirit ; and no darkne
ss, no colouring or mixture enters into this pure light. The relation between Fa
ther and Son is expressed in terms of organic life, and is used in the popular o
r figurative sense. This natural relation is merely pictorial, and, accordingly,
never entirely corresponds to the truth that is sought to be expressed. We say
that God eternally begets His Son, that God distinguishes Himself from Himself,
and thus we begin to say of God that He does this, and that in being in the Othe
r whom He has brought into definite existence, or posited, He is simply with Him
self, has not gone outside of Himself, and this is the form of love ; but, at th
e same time, we ought to know that God is Himself just this entire act. God is t
he beginning ; He does this definite thing; but He is equally the end only, the
totality, and it is as totality that God is Spirit. God thought of simply as the
 Father is not yet the True. (Thus in the Jewish religion He is conceived of wit
hout the Son.) He is, on the contrary, Beginning and End ; He is His own presupp
osition, He constitutes Himself His presupposition this is simply another form o
f the fact of differentiation He is the eternal Process. The fact that this is t
he truth, and the absolute truth, appears rather in the form of something given
or taken for granted. That this should be consciously known as the entire and ab
solute truth, the truth in-and-for-itself, is, however, just the work of philoso
phy, and is the entire content of philosophy. In it it is seen how all that cons
titutes Nature and Spirit presses forward in a dialectic form to this central po
int as to its absolute truth. Here we are not concerned to prove that the dogma,
this silent mystery, is the eternal Truth. That is done, as has been said, in t
he whole of philosophy.
By way of giving a more definite explanation of these characteristics, we may fu
rther call attention to the following points :
(a.) When the intention is to express what God is, the attributes are what is fi
rst thought of. These attributes are God ; He is defined by means of predicates,
and this is a mode of expressing the truth which is characteristic of the ordin
ary thought, of the understanding. Predicates are definite characteristics, part
icularisations, such as goodness, almighty power, &c.
The predicates certainly do not represent natural immediacy, but have got a perm
anence by means of reflection, and in this way the definite content which they r
epresent has become immovably fixed in itself, exactly as is the natural content
by means of which God is represented in the religion of Nature. Natural objects
, such as the sun, the sea, &c., are, they exist ; but the determinations of ref
lection are as much self-identical as is natural immediacy.
As Orientals have a feeling that this is not the true mode of expressing the nat
ure of God, they say that He is TroAiww/xos, that His nature cannot be exhausted
by predicates, for names are in this connection the same as predicates.
What is really defective in this way of defining God by means of predicates is t
hat these predicates are only particular characterisations, and that there are m
any such particular characterisations, and that it is the subject as essentially
undifferentiated to which they are attached ; and this explains, too, how there
comes to be such an infinite number of predicates. Since there are particular d
eterminations, and since these particularisations are viewed in accordance with
their determinateness, and ave made the subject of thought, they come to be in o
pposition or contradiction with each other, and these contradictions accordingly
are not harmonised.
This is further seen when these predicates are taken as expressing the relation
of God to the world, and when the world is thought of as something different fro
m God. Being particularisatious, they cannot adequately express His nature, and
this explains that other way of considering them as expressing certain relations
between God and the world, such as the omnipresence, the infinite wisdom of God
in the world.
They do not contain the true relation of God to Him/ self, but to an Other, the
world namely, and thus they are limited, and in this way get to be contradictory
. We have the feeling that God is not represented in this way as living when so
many particular features are counted up one after the other. Nor is the contradi
ction which they involve truly harmonised by taking away their determinateness w
hen the Understanding demands that they should be taken merely sensu eminentiori
. The true harmony or solution of the contradiction is contained in the Idea, wh
ich is the self-determination of God to the act of distinguishing Himself from H
imself, but is at the same time the eternal abolition of the distinction.
If the element of difference were left remaining, there would be contradiction,
and if this difference were permanent, then finitude would arise. Both are indep
endent in reference to each other, and they are in relation to each other as wel
l. It is not the nature of the Idea to allow the difference to remain ; but, on
the contrary, its nature is just to resolve or cancel the difference. God posits
Himself in this element of difference, but He also abolishes it as well.
When accordingly we attach predicates to God in such a way as to make them parti
cular, our first concern is to harmonise this contradiction. This is an external
act, the act of our reflection, and consequently, owing to the fact that it is
external and takes place in us, and is not the content of the Divine Idea, it fo
llows that the contradictions cannot be harmonised. The Idea in its very nature
implies the abolition of the contradiction. Its essential content and nature con
sists in the very fact that it posits this difference and cancels it absolutely,
and this represents the living nature of the Idea itself.
(6.) In the metaphysical proofs of the existence of God, we can see that, in pas
sing from Notion to Being, the Notion is not thought of merely as Notion, but as
existing also, as having reality. It is in connection with the standpoint with
which we are now dealing, that the necessity arises of making the transition' fr
om the Notion to Being.
The divine Notion is the pure Notion, the Notion without any limitation whatsoev
er. The Idea implies that the Notion determines itself, and consequently posits
itself as something different from itself. This is a moment or stage of the divi
ne Idea itself, and just because the thinking, reflecting spirit has this conten
t before it, there arises the necessity for this transition, this forward moveme
nt.
The logical element of this transition is contained in those so-called proofs. I
t is within the Notion itself, and with the Notion as the starting-point, and, i
n fact, by means of the Notion, that the transition must be made to objectivity,
to Being, and this in the element of thought. This which appears in the form of
a subjective necessity is content, is the one moment of the divine Idea itself.
When we say, God has created a world, we imply that there has been a transition
from the Notion to objectivity, only the world is here characterised as essenti
ally God's Other, and as being the negation of God, outside of God, without God,
godless. In so far as the world is denned as this Other, the difference does no
t present itself to us as being in the Notion itself or as contained in the Noti
on ; i.e., Being, Objectivity must be shown to be in the Notion, must be shown t
o exist in the form of activity, consequence, determination of the Notion itself
.
It is thus shown, at the same time, that this is implicitly the same content, th
at the necessity for transition is seen in the form of the proof of the existenc
e of God referred to. In the absolute Idea, in the element of thought, God is th
is purely concrete Universal, i.e., He is thought of as positing Himself as an O
ther, but in such a way that this Other is immediately and directly characterise
d as God Himself, and the difference as being merely ideal is directly done away
with, and does not attain to the form of externality, and this just means that
what has thus been posited as difference has been shown to exist in and to be in
volved in the Notion.
It is characteristic of the logical sphere in which this shows itself that it is
the nature of every definite conception or notion to annul itself, to be its ow
n contradiction, and consequently to appear as its own difference, and to posit
itself as such. Thus the Notion itself is still affected by this element of one-
sidedness and finitude, and is something subjective ; and the characteristics of
the Notion, its differences, are posited as ideal merely, and do not actually a
ppear in a definite form as differences. Such is the Notion which gives itself a
n objective form.
When we say God, we speak of Him merely as abstract ; or when we say God the Fat
her, the Universal, we speak of Him in terms of finite existence merely. His inf
initude consists just in this, that He does away with this form of abstract univ
ersality, of immediacy, and in this way difference is posited ; but it is just H
is very nature to abolish this difference. It is consequently then only that He
is truly reality, truth, infinitude.
This Idea is the speculative or philosophical Idea, i.e., the rational element,
and inasmuch as it is reached by thinking, it is the act of thinking upon what i
s rational. Thought which is not speculative, thought which is the product of th
e Understanding, is the thought which does not get beyond difference as differen
ce, nor beyond the finite and the infinite. Both have an absoluteness attributed
to them, and yet they are thought of as being in relation to each other, and as
so far constituting a unity, and consequently as having in them the element of
contradiction.
(c.) This speculative Idea stands opposed to the sense element in thought and al
so to the Understanding. It is consequently a secret or mystery to the senses an
d their way of looking at things, and to the Understanding also. For both it is
a /uLixmipiov, i.e., so far as regards what is rational in it. The nature of God
is indeed not a mystery in the ordinary sense of the term, and least of all in
the Christian religion, for in it God has communicated the knowledge of Himself,
He has shown what He is, He has revealed Himself; but it is a mystery for sense
-perception, for idea or ordinary thought, for the senses and their way of looki
ng at things, and for the Understanding.
Speaking generally, the fundamental characteristic of the sensuous is externalit
y, the idea of things as being outside of one another. In space the differences
are contiguous, in time they are successive. Space and Time represent the extern
ality in which they exist. Thus it is characteristic of the mode of regarding th
ings which belongs to the senses, that differences should present themselves as
lying outside of one another, Thus, -sense-knowledge is based on the idea that t
he differences have an independent existence and remain external to one another.

Thus, for the senses, w-hat is in the Idea is a mystery, for in the region of th
e Idea, the way in which things -are looked at, the relations ascribed to things
, and the categories employed, are entirely different from what we have in the r
egion of sense. The Idea is just this act of distinguishing or differentiation w
hich at the same time -gives no difference and does not hold to this difference
as permanent. God beholds Himself in what is differentiated ; and when in His Ot
her He is united merely with Himself, He is there with no other but Himself, He
is in close union only with Himself, He beholds Himself in His Other.
In connection with the senses we have something quite the reverse of this. In se
nseknowledge one thing is here and another there, each passes for something inde
pendent, it does not pass for being something which is what it is because it fin
ds itself in an Other. In the region of sense-knowledge two things cannot be in
one and the same place ; they are mutually exclusive.
In the Idea the differences are posited, not as exclusive, but as existing only
in this mutual inclusion of the one by the other. This is the true superseusuous
, not the ordinary supersensuous, which is regarded as something above ; fdr thi
s latter equally belongs to the region of the sensuous, in which things are outs
ide of one another and indifferent to one another. In so far as God is character
ised as Spirit, externality is done away with and absorbed, and therefore this i
s a mystery for sense.
This Idea is equally something beyond the grasp of the Understanding and is for
it a secret, for it is the very nature of the Understanding to hold fast by and
keep unchangeably to the idea that the categories of thought are absolutely excl
usive and different, and that they remain unalterably independent in relation to
each other. The Positive is not the same as the Negative, as, for example, caus
e-effect.
But, so far as the Notion is concerned, it is equally true that these difference
s cancel themselves. It is just because they are differences that they remain fi
nite, and it is the nature of the Understanding to stick to the finite, and even
when it is dealing with the Infinite itself it has the Infinite on the one side
and the finite on the other.
The real truth is that the finite, and the Infinite which is put in contrast wit
h the finite, have no true existence, but are themselves merely transitory. So f
ar this is a secret for the sensuous way of conceiving of things and for the Und
erstanding, and they struggle against the element of rationality in the Idea. Th
ose who oppose the doctrine of the Trinity are men who are guided merely by thei
r senses and understanding.
The Understanding is equally powerless to grasp the meaning of anything else wha
tever, or to get at the truth regarding anything. Animal life also exists as Ide
a, as a unity of the notion or conception of the soul and bodily form. For the U
nderstanding each of these exists for itself. They are undoubtedly different, bu
t it is equally their nature to abolish this difference. Life is simply this per
ennial process. What has life exists ; it has impulses, needs, and consequently
it has within itself difference, and this originates within it. There thus comes
to be a contradiction, and the Understanding takes these differences as implyin
g that the contradiction does not cancel itself; when they are brought into rela
tion with each other nothing exists but just the contradiction, which cannot be
cancelled.
The contradiction is there; it cannot cease to exist if the elements of differen
ce are held to be perennial elements of difference, just because it is the fact
of this difference that is insisted upon. "What has life has certain needs, and
thus involves a contradiction, but the satisfaction of these is the removal of t
he contradiction.
In the case of impulse, in the presence of any need, I am distinguished from mys
elf, and this within myself. But life just means the harmonising of the contradi
ction, the satisfying of the need, the attainment of peace, in such a way, howev
er, that a contradiction springs up again. What we have is the alternation of th
e act of differentiation or contradiction, and of the removal of the contradicti
on.
The two are different in point of time, the element of succession is present in
connection with them, and they are on that account finite. Here, too, the Unders
tanding, in considering impulse and the satisfaction of impulse by themselves, f
ails to grasp the truth that in the very act of affirmation, in the very feeling
of self, there is at the same time contained the negation of the feeling of sel
f, limitation, defect, and yet I as having this feeling of self at once pass bey
ond this element of defect.
This is the ordinary definite idea of a pva-ri'ipiov. A mystery is also describe
d as the incomprehensible ; but it is just the Notion itself, the speculative el
ement in thought, which is described as incomprehensible, the fact that what is
rational is stated in terms of thought. It is just by means of thought that the
element of difference is definitely developed.
The thinking of the impulse is merely the analysis of what the impulse is ; the
affirmation and the negation involved in it, the feeling of self, the satisfacti
on of the impulse and the impulse. To think it is just to recognise the element
of difference which is in it. When, accordingly, the Understanding gets so far,
it says : this is a contradiction, and it remains at this point, it holds by the
contradiction in face of experience, which teaches that life itself just means
the removal of the contradiction.
Thus, when the impulse is analysed, the contradiction comes to light, and then i
t can be said : impulse is something incomprehensible. The nature of God is equa
lly something incomprehensible. This Incomprehensible is really nothing but the
Notion itself, which involves the power of differentiation, and the Understandin
g does not get beyond the fact of the existence of the difference.
Thus it says : this cannot be comprehended ; for the principle of the Understand
ing is abstract self-identity, and not concrete identity, according to which the
se differences exist in something which is one. For the Understanding God is the
One, the Essence of Essences. This empty identity without difference is the fal
se representation of God given by the Understanding and by modern theology. God
is Spirit, what gives itself an objective form and knows itself in that. This is
concrete identity, and thus the Idea is also an essential moment. According to
the idea of abstract identity, on the other hand, the One and the Other exist in
dependently, each for itself, and are at the same time related to each other, an
d therefore we get a contradiction.
This, then, is what is called the incomprehensible. The cancelling or resolution
of the contradiction is the Notion; the Understanding does not get the length o
f the cancelling of the contradiction, because it starts with the presupposition
of its existence ; for it the two sides which form the contradiction are and re
main in a state of mutual independence.
One reason why it is said that the Divine Idea is incomprehensible is that, sinc
e religion, the truth, exists for all men, the content of the Idea appears in a
sensuous form, or in the form of something which can be grasped by the Understan
ding. It appears, we repeat, in a sensuous form, and so we have the expressions
Father and Son descriptive of a relation which exists in the sphere of life, a d
esignation which has been adopted from what is seen in the sense-life.
In religion the truth is revealed in accordance with the content ; but it is som
ething different for it to appear in the form of the Notion, of thought, or as t
he Notion in a speculative form. However happily expressed those nai've forms, s
uch as begetting, son, &c., given to faith, may be, whenever the Understanding t
akes them in hand and applies its categories to them, they are at once perverted
, and whenever it is in the mood it does not cease to point out the contradictio
ns involved in them. It gets the power and the right to do this from the differe
ntiation and reflection into themselves which exist in these forms. But it is ju
st God or Spirit who Himself abolishes these contradictions. He does not require
to wait for the Understanding to remove those characteristics which contain con
tradiction. It is just the very nature of Spirit to remove them ; and so, too, i
t belongs essentially to Spirit to posit these characteristics, to make distinct
ions within itself, to bring about this separation or diremption.
When, again, we say that the idea of God in His eternal universality implies tha
t He differentiates Himself, determines Himself, posits something that is His Ot
her or object, and at the same time abolishes the difference, is not outside of
Himself in the difference, and is Spirit only through what He thus accomplishes,
then we get another example of how the Understanding treats the question. It ta
kes up this thought, brings its categories of finitude to bear upon it, counts o
ne, two, three, and introduces into it the unfortunate category of number. Here,
however, we have nothing to do with number ; numeration is something which impl
ies utter absence of thought, and if we introduce this category here we introduc
e the element of incomprehensibility.
It is possible in the exercise of Reason to make use of all the categories of th
e Understanding which imply relation. Reason, however, does not only use them, i
t destroys them, and so, too, here. This is indeed hard for the Understanding, s
ince it imagines that because they have been made use of they have won some kind
of right to exist. They are, however, misused when, as here, they are used in c
onnection with the expression, three are one. It is accordingly easy to point ou
t that there are contradictions in such ideas, differences which get the length
of being opposites, and the sterile Understanding prides itself on amassing thes
e. In all that is concrete, in all that has life, this contradiction is involved
, as has been already shown. It is only the dead Understanding that is self-iden
tical. In the Idea, on the other hand, we see the contradiction cancelled as wel
l, and it is just this cancelling or harmonising which is spiritual unity.
To enumerate the moments of the Idea as three units appears to besomething quite
ingenuous and natural, and which does not require to be explained. Only, in acc
ordance with the nature of number, which is here introduced into the matter, eac
h characteristic gets a fixed form as one, and we are required to conceive of th
ree units as only one unit, a demand which it is extremely hard to entertain, an
d which is, as is sometimes said, an utterly irrational demand.
It is the Understanding alone that is always haunted by this idea of the absolut
e independence of the unit or One, this idea of absolute separation and rupture.
If, on the contrary, we regard the matter from the point of view of logic, we s
ee that the One has an inner dialectic movement, and is not truly independent. I
t is only necessary to think of matter which is the true One or unity that offer
s resistance, but which is subject to the law of gravitation, i.e., it makes an
effort not to be one, and rather to do away with its state of independence, and
thus confesses that this is a nullity. In fact, just because it is only matter,
and continues to be the most external externality, it remains in the condition m
erely of something which ought to be. Matter as such is the poorest, most extern
al, most unspiritual mode of existence ; but it is gravitation, or the abolition
of the oneness, which constitutes the fundamental characteristic of matter. The
idea of a unit or a One is, to begin with, something wholly abstract ; these un
its get a still deeper meaning when they are expressed in terms of Spirit since
they are characterised as persons. Personality is something which is essentially
based on freedom, freedom in its first, deepest, most inward form, but also in
its most abstract form as the freedom which proclaims its presence in the subjec
t by saying, I am a person, I exist for myself. This is isolation pure and simpl
e, a condition of pure reserve.
When, therefore, these differences are defined thus, and each is taken as a unit
, or in fact as a person, owing to the infinite form according to which each mom
ent is regarded as a subject, the difficulty of satisfying the demand of the Ide
a that these differences should be regarded as differences which are not differe
nt, but are purely one, and that this difference should be abolished, appears to
be still more insurmountable.
Two cannot be one ; each person has a rigid, reserved, independent, self-centred
existence. Logic shows that the category of the unit is a poor category, a whol
ly abstract unit. But when we are dealing with personality, the contradiction se
ems to be pushed so far as to be incapable of any solution ; still the solution
is contained in the fact that there is only one person, and this threefold perso
nality, this personality which is consequently posited merely as a vanishing mom
ent, expresses the truth that the antithesis is an absolute one, and is not to b
e taken as an inferior antithesis, and that it is just exactly when it has got t
o this point it abolishes itself. It is, in short, the nature or character of wh
at we mean by person or subject to abolish its isolation, its separateness.
Morality, love, just mean the giving up of particularity or of the particular pe
rsonality and its extension to universality, and so, too, is it with the family
and friendship, for there you have the identity of the one with the other. Inasm
uch as I act rightly towards another, I consider him as identical with myself. I
n friendship and love I give up my abstract personality, and in this way ~ win i
t back as concrete personality.
It is just this winning back of personality by the act of absorption, by the bei
ng absorbed into the other, which constitutes the true nature of personality. Su
ch forms of the Understanding directly prove themselves in experience to be of t
hose which annul themselves.
In love, in friendship, it is the person or individual who maintains himself, an
d by means of love gets the subjectivity which is his personality. If here, in c
onnection with religion, the idea of personality is clung to in an abstract way,
then we get three Gods, and the infinite form, absolute negativity is forgotten
, or if personality is regarded as not cancelled, then we have evil, for persona
lity which does not yield itself up to the absolute Idea is evil. In the divine
unity personality is ^ held to be cancelled, and it is only in appearance that t
he negativity of personality is distinguished from that whereby it is done away
with.
The Trinity has been reduced to a relation of Father, Son, and Spirit, and this
is a childlike relation, a childlike natural form. The Understanding has no cate
gory, no relation which in point of suitability for expressing the truth can be
compared with this. At the same time it must be understood that it is merely pic
torial, and that Spirit does not actually enter into a relation of this kind. Lo
ve would be a still more suitable expression, but Spirit is the really true one.

The abstract God, the Father, is the Universal, the eternal, all embracing, tota
l particularity. We have reached the stage of Spirit ; here the Universal includ
es everything within itself; the Other, the Son, is infinite particularity, mani
festation ; the third, the Spirit, is individuality as such. The Universal, howe
ver, as totality is itself Spirit ; all three are Spirit. In the third, God is S
pirit, we say, but He is presupposed to be this as well, and the third is also t
he first. This is a truth which must be held to as essential. When, for instance
, W3 say that God, in accordance with His conception or notion, is potentially t
he immediate Power which differentiates itself and returns to itself, it is impl
ied that He is this only as being negativity which is immediately related to its
elf, i.e., as absolute reflection into self, which is just the characteristic of
Spirit. Should we, accordingly, wish to speak of God as presented in His first
determination, in accordance with His Notion, and should we wish to go on from t
his to the other determinations, we are already speaking of the third ; the last
is the first. When, in order to avoid this, and if we begin in an abstract way,
we speak of the first only in accordance with its own determination, or when th
e imperfection of the notion renders it necessary to do this, then the first is
the Universal, and that activity, that begetting or creating, is already a princ
iple distinct from the abstractUniversal, which thus appears and can appear as a
second principle, as something which manifests itself, externalises itself {Log
os, Sophia), just as the first exists as the abyss of Being. This is made clear
by the nature of the Notion itself. It comes to the front in connection with eve
ry end and with every manifestation of life. Life maintains itself; to maintain
or preserve means to pass into difference, into the struggle with particularity,
means that something finds itself to be distinct from inorganic nature. Life is
thus only a resultant inasmuch as it has brought itself into being, is a produc
t which in turn produces ; what is thus produced is itself living, i.e., it is i
ts own presupposition, it passes through its process, and nothing new comes out
of this ; what is produced was already there from the beginning. The same holds
true of love and reciprocal love. In so far as love exists, it is the beginning,
 and all action is merely its confirmation by which it is at once produced and n
ourished. But what is produced already exists, it is confirmation of the presenc
e of love, since nothing comes out of it but what is already there. In the same
way Spirit presupposes itself, it is what begins.
The differentiation through which the Divine Life passes is not of an external k
ind, but must be defined as an inward differentiation in such a way that the Fir
st, or the Father, is to be conceived of as the Last. The process is thus nothin
g but the play of self-preservation or self-confirmation. This characteristic is
of importance in this respect that it constitutes the criterion by which to est
imate the value of many of the popular conceptions of God, and by which what is
defective in them can be detected and criticised, and it is specially owing to t
he presence of that defective element that this characteristic is often overlook
ed or misunderstood.
We are considering the Idea in its universality, as it exists in pure thought, a
nd as defined by means of pure thought. This Idea is all truth and the one truth
, and consequently everything particular which is to be conceived of as true mus
t be conceived of in accordance with the Form of this Idea.
Nature and the finite spirit are a product of God, and therefore possess rationa
lity. The fact that they have been made by God involves their having truth in th
emselves, divine truth in general, i.e., the characteristic of this Idea conside
red generally.
The Form of this Idea exists in God only as Spirit ; if the Divine Idea exists i
n those forms which belong to finitude, it is not in that case posited in its tr
ue and entire nature, in-and-for-self ; it is only in Spirit that it is so posit
ed. In these finite forms it exists in a finite way ; but the world is something
which has been produced by God, and therefore the Divine Idea always constitute
s its basis if we consider it in a general aspect. To kuow the truth regarding a
nything just means to know it and define it in accordance with the form of this
Idea.
In the earlier religions, particularly in the religion of India, we have ideas w
hich are in accord with that of the Trinity as the true determination. This idea
of threefoldness was actually consciously reached, the idea that the One cannot
continue to exist as One and has not the true form it ought to have, that the O
ne does not represent the truth except as it appears in the form of movement, of
difference in general, and as standing in relation to some other. Trimurti is t
he rudest form in which this determination appears.
The third is not, however, Spirit, is not true reconciliation, but origination a
nd decay, change in fact, a category which is a unity of these differences, but
represents a union of a very subordinate kind.
It is not in immediate Appearance or manifestation, but only when Spirit has tak
en up its abode in the Church, when it is immediate, believing Spirit, and raise
s itself to the stage of thought, that the Idea reaches perfection. We are inter
ested in considering the workings or ferment of this Idea, and in learning to re
cognise what lies at the basis of the marvellous manifestations which occur. The
definition of God as the Three-in-One is one which, so far as philosophy is con
cerned, has quite ceased to be used, and in theology it is no longer seriously a
dopted. In fact, in certain quarters an attempt has been made to belittle the Ch
ristian religion by maintaining that this definition which it employs is already
older than Christianity, and that it has got it from somewhere or other. But, t
o begin with, any such historical statement does not for that matter of it decid
e anything whatsoever with regard to the inner truth. It must, moreover, be unde
rstood, too, that those peoples and individuals of former ages were not themselv
es conscious of the truth which was in the idea, and did not perceive that it co
ntained the absolute consciousness of the truth ; they regarded it as merely one
amongst other characteristics, and as different from the others. But it is a po
int of the greatest importance to determine whether such a characteristic is the
first and absolute characteristic which underlies all others, or whether it is
just one form which appears amongst others, as, for instance, in the case of Bra
hma, who is the One, but is not at the same time an object of worship. This form
has certainly the least chance of appearing in the Eeligion of Beauty and in th
at of External Utility. In the multiplicity and particularisation which are char
acteristic of these religions, it is not possible to meet with the element of me
asure which limits itself and returns to itself. Still they are not devoid of tr
aces of this unity. Aristotle, speaking of the Pythagorean numbers, of the triad
, says : We believe that we have really called on the gods only when we have cal
led on them three times. Amongst the Pythagoreans and in Plato we come upon the
abstract basis of the Idea, but the characteristics do not in any way get beyond
this condition of abstraction, and partly continue in the abstract state repres
ented by one, two, three ; though in Plato they get a rather more concrete form,
where we have described the nature of the One and the Other, that which is diff
erent in itself, Oarepov, and the third which is the unity of both.
The thought here is not of the fanciful kind which we have in thelndian religion
s, but is rather a mere abstraction. We have actual categories of thought which
are better than numbers, better than the category of number, but which, all the
same, are entirely abstract categories of thought.
It is, however, chiefly about the time of Christ's birth, and during several cen
turies after, that we come upon a philosophical representation of this truth in
a figurative form, and which has for its basis the popular idea expressed by the
Trinity. It is found partly in philosophical systems pure and simple, such as t
hat of Philo, who had carefully studied Pythagorean and Platonic philosophy, and
then in the later writers of the Alexandrian School, but more especially in a b
lending of the Christian religion with philosophical ideas of the kind referred
to, and it is this blending of the two which constitutes in a large measure the
various heresies, particularly the Gnostic heresy. Speaking generally, we see in
these attempts to grasp the Idea of the Three-in-One, the reality which charact
erises Western thought refined away into an intellectual world through the influ
ence of Eastern idealism. These are, to be sure, only first attempts resulting i
n what were merely paltry and fantastic conceptions. Still we can see in them at
least the struggle of Spirit to reach truth, and this deserves recognition.
An almost countless number of forms of stating the truth may be observed here ;
the First is, the Father, the "Ov, terms which express something which is the ab
yss or depths of Being, i.e., something, in fact, which is as yet empty, which c
annot be grasped by thought, but is incomprehensible and beyond the power of any
conception to express.
For what is empty, indeterminate, is undoubtedly the Incomprehensible, the negat
ive of the Notion, and it is the nature of its notion to be this negative since
it is merely one-sided abstraction, and constitutes what is merely a moment of t
he Notion. The One for itself, is not yet the Notion, the True.
If the First is defined as the merely Universal, and if the definitions or deter
minations are simply referred to the Universal, to the ov, then we certainly get
the incomprehensible, for it is without content ; anything comprehensible is co
ncrete, and can >be comprehended only in so far as it is determined as a moment.
And it is in this that tlte defect lies, namely, that the First is not conceive
d of as being by its very nature totality.
Another idea of the same kind is expressed when it is said that the First is the
fivOds, the Abyss, the depths, aia>v, the Eternal, whose dwelling is in the ine
xpressible heights, who is raised above all contact with finite things, out of w
hom 'nothing is evolved, the First Principle, the Father of all existence, the P
ropator, who is a Father only mediately, the Trpoap^, He who was before the begi
nning. The revelation of this abyss of Being, of this hidden God, is defined as
self-contemplation, reflection into self, concrete determination in general ; se
lf-contemplation begets, it is, in fact, the begetting of the Onlybegotten ; thi
s represents the fact that the Eternal is in process of being comprehended, beca
use here we get the length of determination.
This Second, Other-Being or object, determination, action in short as shown in s
elf-determination, is the most general determination, as it appears in the form
of the Xo'yo?, the activity which determines itself after the manner of reason,
known also as the Word. The Word is this simple self-expression which does not m
ake any hard and fast distinction, and does not become a hard and fast distincti
on, but is taken in an immediate sense, and which being thus immediate is taken
up into the inner life of the Eternal, and returns to its original source. It is
further expressed by the word o-otpia, Wisdom, the original Man in the absolute
purity of his Being, something which actually exists, and is other than that fi
rst universality in short, a particular something with a definite character. God
is the 'Creator, and He is this in His specific character as the Logos, as the
self-externalising, self-expressing Word, as the opatrt?, the vision of God.
This Second came to be further defined as the archetype of Man, Adam Kadmon, the
Only-begotten. This does not describe some accidental 'characteristic, but, on
the contrary, eternal action, which is not confined simply to one time. In God t
here is only one birth, activity in the form of eternal activity, a characterist
ic which essentially belongs to the Universal itself.
Here we have the true differentiation or distinction which has reference to the
quality of both, but this quality is only one and the same Substance, and the di
fference is accordingly merely superficial as yet even when defined as a person.

The essential point is that this (ro<p[a, the Onlybegotten, remains likewise in
the bosom of God, and the distinction is no real distinction.
It was in forms such as these that the Idea showed its workings. The most import
ant point of view from which to regard the matter is that which will enable us t
o see that, however rude were the shapes taken by these thoughts, they are to be
considered as rational, and from which we shall perceive that they are based on
reason, and discover what amount of reason is in them. Still it is necessary at
the same time to be able to distinguish the form of rationality which is presen
t, and which is not yet adequate to express content.
This Idea is usually put somewhere beyond Man, beyond thought and reason, and fo
rms an antithesis to these, so that this characteristic, which is all truth, and
alone is truth, comes to be regarded as something peculiar to God only, somethi
ng which remains in a region beyond human life, and does not reflect itself into
its Other, which appears in the form of the world, Nature, Man. So far this fun
damental idea is not regarded as the Universal Idea.
To Jacob Bohme this mystery of the threefold nature became clear in another fash
ion. His way of conceiving of the truth, and his style of thought, are certainly
of a rather wild and fantastic sort. He did not attain to the use of the pure f
orms of thought, but the ruling and fundamental principle of all the ideas which
fermented in his mind, and of all his struggles to reach the truth, was the rec
ognition of the presence of Trinity everywhere and in everything, as, e.g., when
he says, " It must be born in the heart of Man."
It forms the universal basis of everything which is looked at in a true way, it
may indeed be as finite, but still as something which even in its finitude has t
he truth in it. Thus Jacob Bohme attempted to represent under this category Natu
re and the heart or spirit of Man.
In more recent times the conception of Trinity has, through the influence of the
Kantian philosophy, been brought into notice again in an outward way as a type,
and, as it were, as a ground-plan of thought, and this in very definite forms o
f thought. "When this Idea is thus known to represent what is the one and essent
ial nature of God, the next step is to cease to regard it as something belonging
to a region above human thought and beyond this world, and to feel that the goa
l of knowledge is the recognition of the truth in the Particular as well, and if
it is thus recognised as present in it, then all that is true in the Particular
involves this determination. To know in the philosophical sense, means to know
anything in its determinateness. Its nature, however, is just the nature of the
determinateness itself, and it is unfolded in the Idea. Logical exposition and l
ogical necessity mean that this Idea represents truth in general, and that all t
hought-determinations can be reduced to this movement of determination.

II. THE ETERNAL IDEA OF GOD IN THE ELEMENT OF CONSCIOUSNESS AND ORDINARY THOUGHT
( VORSTELLEN), OR, DIFFERENCE ; THE KINGDOM OF THE SON.
We have here to consider how this Idea passes out of its condition of universali
ty and infinity into the determination or specific form of finitude. God is ever
ywhere present, and the presence of God is just the element of truth which is in
everything.
To begin with, the Idea was found in the element of thought. This forms the basi
s, and we started with it. The Universal, and what is consequently the more abst
ract, must precede all else in scientific knowledge. Looking at the matter from
a scientific point of view, it is what comes first, though actually it is what c
omes later, so far as its existence in a definite form is concerned. It is what
is potential and essential, but it is what appears later in knowledge, and reach
es the stage of consciousness and knowledge later.
The Form of the Idea actually appears as a result which, however, is essentially
potentiality ; and just as the content of the Idea means that the last is the f
irst and the first is the last, so what appears as a result is the presuppositio
n, potentiality, basis. This Idea is now to be considered as it appears in the s
econd element, in the element of manifestation in general. In its form as object
ivity, or as potential, the absolute Idea is complete; but this is not the case
with the Idea in its subjective aspect, either in itself as such, or when subjec
tivity actually appears in the Divine Idea. The progress of the Idea here referr
ed to may be looked at from two sides.
Looking at it from the first of these, we see that the subject for which this Id
ea exists is the thinking subject. Even the forms used by ordinary conception do
not take anything from the nature of the fundamental form, nor hinder this fund
amental form from being for man a form characterised by thought. The subject, sp
eaking generally, exists as something which thinks, it thinks this Idea, and yet
it is concrete self-consciousness. This Idea must exist for the subject as conc
rete self-consciousness, as an actual subject.
Or it may be put thus the Idea in its first form is the absolute truth, while in
its subjective form it exists for thought ; but not only must the Idea be truth
for the subject, the subject on its part must have the certainty of the Idea, i
.e., the certainty which belongs to this subject as such, as finite, as a subjec
t which is empirical, concrete, and belonging to the sphere of sense.
The Idea possesses certainty for the subject, and the subject has this certainty
only in so far as the Idea is actually perceived, in so far as it exists for th
e subject. If I can say of anything, " that is," then it possesses certainty for
me, this is immediate knowledge, this is certainty. The next form of mediation
consists in proving that what is is likewise necessary, that it is true, that it
is something certain. This accordingly is the transition to the Universal.
By starting from the form of truth, we have reached the definite thought that th
is form possesses certainty, that it exists for me.
The other mode of viewing the advance of the Idea to manifestation is to regard
it from the side of the Idea itself.
i. Eternal Being, in-and-for-itself, is something which unfolds itself, determin
es itself, differentiates itself, posits itself as its own difference, but the d
ifference, again, is at the same time eternally done away with and absorbed ; wh
at has essential Being, Being in-and-for-itself, eternally returns to itself in
this, and only in so far as it does this is it Spirit.
What is differentiated is determined in such a way that the difference directly
disappears, and so, that this is seen to be a relation of God merely to Himself,
of the Idea merely to itself. This act of differentiation is merely a movement,
a playing of love with itself, in which it does not get to be otherness or Othe
r-Being in any serious sense, nor actually reach a condition of separation and d
ivision.
The Other is defined as the Son, as love regarded from the side of feeling, or,
defined from a higher point of view, as Spirit which is not outside of itself, w
hich is with itself, which is free. In this determination, the determination of
difference is not yet complete so far as the Idea is concerned. What we have her
e is merely abstract difference in general, we have not yet got to difference in
the form which peculiarly belongs to it ; difference here is only one character
istic or determination amongst others.
In this respect we can say that we have not yet got the length of difference. Th
e things differentiated are considered to be the same ; we have not yet reached
that determination according to which the things differentiated should have a di
fferent determination. Eegarded from this side, we have to think of the judgment
or differentiating act of the Idea as implying that the Son gets the determinat
ion of the Other as such, that He exists as a free personality, independently or
for Himself, that He appears as something real outside of and apart from God, a
s something, in fact, which actually is.
His ideality, His eternal return into essential Being, is posited in the Idea in
its first form as immediate and identical. In order that there may be differenc
e, and in order that it may be properly recognised, it is necessary to have the
element of Otherness, necessary that what is thus distinguished should appear as
Otherness which is possessed of Being.
It is only the absolute Idea which determines itself, and which, in determining
itself, is inwardly certain that it is absolutely free in itself ; and in thus d
etermining itself it implies that what is thus determined is allowed to exist as
something which is free, as something independent, as an independent object. Th
e Free exists only for the Free, and it is only for free men that an other is fr
ee too.
The absolute freedom of the Idea means that in determining itself, in the act of
judgment, or differentiation, it grants the free independent existence of the O
ther. This Other, as something thus allowed to have an independent existence, is
represented by the World taken in a general sense. The absolute act of judgment
which gives independence to that aspect of Being called Other-Being might also
be called Goodness, which bestows upon this side of Being in its state of estran
gement the whole Idea, in so far as and in the way in which it is able to receiv
e and represent the Idea.
2. The truth of the world is its ideality only, and does not imply that it posse
sses true reality ; it is involved in its nature that it should be, but only in
an ideal sense ; it is not something implicitly eternal, but, on the contrary, i
t is something created, its Being is something which has been merely posited, or
is dependent on something else.
The Being of the world means that it has a moment of Being, but that it annuls t
his separation and estrangement from God, and that it is its true nature to retu
rn to its source, to get into a relationship of Spirit or Love.
We thus get the Process of the world which implies a passing from the state of r
evolt and separation to that of reconciliation. What first appears in the Idea i
s merely the relation of Father and Son ; but the Other also comes to have the c
haracteristic of Other-Being or otherness, of something which is.
It is in the Sou, in the determination or specifying of the difference, that an
advance is made to further specification in the form of more differences, and th
at difference gets its rights, the right of being different. Jacob Bohme describ
ed this transition in the stage represented by the Son as follows : The first an
d Only-begotten was Lucifer, the light-bearer, clearness, brightness, but he ima
ged himself in himself, i.e., posited au independent existence for himself, adva
nced to a condition of Being, and so to a state of revolt, and that then the ete
rnal and Only-begotten was immediately put in his place.
Eegarded from the first of the two standpoints, the relation is that God exists
in His eternal truth, and this is thought of as the state of things which existe
d before time was, as the state in which God was when the blessed spirits and th
e morning stars, the angels, His children, sang His praises. The relation thus e
xisting is described as a state, but it is an eternal relation of thought to its
object. Later on a revolt occurred, as it is expressed, and this is the positin
g of the second standpoint, the one side of the truth represented by the analysi
s of the Son, the keeping apart of the two moments which are contained in Him."
The other side, again, is represented by subjective consciousness, the finite sp
irit, and this as pure thought is regarded as implicitly the Process which found
its starting-point in the Immediate, and raised itself to the condition of trut
h. This is the second form.
We thus enter the sphere of determination, enter space and the world of finite S
pirit. This may be more definitely expressed as a positing or bringing into view
of the determinations or specific qualities, as a difference which is momentari
ly maintained ; it is an act of going out on the part of God into finitude, an a
ct of manifestation in finitude, for finitude taken in its proper meaning, impli
es simply the separation of what is implicitly identical, but which maintains it
self in the act of separation. Regarded from the other side, that of subjective
Spirit, this is posited as pure thought, though it is implicitly a result, and t
his has to be posited as it is potentially in its character as the movement of t
hought, or, to put it otherwise, pure thought has to go into itself, and it is i
n this way that it first posits itself as finite.
Regarding the matter from this standpoint, this Other is not represented by the
Son, but by the external world, the finite world, which is outside of truth, the
world of finitude, in which the Other has the form of Being, and is yet in its
nature merely the erepov, the definite, the differentiated, the limited, the neg
ative.
The relation of these two spheres to the first may thus be defined by saying tha
t it is the same Idea potentially which is present, though with this different s
pecific form. The absolute act involved in that first judgment or act of differe
ntiation is implicitly the same as the second here referred to ; it is only in o
rdinary thought that the two are regarded as separate, as two absolutely distinc
t spheres and acts.
And,as a matter of fact, they have to be distinguished and kept separate ; and w
hen it is said that they are implicitly the same, we must carefully define the s
ense in which this is to be understood, else we may get a false meaning and an i
ncorrect conception, implying that the eternal Son of the Father, the Godhead wh
o exists objectively for Himself, is the same as the world, and that we are to u
nderstand by the former nothing more than what we mean by the latter.
It has been already remarked, and is, indeed, selfevident, that it is only the I
dea of God as previously unfolded in what was called the first sphere which is t
he true and eternal God, while His higher realisation and manifestation in the d
etailed process of Spirit is what is treated of in the third sphere.
When the world in its immediate form is taken as something which has an essentia
l existence of its own, and when the sensuous and the temporal are regarded as h
aving Being, then either the false meaning before referred to is attached to wha
t is thus predicated of them, or else we are, at the very outset, forced to thin
k of there being two eternal acts on the part of God. God's active working, howe
ver, is emphatically one and the same, and does not show itself in manifold form
s of varying activity, such as is expressed by the terms now, after, separate, &
c.
Thus this differentiation when it takes the form of independence is merely the n
egative moment of OtherBeing in an independent form or for itself, or of Being e
xternal to itself, which as such has no truth, but is merely a stage, and regard
ed from the point of time is merely a moment, and not even a moment, but somethi
ng which possesses this kind of independence only as contrasted with finite Spir
it, inasmuch as it itself as actually existing represents this kind and mode of
independence. In God Himself this Now, this independent existence or Being-for-s
elf, is the vanishing moment of manifestation. and depth which belong to a world
; it is heaven and earth, with all their infinite organisation, internal and ex
ternal. When, accordingly, we say that the Other is a vanishing moment ; that it
is merely the gleam of the lightning-flash, which, in appearing, directly disap
pears ; that it is the sound of a word, which, in being spoken and heard, disapp
ears so far as its outward existence is concerned we are very apt, when we think
of things of this transitory sort, to have always before our minds the idea of
the momentary in time, with its before and after, and yet it is in neither of th
e two. "What we have really got to do is to get rid of that time-determination,
whether it be of duration or of the present, and merely to keep to the simple th
ought of the Other, the simple thought, for the Other is an abstraction. That th
is abstraction has actually taken an extended form in the world of space and tim
e is explained by the fact that it is the simple moment of the Idea itself, and
accordingly receives the Idea wholly into itself; but because it is the moment o
f otherness or OtherBeing it takes the form of immediate, material extension.
Questions as to whether the world or matter is eternal, and has existed from all
eternity, or has begun in time, belong to the empty metaphysics of the Understa
nding. In the phrase " from all eternity," eternity itself is represented in a f
igurative way as infinite time, in accordance with a false kind of infinitude, t
he infinitude and the determination being those of Reflection merely. It is the
world which is really the region of contradiction ; in it the Idea appears in a
specialised form which is inadequate to express it. As soon as the world enters
into the region of ordinary thought or figurative idea, the element of time come
s in, and next, by means of reflection, the infinitude or eternity referred to.
We must, however, understand that this characteristic in no way applies to the N
otion itself.
Another question, or what is partly the same question with a broader meaning, is
raised when it is said that the world or matter, inasmuch as it is regarded as
having existed from all eternity, is uncreated and exists immediately for itself
. The separation made by the Understanding between form and matter lies at the b
asis of this statement ; while the real truth is that matter and the world, rega
rded according to their fundamental characteristics, are this Other, the negativ
e, which is itself simply a moment or element of posited Being. This is the oppo
site of something independent, and the meaning of its existence is simply that i
t annuls itself and is a moment in the Process. The natural world is relative, i
t is Appearance, i.e., it is this not only for us, but implicitly, and it belong
s to its quality or character to pass over and return into the ultimate Idea. It
is in the determination of the independence of Other-Being that all the various
metaphysical determinations given to the v\n amongst the ancients, and also amo
ngst those Christians who indulged in philosophical speculations, the Gnostics p
articularly, have their root.
It is owing to the otherness or Other-Being of the world that this latter is sim
ply something created and has not a complete and independent Being, Being in-and
for-itself, and when a distinction is drawn between the beginning as creation an
d the preservation of what actually exists, this is done in accordance with the
ordinary conception which implies that such a material world is actually present
and is possessed of real Being. It has always been correctly held that since th
e world does not possess Being, an independence belonging to it in virtue of its
own nature, preservation is a kind of creation. But if we can say that creation
is also preservation, we would express ourselves thus merely in virtue of the f
act that the moment of Other-Being is itself a moment of the Idea, or else it wo
uld be presupposed, as was done previously, that something possessed of Being pr
eceded the act of creation. Thus inasmuch as Other-Being has been characterised
as the totality of appearance or manifestation, it expresses in itself the Idea,
and it is this which is really designated by the term, the wisdom of God. Wisdo
m is, however, so far a general expression, and it is the business of philosophi
cal knowledge to understand this conception in Nature, to conceive of it as a sy
stem in which the Divine Idea is mirrored. This Idea is manifested, but its cont
ent is just the manifestation, and consists in its distinguishing itself as an O
ther, and then taking back this Other into itself, so that the expression taking
back applies equally to what is done outside and inside. In Nature these stages
break up into a system of kingdoms of Nature, of which that of living things is
the highest.
Life, however, the highest form in which the Idea exhibits itself in Nature, is
simply something which sacrifices itself and whose essence is to become Spirit,
and this act of sacrifice is the negativity of the Idea as against its existence
in this form. Spirit is just this act of advance into reality by means of Natur
e, i.e., Spirit finds its antithesis, or opposite, in Nature, and it is by the a
nnulling of this opposition that it exists for itself and is Spirit.
The finite world is the side of the difference which is put in contrast with the
side which remains in its unity ; and thus it breaks up into the natural world
and into the world of finite Spirit. Nature enters into a relation with Man only
, and not on its own account into a relation with God, for Nature is not knowled
ge ; God is Spirit, but Nature knows nothing of Spirit.
Nature has been created by God, but she does not of herself enter into a relatio
n with God, by which is meant that she is not possessed of knowledge. She stands
in a relation to Man only, and in this relation to Man she represents what is c
alled the side of his dependence. In so far as she is known by thought to have b
een created by God, and to have understanding and reason in her, she is consciou
sly known by Man as a thinking being ; and she is put in relation with the Divin
e to the extent to which her truth or true nature is recognised. The discussion
of the manifold forms expressive of the relation of the finite spirit to Nature
does not belong to the philosophy of religion. Their scientific treatment forms
part of the Phenomenology of Spirit, or the Doctrine of Spirit. Here this relati
on has to be considered in so far as it comes within the sphere of religion, and
in such a way as to show that Nature is for Man not only the actual immediate e
xternal world, but a world in which Man knows God ; Nature is thus for Man a rev
elation of God. We have already seen how this relation of Spirit to Nature is pr
esent in the ethnic religions in which we encountered those forms which belong t
o the advance of Spirit from what is immediate to what is necessary and to the t
hought of something which acts wisely and in accordance with an end, Nature mean
while being regarded as contingent. Thus the consciousness of God on the part of
the finite spirit is reached through Nature, mediated by it. Man sees God by me
ans of Nature ; Nature is so far merely a veiling and imperfect embodiment of Go
d.
What is distinguished from God is here really an Other, and has the form of an O
ther or object; it is Nature which exists for Spirit and for Man. It is through
this that the unity of the two is to be brought about, and the consciousness att
ained that the end and the essential character of religion is reconciliation. Th
e first thing is the abstract act of becoming conscious of God, that Man raises
himself in Nature to God. This stage we saw represented in the proofs of the exi
stence of God, and connected with it, too, are those pious reflections as to how
gloriously God has made everything how wisely He has arranged all things. This
elevation of the soul takes it straight to God, and may start from any set of fa
cts. The pious mind makes edifying reflections upon what it sees, and beginning
with what is most insignificant and most special, recognises in it something whi
ch is essentially higher. Very often you find mixed up with these reflections th
e perverted notion that what goes on in the world of Nature is to be regarded as
belonging to a higher order of things than what is found in the human sphere. T
his way of looking at things, however, is inadequate, from the very fact that it
starts from what is individual or particular. "We may look at things in another
way which will be the opposite of this. The cause, it may be argued, must corre
spond to the phenomenon, and must itself contain the element of limitation which
belongs to the phenomenon ; we desire a particular ground or basis upon which t
his particular phenomenon is based. This element of inadequacy always attaches t
o the consideration of any particular phenomenon. Further, these particular phen
omena belong to the realm of the natural ; God, however, must be conceived of as
Spirit, and the element in which we recognise His presence must also be spiritu
al. " God thunders with His thunder," it is said, "and is yet not known." The sp
iritual man, however, demands something higher than what is merely natural. If G
od is to be known as Spirit, He must do more than thunder.
The truth is that we reach a higher mode of viewing Nature, and perceive the dee
per relation in which it must be placed in regard to God, when it is itself conc
eived of as spiritual, i.e., as something which is the natural side of Man's nat
ure. It is only when the subject ceases to be classed as belonging to the immedi
ate Being of the Natural, and is made to appear what it implicitly is, namely, m
ovement, and when it has gone into itself, that we get finitude as such, and fin
itude, in fact, as shown in the process of the relation in which the need of the
absolute Idea and its manifestation come to exist for it. "What comes first her
e is the necessity or need of truth, while the kind and manner of the manifestat
ion of the truth is what is second.
As regards the first point, the necessity for truth, it is presupposed that ther
e exists in subjective Spirit a demand to know the absolute truth. This necessit
y directly involves the supposition that the subject exists in a state of untrut
h ; as Spirit, however, the subject is at the same time implicitly raised above
this state of untruth, and for this reason its condition of untruth is one which
has to be surmounted.
Untruth more strictly defined means that the subject is in a state of alienation
from itself, and the need for truth so far expresses itself in the fact that th
is division or alienation is in the subject, and is just because of this also an
nulled by truth, that it is thus changed into reconciliation, and that this reco
nciliation which is within itself can only be a reconciliation with the truth.
This is the necessity or need of truth in its more strictly defined form. Its es
sential character implies that the alienation is really in the subject, that the
subject is evil, that it is inner division or alienation, inherent contradictio
n, not, however, contradiction of the mutually exclusive kind, but is something
which at the same time keeps itself together, and that the alienation takes plac
e only when it is an inner contradiction in the subject.
3. This reminds us that we are called on to define the nature or essential chara
cter of Man, and to show how it is to be regarded, how Man ought to regard it, a
nd what he has got to know of it.
And here we (i) at once meet with characteristics which are mutually opposed : M
an is by nature good, he is not divided against himself, but, on the contrary, h
is essence, his Notion, consists in this, that he is by nature good, that he rep
resents what is harmony with itself, inner peace ; and Man is ly nature evil. Th
e first of these characteristics thus means that Man is by nature good, that his
universal substantial essence is good ; the second characteristic is the opposi
te of this. This, then, to begin with, is the nature of these contrary propositi
ons, so far as we are concerned, and so far as the outward way of looking at thi
ngs is concerned. The next step is to perceive that we do not merely thus reflec
t upon things, but that Man has an independent knowledge of himself, and knows h
ow he is constituted and what is his essential character.
We have, to start with, the one proposition: Man is by nature good, what has no
element of division ; thus he has no need of reconciliation, and if reconciliati
on is not at all necessary, then the course of development we are considering he
re and this whole part of the subject are superfluous.
To say that Man is by nature good amounts substantially to saying that he is pot
entially Spirit, rationality, that he has been created in the image of God ; God
is the Good, and Man as Spirit is the reflection of God, he is the Good potenti
ally. It is just on this very proposition and on it alone that the possibility o
f his reconciliation rests ; the difficulty, the ambiguity is, however, in the p
otentiality.
Man is potentially good but when that is said everything is not said ; it is jus
t in this potentiality that the element of one-sidedness lies. Man is good poten
tially, i.e., he is good only in an inward way, good so far as his notion or con
ception is concerned, and for this very reason not good so far as his actual nat
ure is concerned.
Man, inasmuch as he is Spirit, must actually be, be for himself, what he truly i
s ; physical Nature remains in the condition of potentiality, it is potentially
the Notion, but the Notion does not in it attain to independent Being, to Being-
for-self. It is just in the very fact that Man is only potentially good that the
defect of his nature lies.
The potentiality of Nature is represented by the laws of Nature ; Nature remains
true to its laws, and does not go beyond them ; it is this which constitutes it
s substantiality, and just in consequence of this it is in the sphere of necessi
ty. But in contrast to this, Man must be actually, for himself, what he potentia
lly is, his potential being must come to be for him actual.
What is good by nature is good in an immediate way, and it is just the very natu
re of Spirit not to be something natural and immediate ; rather, it is involved
in the very idea of Man as Spirit that he should pass out of this natural state
into a state in which there is a separation between his notion or conception and
his immediate existence. In the case of physical Nature this separation of an i
ndividual thing from its law, from its substantial essence, does not occur, just
because it is not free.
What is meant by Man is, a being who sets himself in opposition to his immediate
nature, to his state of being in himself, and reaches a state of separation.
The other assertion made regarding Man springs directly from the statement that
Man must not remain what he is immediately ; he must pass beyond the state of im
mediacy ; that is the notion or conception of Spirit. It is this passing beyond
his natural state, his potential Being, which first of all forms the basis of th
e division or disunion, and in connection with which the disunion directly arise
s.
This disunion is a passing out of this natural condition or immediacy ; but we m
ust not take this to mean that it is the act of passing out of this condition wh
ich first constitutes evil, for, on the contrary, this passing out of immediacy
is already involved in the state of nature. Potentiality and the natural state c
onstitute the Immediate ; but because it is Spirit it is in its immediacy the pa
ssing out of its immediacy, the revolt or falling away from its immediacy, from
its potential Being.
This involves the second proposition : Man is by nature evil ; his potential Bei
ng, his natural Being, is evil. It is just in this his condition as one of natur
al Being that his defect is found ; because he is Spirit he is separated from th
is natural Being, and is disunion. One-sidedness is directly involved in this na
tural condition. When Man is only as he is according to Nature, he is evil.
The natural man is Man as potentially good, good according to his conception or
notion ; but in the concrete sense that man is natural who follows his passions
and impulses, and remains within the circle of his desires, and whose natural im
mediacy is his law.
He is natural, but in this his natural state he is at the same time a being poss
essed of will, and since the content of his will is merely impulse and inclinati
on, he is evil. So far as form is concerned, the fact that he is will implies th
at he is no longer an animal, but the content, the ends towards which his acts o
f will are directed, are still natural. This is the standpoint we are concerned
with here, the higher standpoint according to which Man is by nature evil, and i
s evil just because he is something natural.
The primary condition of Man, which is superficially represented as a state of i
nnocence, is the state of nature, the animal state: Man must be culpable ; in so
far as he is good, he must not be good as any natural thing is good, but his gu
ilt, his will, must come into play, it must be possible to impute moral acts to
him. Guilt really means the possibility of imputation.
The good man is good along with and by means of his will, and to that extent bec
ause of his guilt. Innocence implies the absence of will, the absence of evil, a
nd consequently the absence of goodness. Natural things and the animals are all
good, but this is a kind of goodness which cannot be attributed to Man ; in so f
ar as he is good, it must be by the action and consent of his will.
What is absolutely required is that Man should not continue to be a natural bein
g, to be natural will. Man, it is -true, is possessed of consciousness, but he c
an still be a natural being although he is Man, in so far as what is natural con
stitutes the end, the content, and the essential character of his acts of will.
It is necessary to view this characteristic in a stricter way. Man is Man as bei
ng a subject or person, and as a natural subject he is a definite single subject
, and his will is a definite single will ; particularity constitutes the content
of his will, i.e., the natural man is selfish.
We demand of the man who is called good that he should at least regulate his con
duct in accordance with general principles and laws. The naturalness of will is,
strictly speaking, the selfishness of will as distinguished from the universali
ty of will, and as contrasted with the rationality of the will which has been tr
ained to guide itself by universality. This Evil personified in a general way is
the Devil. This latter, as representing the Negative which wills itself, is bec
ause of this, self-identity, and must accordingly have the element of affirmatio
n also in him, as he has in Milton, where his energy, which is full of character
, makes him better than many an angel.
But the fact that Man in so far as he represents the natural will is evil, does
not imply that we can no longer regard him from the other point of view, accordi
ng to which he is potentially good. He always remains good, viewed in accordance
with his notion or conception ; but Man is consciousness, and is consequently e
ssentially differentiation, and therefore a real, definite subject as distinguis
hed from his notion ; and since this subject is, to begin with, merely distingui
shed from its notion, and has not yet returned into the unity of its subjectivit
y with the notion, into the rational state, this reality which it has is natural
reality, and that is selfishness.
The fact of evil directly presupposes a relation between reality and the Notion,
and consequently we thus get simply the contradiction which is in potential Bei
ng, the contradiction of the Notion and particularity, of Good and Evil. It is t
o put a false question to ask, Is Man good by nature, or is he not ? That is a f
alse position, and so, too, it is superficial to say, He is as much good as evil
.
In reference particularly to the statement that the will is caprice or arbitrary
will, and can will good or evil, it may be remarked that, as a matter of fact,
this arbitrary will is not will. It is will only in so far as it comes to a reso
lution, for in so far as it wills this or ' thaUit is not will. The natural will
is the will of the desires, of inclination which wills the immediate, and does
not as yet will anything definite, for in order to do that it would have to be r
ational will and be able to perceive that law is rational. What is demanded of M
an is that he should not be natural will, that he should not be as he is merely
by nature. The conception of volition is something different from this ; so long
as Man continues to exist ideally as will, he is only potentially will, he is n
ot yet actual will, he does not yet exist as Spirit. This is the truth in its un
iversal aspect ; the special aspect of it must here be left out of consideration
. We can speak of what belongs to the definite sphere of morality only when we a
re dealing with some particular condition in which Man is placed ; it has nothin
g to do with the nature of Spirit.
As opposed to the view that the will is evil, we have the fact that when we rega
rd Man in a concrete way we speak of volition, and this concrete, this actual el
ement cannot be simply something negative ; the evil will, however, is thought o
f as purely negative volition, and this is a mere abstraction. If Man is not by
nature what he should be, then he is implicitly rational, implicitly Spirit. Thi
s represents the affirmative element in him, and the fact that in the state of n
ature he is not what he ought to be, has reference accordingly only to the form
of volition, the essential point being that Man is potentially Spirit. This pote
ntiality persists when the natural will is being yielded up ; it is the Notion,
the persistent element, the self -producing element. When, on the other hand, we
speak of the will being evil by nature, we are thinking of the will in its nega
tive aspect merely. We thus have in our minds at the same time this particular c
oncrete element with which the abstraction referred to is in contradiction. We c
arry this so far that when we set up a Devil we have to show that there is somet
hing affirmative in him, strength of character, energy, consistency. When we com
e to the concrete we at once find that affirmative characteristics must show the
mselves present in it. In all this it is forgotten that when we speak of men the
y are thought of as men who have been educated and trained by customs, laws, &c.
People say, Men are, after all, not so bad just look round you ; but then the m
en round about us are men who are already educated ethically and morally, men al
ready reconstructed and brought into a certain state of reconciliation.
The main thing is, that in connection with religion we should not think of a mor
al condition, such as that of the child ; on the contrary, in any description of
the truth, what is essentially presented to us is the logical unfolding of the
history of what Man is. It is the speculative way of regarding things which rule
s here ; the abstract differences of the Notion are presented in successive orde
r. If it is the trained and cultured man who has to be studied, then the change
and reconstruction and discipline through which he has passed must necessarily a
ppear in him as representing the transition from natural volition to true voliti
on, and his immediate natural will must necessarily appear in this case as somet
hing which has been absorbed in what is higher.
(2.) If, therefore, the first characteristic means that Man in his immediate sta
te is not what he is intended to be, then we have to remember that Man has also
to reflect upon himself as he thus is ; the fact of his being evil is thus broug
ht into relation with reflection. This is readily taken to mean that it is only
in accordance with this knowledge he comes to be regarded as evil, so that this
reflection is a sort of external demand or condition implying that if he were no
t to reflect upon himself in this way the other characteristic, namely, that he
is evil, would drop away.
When this act of reflection is made a duty, then it may be so represented as to
suggest that it only is what is essential, and that there can be no content with
out it. Further, the relation of reflection is stated also in such a way as to i
mply that it is reflection or knowledge which makes man evil, so that it is evil
, and it is this knowledge which ought not to exist, and which is the source of
evil. In this way of representing it, we have the connection which exists betwee
n the fact of being evil and knowledge. This is a point of essential importance.

In its more definite form this idea of evil implies that Man becomes evil throug
h knowledge, or, as the Bible represents it, that he ate of the tree of knowledg
e. In this way, knowledge, intelligence, the theoretic element, and will enter i
nto a more definite relation, and the nature of evil gets to be discussed in a m
ore definite way. In this connection it may accordingly be remarked that as a ma
tter of fact it is knowledge which is the source of all evil, for knowledge or c
onsciousness is just the act by which separation, the negative element, judgment
, division in the more definite specific form of independent existence or Being-
for-self in general, comes into existence. Man's nature is not as it ought to be
; it is knowledge which reveals this to him, and brings to light that condition
of Being in which he ought not to be. This obligation which lies on him is his
Notion, and the fact that he is not what he should be originates first of all in
the sense of separation or alienation, and from a comparison between what he is
and what he is in his essential nature, in -and -for -himself. It is knowledge
which first brings out the contrast or antithesis in which evil is found. The an
imal, the stone, the plant is not evil; evil is first present within the sphere
of knowledge ; it is the consciousness of independent Being, or Being-for-self r
elatively to an Other, but also relatively to an Object which is inherently univ
ersal in the sense that it is the Notion, or rational will. It is only by means
of this separation that I exist independently, for myself, and it is in this tha
t evil lies. To be evil means in an abstract sense to isolate myself ; the isola
tion which separates me from the Universal represents the element of rationality
, the laws, the essential characteristics of Spirit. But it is along with this s
eparation that Being-for-self originates, and it is only when it appears that we
have the Spiritual as something universal, as Law, what ought to be.
It is therefore not the case that reflection stands in an external relation to e
vil, but, on the contrary, reflection itself is evil. This is the condition of c
ontrast to which Man, because he is Spirit, must advance ; he has, in fact, to b
e independent or for himself in such a way that he has as his object something w
hich is his own object confronting him, which exists for him, the Good, the Univ
ersal, his essential or ideal character. Spirit is free, and freedom has within
itself the essential element of the disunion referred to. It is in this disunion
that independent Being or Being-for-self originates, and it is in it that evil
has its seat ; here is the source of the evil, but here also the point which is
the ultimate source of reconciliation. It is at once what produces the disease,
and the source of health. We cannot, however, better illustrate the character an
d mode of this movement of Spirit than by referring to the form it takes in the
story of the Fall.
Sin is described by saying that Man ate of the tree of knowledge, &c. This impli
es the presence of knowledge, division, disunion in which good as existing for M
an first shows itself, but, as a consequence, evil too. According to the story i
t is forbidden to eat of the tree, and thus evil is represented in a formal way
as the transgression of a divine command, which might have had anykind of conten
t. Here, however, it is just the knowledge referred to which essentially constit
utes the command. It is upon this that the rise of consciousness depends, but it
is at the same time to be thought of as a standpoint at which consciousness can
not rest, but which is to be absorbed in something higher, for consciousness mus
t not remain at that point at which Being-for-self is in a state of disunion. Th
e serpent further says that Man by the act of eating would become equal to God,
and by speaking thus he made an appeal to Man's pride. God says to Himself, Adam
is become as one of us. The serpent had thus not lied, for God confirms what it
said. A great deal of trouble has been taken with the explanation of this passa
ge, and some have gone the length of explaining it as irony. The truer explanati
on, however, is that the Adam referred to is to be understood as representing th
e second Adam, namely, Christ. Knowledge is the principle of spiritual life, but
it is also, as was remarked, the principle of the healing of the injury caused
by disunion. It is in fact this principle of knowledge which supplies also the p
rinciple of man's divineness, a principle which by a process of selfadjustment o
r elimination of difference must reach a condition of reconciliation or truth ;
or, in other words, it involves the promise and certainty of attaining once more
the state in which Man is the image of God. We find such a prophecy expressed p
ictorially in what God says to the serpent, " I will put enmity, &c." Since the
serpent represents the principle of knowledge as something existing independentl
y outside of Adam, it is clearly perfectly logical that Man, as representing con
crete knowledge, should have in himself the other side of the truth, that of con
version and reflection, and that this other side should bruise the head of the s
erpent as representing the opposite side.
This is what the first man is represented as having actually done, but here agai
n we are using the language of sense ; the first man, considered from the point
of view of thought, signifies Man as Man, not any individual accidental single m
an out of many, but the first man absolutely, Man regarded in accordance with hi
s conception or notion. Man as such is consciousness, and consequently he enters
into this state of disunion consciousness, namely, which when it gets a more sp
ecific character is knowledge.
In so far as the universal man is represented as the first man, he is distinguis
hed from other men, and so the question arises : It is only this particular indi
vidual who has done the evil deed, how, then, has it affected others ? Here acco
rdingly we have the popular conception of inheritance, and by means of it the de
fect which attaches to the representation of Man as such, as an individual first
man, is corrected.
Division or disunion is essentially implied in the conception of Man ; the one-s
ided view involved in the representation of his act as the act of one individual
is thus changed into a complete view by the introduction of the idea of communi
cated or inherited evil.
Work, &c., is declared to be the punishment of sin, and this from a general poin
t of view is a necessary consequence.
The animal does not work, it works only when compelled, it does not work by natu
re, it does not eat its bread in the sweat of its brow, it does not produce its
own bread; it directly finds in Nature satisfaction for all the needs it has. Ma
n, too, finds the material for doing this ; but the material, we may say, is for
Man the least important part ; the infinite means whereby he satisfies his need
s come to him through work.
"Work done in the sweat of his brow, both bodily work, and the work of the spiri
t, which is the harder of the two, is immediately connected with the knowledge o
f good and evil. That Man must make himself what he is, that he must eat his bre
ad in the sweat of his brow, that he must produce the nature which is his, belon
gs to what is essential to and most distinctive of Man, and is necessarily conne
cted with the knowledge of good and evil.
The story further describes how the tree of life also stood in the garden ; and
the representation of this fact is of a simple and childlike character. The Good
towards which men direct their wishes is of two kinds. Man wishes, on the one h
and, to live in undisturbed happiness, in harmony with himself and outward Natur
e ; the animal continues in this condition of unity, but Man has to pass beyond
it ; his other wish practically is to live eternally and it is in accordance wit
h these wishes that this pictorial conception has been constructed.
When we consider this representation of primitive man more closely, it is at onc
e seen to be of a merely childlike sort. Man as an individual living thing, his
individual life, his natural life, must die. But when we look more narrowly at t
he narrative, this is seen to be the wonderful part of it, the self-contradictor
y element in it.
In this contradiction Man is characterised as having an existence of his own, as
being for himself. Beingfor-self, in its character as consciousness, self-consc
iousness, is infinite self -consciousness, abstractly infinite. The fact that li
e is conscious of his freedom, of his absolutely abstract freedom, constitutes h
is infinite Beingfor-self, which did not thus come into consciousness in the ear
lier religions in which the contrast or opposition did not get to this absolute
stage, nor attain to this depth. Owing to the fact that this has happened here,
the worth or dignity of Man is directly put on a much higher level. The subject
has hereby attained absolute importance ; it is essentially an object of interes
t to God, since it is self-consciousness which exists on its own account. It app
ears as the pure certainty of itself within itself, there exists in it a centre
or point of infinite subjectivity; it is certainly abstract, but it is abstract
essential Being, Being in-and-for-self. This takes the form of the assertion tha
t Man as Spirit is immortal, is an object of God's interest, is raised above fin
itude and dependence, above external circumstances, that he has freedom to abstr
act himself from everything, and this implies that he can escape mortality. It i
s in religion that the immortality of the soul is the element of supreme importa
nce, because the antithesis involved in religion is of an infinite kind.
What is mortal is what can die ; what is immortal is what can reach a state in w
hich death cannot enter. Combustible and incombustible are terms implying that c
ombustion is a possibility merely, which attaches to the object in an external w
ay. The essential character of Being is not, however, a possibility after this f
ashion, but, on the contrary, is an affirmative determinate quality which it alr
eady now possesses in itself.
Thus the immortality of the soul must not be represented as first entering the s
phere of reality only at a later stage ; it is the actual present quality of Spi
rit ; Spirit is eternal, and for this reason is already present. Spirit, as poss
essed of freedom, does not belong to the sphere of things limited ; it, as being
what thinks and knows in an absolute way, has the Universal for its object ; th
is is eternity, which is not simply duration, as duration can be predicated of m
ountains, but knowledge. The eternity of Spirit is here brought into consciousne
ss, and is found in this reasoned knowledge, in this very separation, which has
reached the infinitude ofBeing-forself, and which is no longer entangled in what
is natural, contingent, and external. This eternity of Spirit in itself means t
hat Spirit is, to begin with, potential ; but the next standpoint implies that S
pirit ought not to continue to be merely natural Spirit, but that it ought to be
what it is in its essential and complete nature, in-and-for-self. Spirit must r
eflect upon itself, and in this way disunion arises, it must not remain at the p
oint at which it is seen not to be what it is potentially, but must become adequ
ate to its conception or notion, it must become universal Spirit. Kegarded from
the standpoint of division or disunion, its potential Being is for it an Other,
and it itself is natural will ; it is divided within itself, and this division i
s so far its feeling or consciousness of a contradiction, and there is thus give
n along with it the necessity for the abolition of the contradiction.
On the one hand, it is said that Man in Paradise without sin would have been imm
ortal immortality on earth and the immortality of the soul are not separated in
this statement and would have lived for ever. If this outward death is to be reg
arded as merely a consequence of sin, then he would be implicitly immortal ; on
the other hand, we have it also stated in the story that it was not till Man sho
uld eat of the tree of life that he was to become immortal.
The matter, in fact, stands thus. Man is immortal in consequence of knowledge, f
or it is only as a thinking being that he is not a mortal animal soul, and is a
free, pure soul Eeasoned knowledge, thought, is the root of his life, of his imm
ortality as a totality in himself. The animal soul is sunk in the life of the bo
dy, while Spirit, on the other hand, is a totality in itself.
The next thing is, that this idea which we have reached in the region of thought
should take an actual shape in Man, i.e., that Man should come to see the infin
ite nature of the opposition, of the opposition, that is, between good and evil,
that he should know himself to be evil in so far as he is something natural, an
d thus become conscious of the antithesis, not merely in general, but as actuall
y existing in himself, and see that it is he who is evil, and realise that the d
emand that the Good should be attained, and consequently the consciousness of di
sunion and the feeling of pain because of the contradiction and opposition, have
been awakened in him.
We have found the form of the opposition in all religions ; but the opposition b
etween Man and the power of Nature, between Man and the moral law, the moral wil
l, morality, fate, is an opposition of a subordinate kind, involving opposition
merely in reference to some particular thing.
The man who transgresses a commandment is evil, but he is evil only in this part
icular case, he is in a condition of opposition only in reference to this specia
l commandment. We saw that in the Persian religion good and evil stood to each o
ther in a relation of general opposition ; there the opposition is outside of Ma
n, who is himself outside of it. This abstract opposition is not present within
himself.
It is accordingly required that Man should have this abstract opposition within
himself and overcome it, not merely that he should not obey this or the other co
mmand, since the truth rather really is that he is implicitly evil, evil in his
universal character, in his most inward nature, purely evil, evil in his inner b
eing, and that this quality of evil represents the essential quality of his conc
eption, and that he has to become conscious of this.
(3.) It is with this depth of Spirit that we are concerned. Depth means the abst
raction of the opposition, the pure universalisatiou of the opposition, so that
its two sides acquire this absolutely universal character in reference to each o
ther.
This opposition has, speaking generally, two forms : on the one hand, it is the
opposition of evil as such, implying that it is the opposition itself which is e
vil this is the opposition viewed in reference to God ; on the other hand, it is
opposition as against the world, implying that it is out of harmony with the wo
rld this is misery, the condition of division or disunion viewed from the other
side. In order that the need of universal reconciliation, and as a part of this
divine reconciliation, absolute reconciliation in Man, should arise, it is neces
sary that the opposition should get this infinite character, and that it should
be seen that this universality comprises Man's most inward nature, that there is
nothing which is outside of this opposition, that the opposition is not of a pa
rticular kind. This is the deepest depth.
(a.) We have first to consider the relation in which the disunion stands to one
of the extremes, namely, to God. Man is inwardly conscious that in the depths of
his being he is a contradiction, and thus there arises an infinite feeling of s
orrow in reference to himself. Sorrow is present only where there is opposition
to what ought to be, to an affirmative. What is no longer in itself an affirmati
ve has no contradiction, no sorrow in it either ; sorrow is just negativity in t
he Affirmative, it means that the Affirmative is something self-contradictory, t
hat it is wounded by its own act.
This sorrow is the one element of evil. Evil existing simply by itself is an abs
traction, it exists only in opposition to good ; and since it is present in the
unity of the subject, the feeling of opposition in reference to this disunion co
nstitutes infinite sorrow. If the consciousness of good did not thus exist in th
e subject itself, and if the infinite demand made by good was not present in the
inmost being of the subject, then there would be no sorrow there, evil itself w
ould be an empty nothing ; it is present only in this antithesis or opposition.
Both evil and this sorrow can be infinite only when good, God, is known as one G
od, as a pure spiritual God, and it is only when good is this pure unity, when w
e have belief in one God, and only in connection with such a belief, that the ne
gative can and must advance to this determination of evil, and that the negation
also can advance to this condition of universalitv. The one side of this disuni
on thus becomes apparent by the elevation of Man to the pure spiritual unity of
God. This sorrow and this consciousness represent Man's descent into himself, an
d consequently into the negative moment of disunion or evil.
This is the negative, or inward, descent or absorption into evil ; inward absorp
tion of an affirmative kind is absorption into the pure unity of God. When this
stage is reached, it is seen that I as a natural man do not correspond to what r
epresents the truth, and that I am entangled in the multiplicity of natural part
icular thing?, and just as the truth of the one Good is present in me with an in
finite certainty, so this want of correspondence gets a determinate character as
something which ought not to be.
The problem, the demand, is of an infinite kind. It may be said that since I am
a natural man I have from one point of view a consciousness of myself; but to be
in a state of nature means that I am without consciousness in reference to myse
lf, means the absence of will ; I am a being of the kind which acts in accordanc
e with Nature, and so far regarded from this side I am, as is often said, innoce
nt, I have, so far, no consciousness of what I do, I am without any will of my o
wn, what I do I do without definite inclination, and allow myself to be surprise
d into doing it by impulse.
Here, however, in this state of opposition this innocence disappears. For it is
just this natural, unconscious, and will-less Being of Man which ought not to be
, and it is consequently determined to evil in presence of the pure unity, the p
erfect purity which I know as representing the True and the Absolute. In putting
it thus we imply that when this point has been reached it is essentially this v
ery unconsciousness and absence of will which is to be considered as evil.
The contradiction, however, still remains, turn it how you will. Since this so-c
alled innocence characterises itself as evil, the want of correspondence between
myself and the Absolute, my inadequacy to express my essence, remain, and thus,
from whichever side I regard myself, I always know myself to be something which
ought not to be.
This expresses the relation in reference to the one extreme, and the result, thi
s sorrow in a more definite form, is my humility, the feeling of contrition, the
fact that I experience sorrow because I as a natural being do not correspond to
what I at the same time know myself to be in my knowledge and will.
(5.) As regards the relation to the other extreme, the separation appears in thi
s case in the form of misery arising from the fact that Man does not find satisf
action in the world. His desire for satisfaction, his natural wants have no long
er any rights, any claims to be satisfied. As a natural being, Man stands relate
d to an Other, and that Other is related to him in the form of forces, and his e
xistence is to this extent contingent, just as that of other things is.
The demands of his nature, however, in reference to morality, the higher moral c
laims of his nature, are demands and determinations of freedom. In so far as the
se demands, which are implicitly legitimate, and are grounded in his notion or c
onception for he knows about the Good, and the Good is in him do not find their
satisfaction in the existing order of things, in the external world, he is in a
state of misery.
It is misery which drives Man into himself, forces him back into himself, and be
cause this fixed demand that the world should be rational exists in him, he give
s up the world, and seeks happiness, satisfaction, in himself, as the harmony of
the affirmative side of his nature with himself. Because he seeks after this, h
e gives up the external world, transfers his happiness into himself, and finds s
atisfaction in himself.
"We had this demand and this unhappiness in the two following forms. We saw how
the sorrow which comes from universality, from above, was found amongst the Jewi
sh people ; in connection with it there is ever present the infinite demand for
absolute purity in my natural existence, in my empirical willing and knowing. Th
e other form they took, the retreat from misery into self, represents the standp
oint at which the Roman world arrived and where it ended, namely, the universal
misery of the world.
We saw how this formal inwardness which finds satisfaction in the world, this do
minion as being the aim or end of God, was represented, and known, and thought o
f as worldly dominion. Both of these aspects of the truth are one-sided ; the fi
rst may be defined as the feeling of humiliation, the other is the abstract elev
ation of Man in himself, of Man as self-centred. Thus it is Stoicism or Sceptici
sm.
According to the Stoical or Sceptical view, Man is driven back upon himself, he
has to find satisfaction in himself, in this state of independence ; in remainin
g inflexibly self-centred he has to find happiness, inner harmony of soul, he is
to rest in this abstract, present, self-conscious inwardness of his.
It is in this separation or disunion, as we have said, that the subject thus tak
es on a definite character, and conceives of itself as the extreme of abstract B
eing-forself, of abstract freedom ; the soul plunges into its depths, into its a
bsolute abyss. This soul is the undeveloped monad, the naked monad, the empty so
ul devoid of content ; but since it is potentially the Notion, the concrete, thi
s emptiness or abstraction stands in a relation of contradiction to its essentia
l character, which is, to be concrete.
Thus the universal element is represented by the fact that in this separation wh
ich develops into an infinite antithesis, the abstraction is to be done away wit
h and absorbed. This abstract " I " is also in itself, a will, it is concrete, b
ut the immediate element which is present in it and gives it substance is the na
tural will. The soul linds nothing in itself except desires, selfishness, &c. ;
and this is one of the forms of the opposition, that " I," as representing the s
oul in the depth of its nature, and the real side, are distinct from one another
, and in such a way that the real side is not something which has been made adeq
uate to express the Notion and is accordingly carried back to it, but, on the co
ntrary, finds in itself only the natural will.
The sphere of opposition in which the real side is further developed, is the wor
ld, and thus the unity of the Notion has opposed to it the natural will as a who
le, the principle of which is selfishness, and the realisation of which appears
in the form of depravity, cruelty, &c. The objectivity which this pure " I " has
, and which exists for it as something adequate to express it, is not found in t
he natural will, nor in the world either ; on the contrary, the objectivity whic
h adequately corresponds to it is the universal Essence only, that One which doe
s not find its realisation or fulness in it, and which has ail that supplies rea
lisation, or the world, confronting it.
Accordingly the consciousness of this opposition, of this division between the "
I " and the natural will, is that of an infinite contradiction. This "I" exists
in an immediate relation to the natural will and to the world, and at the same
time it is repelled by them. This is infinite sorrow, the world's Passion. The r
econciliation which we have hitherto found to be connected with this standpoint
is only partial, and for that reason unsatisfactory. The harmony of the " I " wi
thin itself, which it attains in the Stoic philosophy, is of a merely abstract k
ind ; it here knows itself as what thinks, and its object is what is thought, th
e Universal, and this is for it simply everything, the true essentiality, and th
us this has for it the value of something thought, and has value for the subject
as being what it itself has posited. This reconciliation is merely abstract, fo
r all determination lies outside of what is thus thought, and we have merely for
mal self-identity. Such an abstract kind of reconciliation cannot find, and ough
t not to find, a place in connection with this absolute standpoint, nor can the
natural will find satisfaction within itself either, for neither it nor the worl
d as it is can satisfy him who has become conscious of his infinity. The abstrac
t depth of the opposition demands an infinite suffering on the part of the soul,
and consequently a reconciliation which will be correspondingly complete.
These are the highest, most abstract moments, and the opposition or antithesis i
s the highest of all. The two sides represent the opposition in its most complet
e universality, in what is most inward, in the Universal itself, the two sides o
f the antithesis in the case in which the opposition goes deepest. Both sides ar
e, however, one-sided ; the first side contains the sorrow, the abstract humilia
tion referred to ; what is highest here is simply this inadequacy of the subject
to express the Universal, this division or disruption, which is not healed nor
adjusted, representing the opposition between an infinite on the one side, and a
fixed finitude on the other side. This finitude is abstract finitude ; anything
in this connection reckoned as belonging to me is, according to this way of loo
king at it, simply evil.
This abstraction finds its completion in the Other j this is thought in itself,
it implies that I am adequate to myself, that I find satisfaction in myself and
can be satisfied in myself. This second side is, however, actually just as one-s
ided, for it is merely the Affirmative, my selfaffirmation in myself. The first
side, the brokenness of heart, is merely negative, without affirmation in itself
; the second is meant to represent this affirmation, this satisfaction of self w
ithin self. This satisfaction of myself in myself, however, is a merely abstract
satisfaction reached by fleeing from the world, from reality, by passivity. Sin
ce this is a fleeing from reality, it is also a fleeing from my reality, not a f
leeing from external reality, but from the reality of my own volition.
The reality of my volition, I as a definite subject, the will in a realised form
, are no longer mine ; but what is left to me is the immediacy of my salf-consci
ousness, the individual self -consciousness. This is certainly completely abstra
ct, still this final point of the spirit's depth is contained in it, and I have
preserved myself in it.
This abstraction from my abstract reality is not in me or in my immediate self-c
onsciousness, in the immediacy of my self-consciousness. On this side, therefore
, it is affirmation which is the predominant factor, affirmation without the neg
ation of the one-sidedness of immediate Being. In the other case it is the negat
ion which is one-sided.
These are the two moments which contain the necessity for transition. The concep
tion or notion of the preceding religions has purified itself and thus reached t
his antithesis, and the fact that this antithesis or opposition has shown itself
to be, and has taken the form of, an actually existing necessity, is expressed
by the words, " When the time was fulfilled," i.e., Spirit, the demand of Spirit
, is actually present, Spirit which points the way to reconciliation.
(c.) Reconciliation. The deepest need of Spirit consists in the fact that the op
position in the subject itself has attained its universal, i.e., its most abstra
ct extreme. This is the division, the sorrow referred to. That these two sides a
re not mutually exclusive, but constitute this contradiction in one, is what dir
ectly proves the subject to be an infinite force of unity ; it can bear this con
tradiction. This is the formal, abstract, but also infinite energy of the unity
which it possesses.
What satisfies this need, we call the consciousness of reconcilement, the consci
ousness of the abolition, of the nullity of the opposition, the consciousness th
at this opposition is not the truth, but that, on the contrary, the truth consis
ts in reaching unity by the negation of this opposition, i.e., the peace, the re
conciliation which this need demands. Reconciliation is the demand of the subjec
t's sense of need, and is inherent in it as being what is infinitely one, what i
s self-identical.
This abolition of the opposition has two sides. The subject must come to be cons
cious that this opposition is not something implicit or essential, but that the
truth, the inner nature of Spirit, implies the abolition and absorption of this
opposition. Accordingly, just because it is implicitly, and, from the point of v
iew of truth, done away with in something higher, the subject as such in its Bei
ng-for-self can reach and arrive at the abolition of this opposition, that is to
say, can attain to peace or reconciliation.
i. The very fact that the opposition is implicitly done away with constitutes th
e condition, the presupposition, the possibility of the subject's ability to do
away with it actually. In this respect it may be said that the subject does not
attain reconciliation on its own account, that is, as a particular subject, and
in virtue of its own activity, and what it itself does ; reconciliation is not b
rought about, nor can it be brought about, by the subject in its character as su
bject.
This is the nature of the need when the question is, By what means can it be sat
isfied ? Eeconciliation can be brought about only when the annulling of the divi
sion has been arrived at ; when what seems to shun reconciliation, this oppositi
on, namely, is non-existent ; when the divine truth is seen to be for this, the
resolved or cancelled contradiction, in which the two opposites lay aside their
mutually abstract relation.
Here again, accordingly, the question above referred to once more arises. Can th
e subject not bring about this reconciliation by itself by means of its own acti
on, by bringing its inner life to correspond with the divine Idea through its ow
n piety and devoutness, and by giving expression to this in actions ? And, furth
er, can the individual subject not do this, or, at least, may not all men do it
who rightly will to adopt the divine Law as theirs, so that heaven might exist o
n earth, and the Spirit in its graciousness actually live here and have a real e
xistence ? The question is as to whether the subject can or cannot effect this i
n virtue of its own powers as subject. The ordinary idea is that it can do this.
What we have to notice here, and what must be carefully kept in mind, is that w
e are dealing with the subject thought of as standing at one of the two extremes
, as existing for itself. To subjectivity belongs, as a characteristic feature,
the power of positing, and this means that some particular thing exists owing to
me. This positing or making actual, this doing of actions, &c., takes place thr
ough me, it matters not what the content is ; the act of producing is consequent
ly a one-sided characteristic, and the product is merely something posited, or d
ependent for its existence on something else ; it remains as such merely in a co
ndition of abstract freedom. The question referred to consequently comes to be a
question as to whether it can by its act of positing produce this. This positin
g must essentially be a pre-positing, a presupposition, so that what is posited
is also something implicit. The unity of subjectivity and objectivity, this divi
ne unity, must be a presupposition so far as my act of positing is concerned, an
d it is only then that it has a content, a substantial element in it, and the co
ntent is Spirit, otherwise it is subjective and formal ; it is only then that it
gets a true, substantial content. When this presupposition thus gets a definite
character it loses its one-sidedness, and when a definite signification is give
n to a presupposition of this kind the one-sidedness is in this way removed and
lost. Kant and Fichte tell us that man can sow, can do good only on the presuppo
sition that there is a moral order in the world ; he does not know whether what
he does will prosper and succeed ; he can only act on the presupposition that th
e Good by its very nature involves growth and success, that it is not merely som
ething posited, but, on the contrary, is in its own nature objective. Presupposi
tion involves essential determination.
The harmony of this contradiction must accordingly be represented as something w
hich is a presupposition for the subject. The Notion, in getting to know the div
ine unity, knows that God essentially exists in-andfor-Himself, and consequently
what the subject thinks, and its activity, have no meaning in themselves, but a
re and exist only in virtue of that presupposition. The truth must therefore app
ear to the subject as a presupposition, and the question is as to how and in wha
t form the truth can appear in connection with the standpoint we now occupy ; it
is infinite sorrow, the pure depth of the soul, and it is for this sorrow that
the cancelling or solution of the contradiction has to exist. This cancelling ha
s, to begin with, necessarily the form of a presupposition, because what we have
here is a one-sided extreme.
What belongs to the subject, therefore, is simply this act of positing, action a
s representing merely one side ; the other side is the substantial and fundament
al one, which contains in it the possibility of reconciliation. This means that
this opposition does not really exist implicitly. To put it more correctly, it m
eans that the opposition springs up eternally, and at the same time eternally ab
olishes itself, is at the same time eternal reconciliation.
That this is the truth, we saw when dealing with the eternal divine Idea, which
implies that God as living Spirit distinguishes Himself from Himself, posits an
Other, and in this Other remains identical with Himself, and has in this other H
is self-identity with Himself.
This is the truth ; it is this truth which must constitute the one side of what
Man has to become conscious of, the potentially existing, substantial side. We m
ay express it in a more definite form by saying that the opposition is inadequac
y in general. The opposition, Evil, represents the natural aspect of human exist
ence and volition, or immediacy. This is just the mode of existence characterist
ic of the natural life ; it is just when we have immediacy that we have finitude
, and this finitude or natural life is inadequate to express the universality of
God, of the absolutely free, self -existent, infinite, eternal Idea.
This inadequacy is the starting-point which constitutes the need of reconciliati
on. The stricter definition of it would not consist in saying that the inadequac
y attaching to both sides disappears for consciousness. The v inadequacy exists;
it is involved in what is spiritual. Spirit means self-differentiation, the pos
iting or making explicit of differences.
If these are different, then, by the very fact that according to this moment the
y are differences, they are not alike; they are distinguished from each ether, t
hey do not correspond to each other. The inadequacy or want of correspondence ca
nnot disappear ; if it were to disappear then Spirit's power of judgment or diff
erentiation, its life, would disappear, in which case it would cease to be Spiri
t.
2. A further determination is reached when we say that, spite of this want of co
rrespondence, the identity of the two exists ; that otherness or Other-Being, fi
nitude, weakness, the frailty of human nature, cannot in any way impair the valu
e of that unity which forms the substantial element in reconciliation.
This, too, we recognised as present in the divine Idea ; for the Son is other th
an the Father, and this OtherBeing is difference, for if it were not, it would n
ot be Spirit.! But the Other is God, and has the entire fulness of the Divine na
ture in Himself. The characteristic of Other-Being in no way detracts from the v
alue of the fact that this Other is the Son of God, and is consequently God ; an
d so, too, it does not detract from the divine character of the Other as it appe
ars in human nature.
This otherness or Other-Being is Being which eternally annuls itself, which eter
nally posits itself and eternally annuls itself, and this self-positing and annu
lling of Other-Being is love or Spirit. Evil, as representing one side of Being,
has been defined simply as the Other, the finite, the negative, and God has bee
n placed on the other side as the Good, the True. But this Other, this negative,
contains within itself affirmation as well, and in finite Being it must come to
be consciously known that the principle of affirmation is contained in this Oth
er, and that there lies in this principle of affirmation the principle of identi
ty with the other side, just as God is not only the True, abstract self-identity
, but has in the Other, in negation, in the self-positing of the Other, His pecu
liarly essential characteristic, which is indeed the peculiar characteristic of
Spirit.
The possibility of reconciliation rests only on the conscious recognition of the
implicit unity of divine and human nature ; this is the necessary basis. Thus M
an can know that he has been received into union with God in so far as God is no
t for him something foreign to his nature, in so far as he does not stand relate
d to God as an external accident, but when he has been taken up into God in his
essential character, in a way which is in accordance with his freedom and subjec
tivity ; this, however, is possible only in so far as this subjectivity which be
longs to human nature exists in God Himself.
Infinite sorrow must come to be conscious of this implicit Being as the implicit
unity of divine and human nature, but only in its character as implicit Being o
r substantiality, and in such a way that this finitude, this weakness, this Othe
r-Being, in no way impairs the substantial unity of the two.
The unity of divine and human nature, Man in his universality, is the Thought of
Man, and the Idea of absolute Spirit in -and -for -itself. In the process also
in which Other-Being annuls itself, this Idea and the objectivity of God are imp
licitly real, and they are in fact immediately present in all men ; out of the c
up of the entire spirit-realm there foams for him infinitude. The sorrow which t
he finite experiences in being thus annulled and absorbed, does not give pain, s
ince it is by this means raised to the rank of a moment in the process of the Di
vine.
"Why should that trouble trouble us, since it makes our pleasure more ?"
Here, however, at the standpoint at which we now are, it is not with the Thought
of Man that we have got to do. Nor can we stop short at the characteristic of i
ndividuality in general, which is itself again universal, and is present in abst
ract thinking as such.
3. On the contrary, if Man is to get a consciousness of the unity of divine and
human nature, and of this characteristic of Man as belonging to Man in general ;
or if this knowledge is to force its way wholly into the consciousness of his f
initude as the beam of eternal light which reveals itself to him in the finite,
then it must reach him in his character as Man in general, i.e., apart from any
particular conditions of culture or training ; it must come to him as representi
ng Man in his immediate state, and it must be universal for immediate consciousn
ess.
The consciousness of the absolute Idea, which we have in thought, must therefore
not be put forward as belonging to the standpoint of philosophical speculation,
of speculative thought, but must, on the contrary, appear in the form, of certa
inty for men in general. This does not mean that they think this consciousness,
or perceive and recognise the necessity of this Idea ; but what we are concerned
to show is rather that the Idea becomes for them certain, i.e., this Idea, name
ly, the unity of divine and human nature, attains the stage of certainty, that,
so far as they are concerned, it receives the form of immediate sense-perception
, of outward existence in short, that this Idea appears as seen and experienced
in the world. This unity must accordingly show itself to consciousness in a pure
ly temporal, absolutely ordinary manifestation of reality, in one particular man
, in a definite individual who is at the same time known to be the Divine Idea,
not merely a Being of a higher kind in general, but rather the highest, the abso
lute Idea, the Son of God.
The expression, " the divine and human natures in One," is a harsh and awkward o
ne ; but we must forget the pictorial idea associated with it. What we have got
to think of in connection with it is the spiritual substantiality which it sugge
sts ; in the unity of the divine and human natures everything belonging to outwa
rd particularisation has disappeared ; the finite, in fact, has disappeared.
It is the substantial element in the unity of the divine and human natures of wh
ich Man attains the consciousness, and in such a way that to him Man appears as
God and God as Man. This substantial unity is Man's potential nature ; but while
this implicit nature exists for Man, it is above and beyond immediate conscious
ness, ordinary consciousness and knowledge ; consequently it must be regarded as
existing in a region above that subjective consciousness which takes the form o
f ordinary consciousness and is characterised as such.
This explains why this unity must appear for others in the form of an individual
man marked off from or excluding the rest of men, not as representing all indiv
idual men, but as One from whom they are shut off, though he no longer appears a
s representing the potentiality or true essence which is above, but as individua
lity in the region of certaintv. It is with this certainty and sensuous view tha
t we are concerned, and not merely with a divine teacher, nor indeed simply with
morality, nor even in any way simply with a teacher of this Idea either. It is
not with ordinary thought or with conviction that we have got to do, but with th
is immediate presence and certainty of the Divine ; for the immediate certainty
of what is present represents the infinite form and mode which the "Is" takes fo
r the natural consciousness. This Is destroys all trace of mediation ; it is the
final point, the last touch of light which is laid on. This Is is wanting in me
diation of any kind such as is given through feeling, pictorial ideas, reasons ;
and it is only in philosophical knowledge, by means of the Notion only in the e
lement of universality, that it returns again.
The Divine is not to be conceived of merely as a universal thought, or as someth
ing inward and having potential existence only ; the objectifying of the Divine
is not to be conceived of simply as the objective form it takes in all men, for
in that case it would be conceived of simply as representing the manifold forms
of the Spiritual in general, and the development which the Absolute Spirit has i
n itself and which has to advance till it reaches the form of what is the form o
f immediacy, would not be contained in it.
The One we find in the Jewish religion exists in thought, not in the form of sen
se-perception, and consequently has not reached the perfect form of Spirit. It i
s just this attaining of a complete and perfect form in Spirit which we call sub
jectivity, which endlessly alienates or estranges itself, and then from this abs
olute opposition, from the furthest point of manifestation, returns to itself.
The principle of individuality, it is true, was already present in the Greek ide
al, but there it was wanting just in that universal essentially existing infinit
ude ; the Universal as Universal is posited only in tlie subjectivity of conscio
usness ; it is this subjectivity only which is infinite inner movement, in which
all the determinateness of definite existence is cancelled, and which at the sa
me time is present in existence in its most finite form.
This individual, accordingly, who represents for others the manifestation of the
Idea, is a particular Only One, not some ones, for the Divine in some would bec
ome an abstraction. The idea of some is a miserable superfluity of reflection, a
superfluity because opposed to the conception or notion of individual subjectiv
ity. In the Notion once is always, and the subject must turn exclusively to one
subjectivity. In the eternal Idea there is only one Son, and thus there is only
One in whom the absolute Idea appears, and this One excludes the others. It is t
his perfect development of reality thus embodied ' in immediate individuality or
separateness which is the finest feature of the Christian religion, and the abs
olute transfiguration of the finite gets in it a form in which it can be outward
ly perceived.
This characteristic, namely, that God becomes Man, and consequently that the fin
ite spirit has the consciousness of God in the finite itself, represents what is
the most difficult moment of religion. According to a common idea, which we fin
d amongst the ancients particularly, the spirit or soul has been forced into thi
s world as into an element which is foreign to it ; this indwelling of the soul
in the body, and this particularisation in the form of individuality, are held t
o be a degradation of Spirit. In this is involved the idea of the untruth of the
purely material side, of immediate existence. On the other hand, however, the c
haracteristic of immediate existence is at the same time an essential characteri
stic, it is the final tapering point of Spirit in its subjectivity. Man has spir
itual interests and is spiritually active ; he can feel that he is hindered in c
onnection with these interests and activities ; in so far as he feels himself to
be in a condition of physical dependence, and has to provide for his own suppor
t, &c., his thoughts are taken away from his spiritual interests through his bei
ng bound to Nature. The stage of immediate existence is, however, contained in S
pirit itself. The essential characteristic of Spirit is that it should advance t
o this stage. The natural life is not simply an external necessity ; on the cont
rary, Spirit, as subject in its infinite reference to itself, has the characteri
stic of immediacy in it. In so far, accordingly, as the nature of Spirit happens
to be revealed to Man, the nature of God in the entire development of the Idea
must be revealed, and thus this form must also be present here, and that is just
the form of finitude. The Divine must appear in the form of immediacy. This imm
ediate presence is merely a presence of the Spiritual in that spiritual form whi
ch is the human form. This manifestation is not true when it takes any other for
m, certainly not when it is a manifestation of God in the burning bush, and the
like. God appears as an individual person to whose immediacy all kinds of physic
al necessities are attached. In Indian pantheism a countless number of incarnati
ons occur ; there subjectivity, human existence, is only an accidental form ; in
God it is simply a mask which Substance adopts and changes in an accidental way
. God as Spirit, however, contains in Himself the moment of subjectivity, of sin
gleness ; His manifestation, accordingly, can only be a single one, can take pla
ce only once.
In the Church Christ has been called the God-Man. This is the extraordinary comb
ination which directly contradicts the Understanding ; but the unity of the divi
ne and human natures has here been brought into human consciousness and has beco
me a certainty for it, implying that the otherness, or, as it is also expressed,
the finitude, the weakness, the frailty of human nature is not incompatible wit
h this unity, just as in the eternal Idea otherness in no way detracts from the
unity which God is.
This is the extraordinary combination the necessity of which we have seen. It in
volves the truth that the divine and human natures are not implicitly different.
God in human form. The truth is that there is only one reason, one Spirit, that
Spirit as finite has no true existence.
The substantiality of the form of manifestation is unfolded or made explicit. Be
cause it is the manifestation of God, it is essentially for the community of bel
ievers. Manifestation means Being for an Other, and this other is the community
of believers.
This historical manifestation may, however, be looked at in two different ways.
On the one hand, it may be held to be Man as he is in his outward condition in t
he sense of ordinary Man, the sense in which Man is taken in the irreligious way
of regarding this manifestation. Then, on the other hand, it may be looked at i
n spirit or in a spiritual way, and with the spirit, which presses on to reach i
ts truth, and which, just because it has this infinite division, this sorrow wit
hin itself, wills the truth, wills to have, and must have, the need of truth and
the certainty of truth. This is the true way of regarding the manifestation so
far as religion is concerned. We must distinguish between these two standpoints
the immediate way of looking at the question, and the way followed by faith.
By ^aitji this individual is known to possess divine nature, whereby God ceases
to be a Being beyond this world. When Christ is looked at in the same way as Soc
rates is, He is looked at as an ordinary man, just as the Mohammedans consider C
hrist as God's ambassador in the general sense in which all great men are God's
ambassadors or messengers. If we say nothing more of Christ than that He was a t
eacher of humanity, a martyr for the truth, we do not occupy the Christian stand
point, the standpoint of the true religion.
The one side is this human side, this appearance of one who was a living man. As
an immediate or natural man he is subject to the contingency which belongs to o
utward things, to all temporal relations and conditions ; he is born, as Man he
has the needs which all other men have except that he does not share in the corr
uption, the passions, the particular inclinations of men, in the special interes
ts of the worldly life in connection with which uprightness and moral teaching m
ay also find a place ; on the contrary, he lives only for the truth and the proc
lamation of the truth, his activity consists simply in fulfilling the higher con
sciousness of men.
It is to this human side, therefore, that the doctrine of Christ chiefly belongs
. The question is, How can such doctrine exist, and in what way is it formed ? T
he doctrine in its first form cannot have been composed of the same elements as
afterwards appeared in the doctrine of the Church. It must have certain peculiar
ities which in the Church of necessity partly receive another signification and
are partly dropped. Christ's teaching in its immediate form cannot be Christian
Dogmatics, cannot be Church-doctrine. When the Christian community has been set
up, when the Kingdom of God has attained reality and a definite existence, this
teaching can no longer have the same signification as before.
The principal contents of this teaching can only be general and abstract. If som
ething new, a new world, a new religion, a new conception of God, is to be given
to the world of ordinary thought, then the first thing needed is the general sp
here of ideas in which this can show itself, and the second thing is the particu
lar, the determinate, the concrete. The world of ordinary thought, in so far as
it thinks, thinks merely abstractly, it thinks only what is general ; it is rese
rved for Spirit, which comprehends things through the Notion, to recognise the p
articular in the general, and to see how this particular proceeds out of the Not
ion by its own power. For the world of ordinary or popular thought, the basis on
which universal Thought rests, and particularisation, development, are separate
d. This general or universal basis may therefore be made use of for the true not
ion of God, by means of doctrine.
Since what we have got to do with is a new consciousness on the part of men, a n
ew religion, it is for that reason the consciousness of absolute reconciliation
; this involves a new world, a new religion, a new reality, a world in a differe
nt condition, for it is religion which is the substantial element in external de
terminate Being or existence.
This is the negative or polemical side, as against continuance in this externali
ty on the part of the consciousness or faith of Man. The new religion declares i
tself to be a new consciousness, a consciousness of the reconciliation of Man wi
th God; this reconciliation as expressing a condition is the Kingdom of God, the
Eternal as the home of Spirit, a real world in which God reigns ; the spirits,
the hearts here are reconciled with Him, and thus it is God who has attained to
authority over them. This so far represents the general sphere or basis.
This Kingdom of God, the new religion, thus contains within itself the character
istic of negation in reference to all that is actual. This is the revolutionary
side of its teaching which partly throws aside all that actually exists, and par
tly destroys and overthrows it. All earthly and worldly things drop away as bein
g without value, and are expressly declared to be valueless. What has hitherto e
xisted is altered, the hitherto existing relations, the condition of religion an
d of the world, cannot remain as they have hitherto been. What, therefore, has t
o be done is to get Man who must reach a consciousness of reconciliation drawn o
ut of his present condition, and to get him to seek after this abstraction or wi
thdrawal from actual reality.
This new religion as yet concentrates itself, and does not actually exist as a c
hurch or community of believers, but shows itself rather in that energy which co
nstitutes the sole interest of the man who has to fight and struggle in order to
obtain this new condition, because it is not yet in harmony with the actual sta
te of the world, and is not yet brought into connection with his world-conscious
ness.
This new religion, therefore, on its first appearance presents a polemical aspec
t, involves a demand that finite things should be abandoned ; it demands that Ma
n should rise to the exercise of an infinite energy in which the Universal deman
ds that it should be laid hold of for its own sake, and in which all other ties
have to be treated as matters of indifferencej and all that had hitherto been re
garded as moral and right, all other ties, have to be put aside.
" Who is my mother and my brother ?" &c. " Let the dead bury their dead," &c. "
Whoever puts his hand to the plough and looks back is not fit for the Kingdom of
God." " I am come to bring a sword," &c. In these words we see how a polemic is
directed against all ordinary moral relations " Take no thought for the morrow,
" " Give your goods to the poor."
All those relations which have reference to property, disappear ; meanwhile they
in turn cancel themselves, for if everything is given to the poor then there ar
e no poor. All this represents doctrines and special characteristics which belon
g to the first appearance of the new religion when it constitutes man's sole int
erest, which he must believe he is as yet in danger of losing, and when its teac
hing is addressed to men with whom the world is done and who are done with the w
orld. The one side is represented by this renunciation ; this giving up, this sl
ighting of every substantial interest and of moral ties, is an essential charact
eristic of the concentrated manifestation of truth, a characteristic which subse
quently, when truth has attained a sure existence, loses some of its importance.
In fact, if this religion at its start as suffering, appears in relation to wha
t is outside of it as willing to endure, to yield, to submit to death, in course
of time, when it has grown strong, its inner energy will act towards what is ou
tside of it with a correspondingly violent display of force.
The next thing in the affirmative part of this religion is the proclamation of t
he Kingdom of God ; into this Kingdom, as representing the Kingdom of love to Go
d, Man has to transport himself, and he does this by directly devoting himself t
o the truth it embodies. This is expressed with the most absolute and startling
frankness, as, for instance, at the beginning of the so-called Sermon on the Mou
nt : " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." Words like these
are amongst the grandest that have ever been uttered. They represent a final cen
tral point in which all superstition and all want of freedom on Man's part are d
one away with. It is of infinite importance that, by Luther's translation of the
Bible, a popular book has been put into the hands of the people, in which the h
eart, the spirit can find itself at home in the very highest, in fact in an infi
nite way ; in Catholic countries there is in this respect a grave want. For Prot
estant peoples the Bible supplies a means of deliverance from all spiritual slav
ery.
There is no mention of any mediation in connection with this elevating of the sp
irit whereby it may become an accomplished fact in Man ; but, on the contrary, t
he mere statement of what is required implies this immediate Being, this immedia
te self-transference into Truth, into the Kingdom of God. It is to the intellect
ual and spiritual world, to the Kingdom of God, that Man ought to belong, and in
it it is feeling or moral disposition alone which has value, but not abstract f
eeling, not mere chance opinion, but that absolute feeling or disposition which
has its basis in the Kingdom of God. It is in connection with this Kingdom of Go
d that the infinite worth of inwardness first comes into view. This is proclaime
d in the language of enthusiasm, in tones so penetrating as to thrill the soul,
and, as Hermes the psychagogue did, to draw it out of the body and bear it away
beyond the temporal into its eternal home. " Seek first the Kingdom of God and H
is righteousness."
Along with this elevation above, and complete abstraction from all that the worl
d counts great, we everywhere find in Christ's teaching a lament over the degrad
ation of His nation, and of men in general. Jesus appeared at a time when the Je
wish nation, owing to the dangers to which its worship had been exposed and was
still exposed, was more obstinately absorbed in its observance than ever, and wa
s at the same time compelled to despair of seeing its hopes actually realised si
nce it had come in contact with a universal humanity, the existence of which it
could no longer deny, and which nevertheless was completely devoid of any spirit
ual element He appeared, in short, when the common people were in perplexity and
helpless.
" I thank Thee, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that Thou hast hid these thing
s from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes."
Accordingly, this substantial element, this universal divine heaven of the inner
life, leads, under the influence of reflection of a more definite kind, to mora
l commands which are the application of that universal element to particular cir
cumstances and situations. These commands, however, themselves partly apply only
to limited spheres of action, and are partly intended for those stages in which
we are occupied with absolute truth ; they contain nothing striking, or else th
ey are already contained in other religions and in the Jewish religion. These co
mmands are comprised in the command of Love as their central point, love which h
as for its aim, not the rights, but the well-being of the other, and thus expres
ses a relation to its particular object. " Love thy neighbour as thyself." This
command, thought of in the abstract and more extended sense as embracing the lov
e of men in general, is a command to love all men. Taken in this sense, however,
it is turned into an abstraction. The people whom one can love, and for whom ou
r love is real, are a few particular individuals ; the heart which seeks to embr
ace the whole of humanity within itself indulges in a vain attempt to spread out
its love until it becomes a mere idea, the opposite of real love.
Love, in the sense in which Christ understood it, is primarily moral love of our
neighbour in those particular relations in which we stand to him ; but, above a
ll, it is meant to express the relation existing between His disciples and follo
wers, the bond which makes them one. And here it is not to be understood as mean
ing that each is to have his particular occupation, interests, and relations in
life, and is further to love in addition to all this, but that this love, as som
ething apart which abstracts from all else, is to be the central point in which
they live, and is to constitute their business.
They are to love one another, nothing more or less, and consequently are not to
have any particular end in view whatever, ends connected with the family, politi
cal ends, nor are they to love because of these particular ends. Love, on the co
ntrary, is abstract personality, and the identity of this in one consciousness i
n which it is not any longer possible for special ends to exist. Here, therefore
, no other objective end exists unless this love. This love, which is independen
t, and which is thus made a centre, finally becomes the higher divine love itsel
f.
At first, however, this love, as a love which as yet has no objective end, also
takes up a polemical attitude to the existing order of things, especially to the
Jewish existing order. All those actions commanded by the Law by the doing of w
hich apart from love, men formerly estimated their moral worth, are declared to
be dead works, and Christ Himself heals on the Sabbath. The following moment or
determinate element accordingly enters into these doctrines. While this command
of love is directly expressed in the words, " Seek the Kingdom of God," abandon
yourself to the truth; and while the demand is made in this immediate way, it ap
pears as if in the form of a subjective statement, and so far the person speakin
g comes into view.
In accordance with this reference to a person, Christ does not speak as a teache
r merely who states his own subjective view, and who is conscious of what he pro
duces in the way of truth and of his own action in the matter, but as a prophet
; He is one who, since this demand is direct, utters the command directly from G
od, and as one out of whom God thus speaks.
The fact that this possession of this life of the spirit in truth is attained wi
thout intermediate helps, is expressed in the prophetic manner, namely, that it
is God who thus speaks. Here it is with absolute, divine truth, truth in-and-for
-itself, that we are concerned ; this utterance and willing of the truth in-and-
for-itself, and the carrying out of what is thus expressed, is described as an a
ct of God, it is the consciousness of the real unity of the divine will, of its
harmony with the truth. It is as conscious of this elevation of His spirit, and
in the assurance of His identity with God that Christ says, " Woman, thy sins ar
e forgiven thee." Here there speaks in Him that overwhelming majesty which can u
ndo everything, and actually declares that this has been done.
So far as the form of this utterance is concerned, what has mainly to be emphasi
sed is that He who thus speaks is at the same time essentially Man, it is the So
n of Man who thus speaks, in whom this utterance of the truth, this carrying int
o practice of what is absolute and essential, this activity on God's part, is es
sentially seen to exist as in one who is a man and not something superhuman, not
something which appears in the form of an outward revelation in short, the main
stress is to be laid on the fact that this divine presence is essentially ident
ical with what is human.
Christ calls Himself the Son of God and the Son of Man ; these titles are to be
taken in their strict meaning. The Arabs mutually describe themselves as the son
of a certain tribe ; Christ belongs to the human race ; that is His tribe. Chri
st is also the Son of God ; it is possible to explain away by exegesis the true
sense of this expression, the truth of the Idea, what Christ has been for His Ch
urch, and the higher Idea of the truth which has been found in Him in His Church
, and to say that all the children of men are children of God, or are meant to m
ake themselves children of God, and so on.
Since, however, the teaching of Christ taken by itself belongs to the world of o
rdinary figurative ideas only, and takes to do with inner feeling and dispositio
n, it is supplemented by the representation of the Divine Idea in His life and f
ate. That Kingdom of God, as constituting the content of Christ's teaching, is a
t first the Idea in a general form, represented as yet in a general conception ;
it is by means of this individual man that it enters into the region of reality
, so that those who are to reach that Kingdom can do it through that one individ
ual.
The primary point is, to start with, the abstract correspondence between the act
s, deeds, and sufferings of this teacher, and His own teaching, the fact that Hi
s life was wholly devoted to carrying it out, that He did not shun death, and th
at He sealed His faith by His death. The fact that Christ became a martyr for th
e truth has an intimate connection with His appearing thus on the earth. Since t
he founding of the Kingdom of God is in direct contradiction with the actually e
xisting State, which is based on a different view of religion, and which ascribe
s a different character to it, the fate of Christ, whereby to put it in human la
nguage He became a martyr for the truth, is in close connection with the manner
of His appearing above referred to. These are the principal elements in the mani
festation of Christ in a human form. This teacher gathered friends around Him. I
nasmuch as His doctrines were revolutionary Christ was accused and condemned, an
d so He sealed the truth of His teaching by His death. Even unbelief goes this l
ength in the view it takes of His history ; it is exactly similar to that of Soc
rates, only in different surroundings. Socrates, too, made men conscious of the
inwardness of their nature. His Saijmovtov is nothing else than this inner life.
He, too, taught that Man must not stop short with obedience to ordinary authori
ty, but form convictions for himself, and act in accordance with these convictio
ns. These two individualities are similar, and their fates are also similar. The
inwardness of Socrates was in direct opposition to the religious belief of his
nation, and to the form of government, and consequently he was condemned ; he, t
oo, died for the truth.
Christ lived merely amongst a different people, and His teaching has so far a di
fferent complexion. But the Kingdom of God and the idea of purity of heart conta
in an infinitely greater depth of truth than the inwardness of Socrates. This is
the outward history of Christ, which is for unbelief just what the history of S
ocrates is for us. ^ With the death of Christ, however, there begins the convers
ion of consciousness. The death of Christ is the central point round which all e
lse turns, and in the conception formed of it lies the difference between the ou
tward way of conceiving of it and Faith, i.e., regarding it with the spirit, tak
ing our start from the spirit of truth, from the Holy Spirit. According to the c
omparison above referred to, Christ is a man just like Socrates, a teacher who l
ived virtuously, and made men conscious of what is essentially true, of what mus
t constitute the basis of human consciousness. According to the higher way of re
garding the matter, however, the divine nature was revealed in Christ. This cons
ciousness is reflected in those passages which state that the Son knows the Fath
er, &c., expressions which, to begin with, have in themselves a certain generali
ty, and which exegesis can transfer to the region of general views, but which Fa
ith by its explanation of the death of Christ lays hold of in their true meaning
; for Faith is essentially the consciousness of absolute truth, of what God is
in His true nature. But we have already seen what God is in His true essential n
ature ; He is the life-process, the Trinity, in which the Universal puts itself
into antithesis with itself, and is in this antithesis identical with itself. Go
d in this element of eternity represents what encloses itself in union with itse
lf, the enclosing of Himself with Himself. Faith simply lays hold of the thought
and has the consciousness that in Christ this absolute essential truth is perce
ived in the process of its development, and that it is through Him that this tru
th has first been revealed.
This view represents, to begin with, the religious attitude as such, in which th
e Divine is itself an essential moment. This anticipation, this imagining, this
willing of a new Kingdom, " a new heaven and a new earth," of a new world, is fo
und amongst those friends and acquaintances who have been taught the truth ; thi
s hope, this certainty has made its way into the real part of their hearts, has
sunk into their inmost hearts as a reality.
Accordingly the Passion, the death of Christ does away with the human side of Ch
rist's nature, and it is just in connection with this death that the transition
is made into the religious sphere ; and here the question comes to be as to how
this death is to be conceived of. On the one hand, it is a natural death brought
about by injustice, hate, and violence ; on the other hand, however, believers
are already firmly convinced in their hearts and feelings that they are not here
 specially concerned with morality, with the thinking and willing of the subject
in itself or as starting from itself, but that the real point of importance is
an infinite relation to God, to God as actually present, the certainty of the Ki
ngdom of God, a sense of satisfaction not in morality, nor even in anything ethi
cal, nor in the conscience, but a sense of satisfaction beyond which there can b
e nothing higher, an absolute relation to God Himself.
All other modes of satisfaction imply that in some aspect or other they are of a
subordinate sort, and thus the relation of Man to God does not get beyond being
a relation to something above, and distant, to something, in fact, which is not
actually present at all. The fundamental characteristic of this Kingdom of God
is the presence of God, meaning that the members of this Kingdom are not only ex
pected to have love to men, but to have the consciousness that God is Love.
This implies, in fact, that God is present, and that this as personal feeling mu
st be the feeling of the individual Self. This aspect of the truth is represente
d by the Kingdom of God, or the presence of God, and it is to it that the certai
nty of the presence of God belongs. Since it is, on the one hand, a need, a feel
ing, the subject must, on the other hand, distinguish itself from it, must make
a distinction between this presence of God and itself, but in such a way that th
is presence of God will be something certain, and this certainty can actually ex
ist here only in the form of sensuous manifestation.
The eternal Idea itself means that the characteristic of subjectivity as real, a
s distinguished from what are simply thoughts, is permitted to appear in an imme
diate form. On the other hand, it is faith begotten by the sorrow of the world,
and resting on the testimony of the Spirit, which explains the life of Christ. T
he teaching of Christ and His miracles are conceived of and understood in connec
tion with this witness of the Spirit. The history of Christ is related, too, by
those upon whom the Spirit has been already poured out. The miracles are conceiv
ed of and related under the influence of this Spirit, and the death of Christ is
truly understood by this Spirit to mean that in Christ God is revealed together
with the unity of the Divine and human natures. Christ's death is accordingly t
he touchstone, so to speak, by means of which Faith verifies its belief, since i
t is essentially here that its way of understanding the appearance of Christ mak
es itself manifest. Christ's death primarily means that Christ was the God-Man,
the God who had at the same time human nature, even unto death. It is the lot of
finite humanity to die ; death is the most complete proof of humanity, of absol
ute finitude, and Christ in fact died the aggravated death of the evil-doer ; He
did not only die a natural death, but a death even of shame and dishonour on th
e cross ; in Him humanity was carried to its furthest point.
In connection with this death \ve have to notice first of all what is one of its
special characteristics, namely, its polemical attitude towards outward things.
Not only is the act whereby the natural will yields itself up here represented
in a sensible form, but all that is peculiar to the individual, all those intere
sts and personal ends with which the natural will can occupy itself, all that is
great and counted as of value in the world, is at the same time buried in the g
rave of the Spirit. This is the revolutionary element by means of which the worl
d is given a totally new form. And yet in this yielding up of the natural will,
the finite, the Other-Being or otherness, is at the same time transfigured. Othe
r-Being or otherness has in fact besides its immediate natural being a more exte
nded sphere of existence and a further determination. It belongs essentially to
the definite existence of the subject that it should exist for others ; the subj
ect exists not only on its own account or for itself, but exists also in the ide
a formed of it by others, it exists, has value, and is objective to the extent t
o which it is able to assert its claim to exist amongst others and has a valid e
xistence. Its validity is the idea formed of it by others, and is based on a com
parison with what they hold to be of value and what is regarded by them as posse
ssing the worth of something potential or essential.
Since, accordingly, the death of Christ, in addition to the fact that it is natu
ral death, is, further, the death of an evil-doer, the most degrading of all dea
ths, death upon the cross, it involves not only what is natural, but also civil
degradation, worldly dishonour; the cross is transfigured, what according to the
common idea is lowest, what the State characterises as degrading, is transforme
d into what is highest. Death is natural, every man must die. But since degradat
ion is made the highest honour, all those ties that bind human society together
are attacked in their foundations, are shaken and dissolved. When the cross has
been elevated to the place of a banner, and is made a banner in fact, the positi
ve content of which is at the same time the Kingdom of God, inner feeling is in
the very heart of its nature detached from civil and state life, and the substan
tial basis of this latter is taken away, so that the whole structure has no long
er any reality, but is an empty appearance, which must soon come crashing down,
and make manifest in actual existence that it is no longer anything having inher
ent existence. Imperial power, on its part, degraded all that was esteemed and v
alued by men. The life of every individual depended on the caprice of the Empero
r, and this caprice was not limited by anything either without or within. But, b
esides life, all virtue, worth, age, rank, race, everything, in short, was utter
ly degraded. The slave of the Emperor was next to him the highest power in the S
tate, or had even more power than the Emperor himself ; the Senate debased itsel
f in proportion as it was debased by the Emperor. Thus the majesty of world-empi
re, together with all virtue, justice, veneration for institutions and constitut
ed things, the majesty of everything, in short, held by the world as of value wa
s pitched into the gutter. Thus the temporal ruler of the earth, on his part, ch
anged what was highest into what was most despised, and fundamentally perverted
feeling, so that in man's inner life there no longer remained anything to set ag
ainst the new religion, which in its turn raised what had been most despised to
the place of what was highest, and made it a banner. Everything established, eve
rything moral, everything considered by ordinary opinion as of value and possess
ed of authority, was destroyed, and all that was left to the existing order of t
hings, towards which the new religion took up a position of antagonism, was the
purely external, cold power, namely, death, which life, ennobled by feeling that
in its inner nature it was infinite now, no longer in any way dreaded.
Now, however, a further determination comes into play God has died, God is dead,
this is the most frightful of all thoughts, that all that is eternal, all that
is true is not, that negation itself is found in God ; the deepest sorrow, the f
eeling of something completely irretrievable, the renunciation of everything of
a higher kind, are connected with this. The course of thought does not, however,
stop short here ; on the contrary, thought begins to retrace its steps : God, t
hat is to say, maintains Himself in this process, and the latter is only the dea
th t_ of death. God comes to life again, and thus things are reversed. The Eesur
rection is something which thus
This is the meaning of the resurrection and the ascension of Christ. Like all th
at goes before, this elevation of Christ to heaven outwardly appears for the imm
ediate or natural consciousness in the mode of reality. " Thou wilt not leave Th
y righteous one in the grave ; Thou wilt not suffer Thine Holy One to see corrup
tion." This is the form, too, in which this death of death, the overcoming of th
e grave, the triumph over the negative, and this elevation to heaven appear to s
ense-perception. This triumphing over the negative is not, however, a putting of
f of human nature, but, on the contrary, is its most complete preservation in de
ath itself and in the highest love. Spirit is Spirit only in so far as it is thi
s negative of the negative which thus contains the negative in itself. When, acc
ordingly, the Son of Man sits on the right hand of the Father, we see that in th
is exaltation of human nature its glory consists, and its identity with the divi
ne nature appears to the spiritual eye in the highest possible way. (From the sh
eets in Hegel's own handwriting belonging to the year 82.) essentially belongs t
o faith. After His resurrection Christ appeared only to His friends ; this is no
t outward history for unbelief, but, on the contrary, this appearing of Christ i
s for faith only. The resurrection is followed by the glorification of Christ ;
and the triumph of His exaltation to the right hand of God closes this part of H
is history, which, as thus understood by believing consciousness, is the unfoldi
ng of the Divine nature itself. If in the first division of the subject we conce
ived of God as He is in pure thought, in this second division we start from imme
diacy as it exists for sense perception and for ideas based on sense. The proces
s is accordingly this, that immediate particularity is done away with and absorb
ed ; and just as in the first region of thought, God's state of seclusion came t
o an end, and His primary immediacy as abstract universality, according to which
He is the Essence of Essences, was annulled, so here the abstraction of humanit
y, the immediacy of existing particularity, is annulled, and this is brought abo
ut by death ; the death of Christ, however, is the death of death, the negation
of the negation. We have had in the Kingdom of the Father the same course and pr
ocess in the unfolding of God's nature ; here, however, the process is explained
in so far as it is an object for consciousness. For here there existed the impu
lse to form a mental picture of the divine nature. In connection with the death
of Christ we have finally to emphasise the moment according to which it is God w
ho has killed death, since He comes out of the state of death : this means that
finitude, human nature, and humiliation are attributed to Christ as something fo
reign to His nature, which is that of one who is God pure and simple ; it is sho
wn that fiuitude is something foreign to His nature, and has been adopted by Him
from an Other; this Other is represented by men who stand over against the divi
ne process. It is their finitude which Christ has taken upon Himself, this finit
ude in all its forms, and which at its furthest extreme is represented by Evil ;
this humanity, which is itself a moment in the divine life, is now characterise
d as something foreign to God, as something which does not belong to His nature
; this finitude, however, in its condition of Being-for-self, or as existing ind
ependently in relation to God, is evil, something foreign to God's nature ; He h
as, however, taken our finite nature in order to slay it by His death. His shame
ful death, as representing the marvellous union of these absolute extremes, is a
t the same time infinite love.
It is a proof of infinite love that God identified Himself with what was foreign
to His nature in order to slay it. This is the signification of the death of Ch
rist. Christ has borne the sins of the world, He has reconciled God to us, as it
is said.
This death is thus at once finitude in its most extreme form, and at the same ti
me the abolition and absorption of natural finitude, of immediate existence and
estrangement, the cancelling of limits. This abolition and absorption of the nat
ural is to be conceived of in a spiritual sense as essentially meaning that the
movement of Spirit consists in comprehending itself in itself, in dying to the n
atural, that it is therefore abstraction from immediate volition and immediate c
onsciousness, an act of sinking into itself, and then an act whereby it itself d
raws out of this depth into which it has plunged what is merely its own specific
character, its true essence, and its absolute universality. What has for it wor
th, and all that constitutes its value, it finds only in this abolition of its n
atural Being and will. The suffering and the sorrow connected with this death wh
ich contains this element of the reconciliation of Spirit with itself and with w
hat it potentially is, this negative moment which belongs to Spirit only as Spir
it, is inner conversion and change. Here, however, death is not brought before u
s with this concrete meaning, but is represented as natural death, for in the Di
vine Idea that negation cannot be exhibited under any other form. When the etern
al history of Spirit exhibits itself in an outward way, in the sphere of the nat
ural, Evil which realises itself in the Divine Idea can appear only in the form
of the Natural, and thus the reversion which takes place can have only the form
of natural death. The Divine Idea cannot proceed beyond this characteristic of t
he natural. This death, however, although it is natural, is the death of God, an
d thus sufficient as an atonement for us, since it exhibits the absolute history
 of the Divine Idea, what has implicitly taken place and takes place eternally.
That the individual man does something, attains to something, and accomplishes i
t, is owing to the fact that this is how the matter stands regarding the true re
ality looked at from the point of view of its Notion. The fact, for example, tha
t any particular criminal can b3 punished by the judge, and that this punishment
is the carrying out and expiation of the law, does not imply that it is the jud
ge who does this, or that the criminal does it by undergoing the punishment as a
particular outward event ; but, on the contrary, what takes place is in accorda
nce with the nature of the thing or true fact, with the necessity of the Notion.
We thus have this process before us in a double form : on the one hand, we have
it in thought, in the idea embodied in law, and in the Notion ; and, on the oth
er, in one particular instance, and in this particular instance the process is w
hat it is because this belongs to the nature of the thing, and apart from this n
either the action of the judge nor the suffering undergone by the criminal would
represent the punishment inflicted by the law and the expiation it demands. The
fundamental reason, the substantial element, belongs to the nature of the thing
.
Accordingly this is how it stands, too, with that satisfaction or atonement for
us above referred to, i.e., what lies at the basis of that idea is that this ato
nement has actually and completely taken place, has taken place in-and-for-itsel
f ; it is not a strange sacrifice, a sacrifice of what is foreign to man which h
as been offered, it is not an Other who has been punished in order that there mi
ght be punishment. Each one must for himself, starting from his own subjectivity
and responsibility, do and be what he ought to be. But what he thus is for hims
elf must not be anything accidental, or be his own caprice ; it must, on the con
trary, be something true. When he thus accomplishes within himself this conversi
on and the yielding up of the natural will, and lives in love, this represents t
he essential fact, the thing inand-for-itself. His subjective certainty, his fee
ling, is truth, it is the truth and the nature of the Spirit. The basis of redem
ption is thus contained in the history spoken of, for it represents the essentia
l thing or fact, the thing as it is in-and-for-itself ; it is not an accidental
special act and occurrence, but is true and complete. This proof of its truth is
the pictorial view given of it in the history referred to, and according to tha
t representation the individual lays hold of, appropriates the merit of Christ.
It is not, however, the history of one individual ; on the contrary, it is God w
ho accomplishes what is told in it ; i.e., the view which it gives is that this
history is the universal and absolute history, the history which is for itself.
Other forms, for example, of the sacrificial offering, with which is connected t
he false idea that God is a tyrant who desires sacrifice, reduce themselves to t
hat conception of sacrifice which has been stated, and are to be corrected by it
. Sacrifice means the abolition and absorption of naturalness, of Otherness. It
is further said that Christ died for all, and this does not represent an individ
ual act, but the divine eternal history. It is said in the same way that in Him
all have died. This is itself a moment in the nature of God ; it has taken place
in God Himself. God cannot find satisfaction through anything other than Himsel
f, but only through Himself. This death is love itself, expressed as a moment of
God, and it is this death which brings about reconciliation. In it we have a pi
cture of absolute love. It is the identity of the Divine and the human, it impli
es that in the finite God is at home with Himself, and this finite as seen in de
ath is itself a determination belonging to God. God has through death reconciled
the world, and reconciled it eternally with Himself. This comingback from the s
tate of estrangement is His return to Himself, and it is because of it that He i
s Spirit, and the third point accordingly is that Christ has risen. Negation is
consequently surmounted, and the negation of the negation is thus a moment of th
e Divine nature.
Suffering and dying taken in this sense are ideas opposed to the doctrine of mor
al imputation according to which each individual has to stand for himself only,
and each is the doer of his own deeds. The fate of Christ seems to contradict th
is imputation ; this imputation, however, has a place only in the sphere of fini
tude, where the subject is regarded as a single person, and not in the sphere of
free Spirit. The characteristic idea in the region of finitude is that each rem
ains what he is ; if he has done evil, he is evil ; evil is in him as representi
ng his quality. But already in the sphere of morality, and still more in that of
religion, Spirit is known to be free, to be affirmative in itself, so that the
element of limit in it which gets the length of evil is a nullity for the infini
tude of Spirit ; Spirit can make what has happened as if it had not happened ; t
he action certainly remains in the memory, but Spirit puts it away. Imputation,
therefore, does not reach to this sphere. For the true consciousness of Spirit t
he finitude of Man is slain in the death of Christ. This death of the natural ge
ts in this way a universal signification, the finite, evil, in fact, is destroye
d. The world is thus reconciled, and through this death the world is implicitly
freed from its evil. It is in connection with a true understanding of the death
of Christ that the relation of the subject as such in this way comes into view.
Here any mere outward consideration of the history ceases ; the subject is itsel
f drawn into the process ; it feels the pain of evil and of its own alienation,
which Christ has taken upon Himself by putting on humanity, while at the same ti
me destroying it by His death.
Since the content, too, just consists in this, we have here the religious side o
f the subject, and it is in it that the Spiritual Community, or the Church, firs
t originates. This content is the same thing as what is termed the outpouring of
the Holy Spirit. It is Spirit which has revealed this ; the relation to men sim
ply as men is changed into a relation which is altered and transformed into a re
lation which is entirely one of Spirit, and is of such a kind that the nature of
God unfolds itself in it, and this truth comes to have immediate certainty in a
ccordance with the form of outward manifestation.
Here, accordingly, he who at first was regarded as a teacher, a friend, a martyr
, comes to have a totally different position. Up to this point we have had simpl
y the beginning, which is now carried forward by the Spirit so as to form a resu
lt, an end, truth. The death of Christ is in one aspect the death of a man, of a
friend who met his death by violence, &c. ; but then it is just this death whic
h, when conceived of in a spiritual way, becomes the means of salvation and the
central point of reconciliation.
The perception of the nature of Spirit, that is, the presentation of the satisfa
ction of the need of Spirit, in a sensuous way, was accordingly what was disclos
ed to the friends of Christ only after His death. Thus the conviction concerning
Him which it was possible for them. to get from a study of His life was not yet
the real truth ; but, on the contrary, it was the Spirit which first showed the
m the truth.
Before His death He appeared to them as an individual under the limitations of s
ense ; the real disclosure of what He was was given to them by the Spirit, of wh
om Christ said, " He will lead you into all truth." " That will first be the tru
th into which the Spirit will lead you."
Regarded in this aspect this death consequently assumes the character of a death
which is the transition to glory, to a glorified state, which, however, is mere
ly a restoration of the original glorified state. The death, the negative, is th
e mediating element implying that the original state of majesty is thought of as
having been reached. The history of the resurrection and exaltation of Christ t
o the right hand of God forms part of the history of His death when this comes t
o have a spiritual signification.
Thus it came about that this little community of believers attained the sure con
viction : God has appeared in the form of Man ; this humanity in God, and this h
umanity in its most abstract form, the most complete dependence, weakness in its
most extreme form, the final stage of frailty, is just what we have in natural
death.
" God Himself is dead," as it is said in a Lutheran hymn ; the consciousness of
this fact expresses the truth that the human, the finite, frailty, weakness, the
negative, is itself a divine moment, is in God Himself ; that otherness or Othe
r-Being, the finite, the negative, is not outside of God, and that in its charac
ter as otherness it does not hinder unity with God ; otherness, the negation, is
consciously known to be a moment of the Divine nature. The highest knowledge of
the nature of the Idea of Spirit is contained in this thought.
This outward negative changes round in this way into the inner negative. Eegarde
d in one aspect the meaning, the signification attached to death is that in it t
he human element has been stripped ofi', and the divine glory comes again into v
iew. But death is itself at the same time also the negative, the furthest point
of that experience to which man as a natural being and consequently God Himself
are exposed. this whole history men have attained to the consciousness of a trut
h, and this is the truth which they have reached, namely, that^the Idea of God h
as come to be a certainty for them, that the human is God as immediate and prese
nt, and this indeed means that we have in this history, as understood by Spirit,
the actual representation of the process of what constitutes Man or Spirit.^ Ma
n as potentially God and deac[ that is the mediation whereby the human element i
s discarded ; or, regarded from another point of view, what has potential or ess
ential Being returns to itself and by this act first comes to be Spirit. i Itvis
with the consciousness of the Spiritual Community, which thus makes the transit
ion from man pure and simple to a God-man, and to a perception, a consciousness;
a certainty of the unity and union of the Divine and human natures, that the Ch
urch or Spiritual Community begins, and it is this consciousness which constitut
es the truth upon which the Spiritual Community is founded. *
This then is the explication of the meaning of reconciliation, that God is recon
ciled with the world, or rather that God has shown Himself to be by His very nat
ure reconciled with the world, that what is human is not something alien to His
nature, but that this otherness, this self-differentiation, finitude, as it is s
ometimes expressed, is a moment in God Himself, though, to be sure, it is a vani
shing moment ; still He has in this moment revealed and shown Himself to the Chu
rch.
This is the form which the history of God's manifestation takes for the Church ;
this history is a divine history whereby it reaches a consciousness of the trut
h. It is this which creates the consciousness, the knowledge, that God is a Trin
ity.
The reconciliation believed in as being in Christ has no meaning if God is not k
nown as Trinity, if it is not recognised that He is but is at the same time the
Other, the self-differentiating, the Other in the sense that this Other is God H
imself and has potentially the divine nature in it, and that the abolishing of t
his difference, of this otherness, this return, this love, is Spirit.
This consciousness involves the truth that faith does not express relation to an
ything which is an Other, but relation to God Himself. These are the moments wit
h which we are here concerned, and which express the truth that Man has come to
a consciousness of that eternal history, that eternal movement which God Himself
is.
This is the description of the second Idea as Idea in outward manifestation, and
of how the eternal Idea has come to exist for the immediate certainty of Man, i
.e., of how it has appeared in history. The fact that it is a certainty for men
necessarily implies that it is material or sensuous certainty, but one which at
the same time passes over into spiritual consciousness, and for the same reason
is converted into immediate sensuousness, but in such a way that we recognise in
it the movement, the history of God, the life which God Himself is.

III.
THE IDEA IN THE ELEMENT OF THE CHURCH OR SPIRITUAL COMMUNITY, OR, THE KINGDOM OF
SPIRIT.
What was first dealt with was the notion or conception of this standpoint for co
nsciousness ; what came second was what was supplied to this standpoint, what ac
tually exists for the Spiritual Community ; the third point is the transition in
to this Community itself.
This third sphere represents the Idea in its specific character as individuality
; but, to begin with, it exhibits only the one individuality, the divine, unive
rsal individuality as it is in-and-for-itself. One is thus all ; once is always,
potentially, from the point of view of the Notion, it is simple determiuateness
. But individuality in its character as independent Being, Being-for-self, is th
is act of allowing the differentiated moments to reach free immediacy and indepe
ndence, it shuts them off from each other ; individuality just means that it has
at the same time to be empirical individuality.
Individuality as exclusive is for others immediacy, and is the return from the O
ther into self. The individuality of the Divine Idea, the Divine Idea as a perso
n, first attains to completeness in reality, since at first it has the many indi
viduals confronting it, and brings these back into the unity of Spirit, into the
Church or Spiritual Community, and exists here as real, universal self-consciou
sness.
It is just in connection with the act whereby the definite transition of the Ide
a to the sensuous present is accomplished that we have what is most distinctive
in the religion of Spirit, namely, that all the moments are developed till they
have reached definiteness and completeness in their most external forms. But eve
n in this condition of extreme opposition Spirit is certain of itself as being a
bsolute truth, and consequently it is afraid of nothing, not even of the sensuou
s present. It is part of the cowardice of abstract thought that it shuns the sen
suous present in a monkish fashion ; modern abstraction takes up this attitude o
f fastidious gentility towards the moment of the sensuous present.
It is next required of the individuals in the Community or Church that they shou
ld revere the Divine Idea in the form of individuality, and appropriate it to th
emselves. For the tender, loving disposition, that of woman, this is easy ; but
then, on the other side, we are confronted with the fact that the subject on whi
ch this demand is made is in a condition of infinite freedom, and has come to un
derstand the substantiality of its self -consciousness ; for the independent Not
ion, the man, this demand is accordingly infinitely hard. The freedom of the sub
ject rebels against the thought of reverencing a single sensuous individual as G
od, and against the combination which this implies. The Oriental does not hesita
te to comply with this demand, but then he is nothing, he is implicitly thrown a
side as of no value, without, however, having thrown himself aside, i.e., withou
t having the consciousness of infinite freedom in himself. Here, however, this l
ove, this recognition of the Divine in an individual is the direct opposite of t
his, and is just what constitutes the supreme miracle, that miracle which Spirit
itself just is.
This region is accordingly the Kingdom of Spirit, implying that the individual i
s of infinite value in himself, knows himself to be absolute freedom, possesses
in himself the most rigid fixedness, and at the same time yields up this fixedne
ss and maintains himself in what is absolutely an Other. Love harmonises all thi
ngs, even absolute opposition.
The pictorial conception of this religion demands the despising of all that pres
ently exists, of everything which is otherwise regarded as possessed of value, i
t is that perfect ideality which takes up a polemical attitude towards all the g
lory of the world; in this single person, in this present immediate individual i
n whom the Divine Idea appears, everything that belongs to the world has met tog
ether, so that it is the individual sensuous present which has value. This indiv
iduality or particularity is consequently to be regarded as absolutely universal
. Even in ordinary love we find this infinite abstraction from all worldly thing
s, and the loving person centres all his satisfaction in one particular individu
al ; but this satisfaction still belongs essentially to particularity; it is par
ticular contingency and feeling which opposes itself to the Universal, and desir
es in this way to become objective.
In contrast to this, that individuality in which I will the Divine Idea, is pure
ly universal, it is for this reason directly removed from the sphere of the sens
es, it passes away of itself, becomes part of a history that is past, this sensu
ous mode must disappear and mount into the region of idea or mental representati
on. One of the constituent parts of the formation of the Church is that this sen
suous form passes over into a spiritual element. The mode in which this purifica
tion from immediate Being takes place implies that the sensuous element in it is
preserved ; the fact that it passes away is negation, as this is posited in and
appears in one particular sensuous individual as such. It is only in a single i
ndividual that this sensuous representation is found, it is not something which
can be inherited, and is not capable of renewal as the manifestation of substanc
e in the Lama is, it cannot appear in such a way because the sensuous manifestat
ion as a definite individual manifestation is in its nature momentary ; it has t
o be spiritualised, and is therefore essentially a manifestation that has alread
y been, and so is raised to the region of idea or mental representation.
It is possible also to occupy a standpoint at which we do not get beyond the Son
and His appearance in time. This is the case in Catholicism, in which the inter
cession of Mary arid the Saints is added to the reconciling power of the Son, an
d where the Spirit is present, rather in the Church as a hierarchy merely, and n
ot in the Community of believers. Here, however, the second element in the speci
fication of the Idea is not so much spiritualised, but rather remains in the reg
ion of ordinary thought. Or to put it otherwise, Spirit is not so much known as
objective, but merely as the particular subjective form in which it appears in t
he sensuous present as the Church and lives in tradition. Spirit in this outward
form of reality is, as it were, the Third Person.
For the spirit which stands in need of it, the sensuous present can be given a p
ermanent existence in pictures, though these are not indeed works of art, but ar
e rather miracle-working pictures, regarded, that is to say, as existing in a de
finite material form. It follows from this that it is not merely the corporeal f
orm and the body of Christ which is able to satisfy the sensuous need, but rathe
r the sensuous aspect of His bodily presence in general, the cross, the places i
n which He moved about, and so on. To this, relics, &c., come to be added. There
is no lack of such mediate means of satisfying the craving felt. For the Spirit
ual Community, however, the immediate Present, the Now, is past and gone. The se
nsuous idea accordingly, above all, integrates the Past, views it from the point
of view of the whole, for it the Past is a one-sided moment ; the Present conta
ins the Past and the Future in it as moments. Thus the sensuous idea finds the c
ompletion of its representation in the Second Advent, but the essentially absolu
te return is the act of exchanging externality for what is inward : this is the
Comforter who can come only when sensuous history as immediate is past.
This, therefore, is the point represented by the formation of the Spiritual Comm
unity, or the third point ; it is the Spirit. It represents the transition from
what is outward, from outward manifestation to what is inward. It occupies itsel
f with the certainty felt by the subject of its own infinite non-sensuous substa
ntiality, and of the fact that it knows itself to be infinite and eternal, knows
itself to be immortal.
The retreat into inner self-consciousness which is involved in this conversion i
s not of the Stoical kind, the value of which consists in the fact that it accom
plishes this through the strength of the individual spirit as exercising thought
, and seeks for the reality of thought in Nature, in natural things and in compr
ehending these, and which consequently is devoid of infinite sorrow and stands a
t the same time in a thoroughly positive relation to the world. On the contrary,
it takes the form of the self -consciousness which endlessly yields up its part
icularity and individuality, and finds its infinite value only in that love whic
h is contained in infinite sorrow and arises out of it. All immediacy in which M
an might find some worth is thrown away ; it is in mediation alone that he finds
such value, but of an infinite kind, and in which subjectivity becomes truly in
finite and has an essential existence, is in-and-for-itself. It is only through
this mediation that Man is not immediate, and thus at first he is capable merely
of having such value ; but this capacity and possibility is his positive, absol
ute, essential nature or characteristic.
This characteristic contains the reason why the immortality of the soul becomes
a definite doctrine in the Christian religion. The soul, the individual soul, ha
s an infinite, an eternal quality, namely, that of being a citizen in the Kingdo
m of God. This is a quality and a life which is removed beyond time and the Past
; and since it is at the same time opposed to the present limited sphere, this
eternal quality or determination eternally determines itself at the same time as
a future. The infinite demand to see God, i.e., to become conscious in spirit o
f His truth as present truth, is in this temporal Present not yet satisfied so f
ar as consciousness in its character as ordinary consciousness is concerned.
The subjectivity which has come to understand its infinite worth has thereby aba
ndoned all distinctions of authority, power, position, and even of race ; before
God all men are equal. It is in the negation of infinite sorrow that love is fo
und, and there, too, are first found the possibility and the root of truly unive
rsal Right, of the realisation of freedom. The Roman formal life of right or jus
tice starts from the positive standpoint and from the Understanding, and has no
principle whereby to maintain absolutely the standpoint of Right, but is thoroug
hly worldly.
This purity of subjectivity which passes out of infinite sorrow by mediating its
elf in love, is reached simply by that mediation which has its objective form an
d pictorial representation in the sufferings, death, and exaltation of Christ. R
egarded from another point of view, this subjectivity likewise possesses this mo
de of its reality in itself, inasmuch as it is a multiplicity of subjects and in
dividuals; but since it is implicitly universal and is not exclusive, the multip
licity of individuals has to be absolutely posited as having merely the appearan
ce or show of reality, and the very fact that it posits itself as this show of r
eality is what constitutes the unity of faith, according to the ordinary idea fo
rmed by faith, and therefore in this third thing. This is the love of the Spirit
ual Community, which seems to consist of many individuals, while this multiplici
ty is merely a semblance or illusion.
This love is neither human love, love of persons, the love of the sexes, nor fri
endship. Surprise has often been expressed that such a noble relationship as fri
endship is does not find a place amongst the duties enjoined by Christ. Friendsh
ip is a relationship which is tinged with particularity, and men are friends not
so much directly as objectively rather through some substantial bond of union,
in a third thing, in fundamental principles, studies, knowledge ; the bond, in s
hort, is constituted by something objective ; it is not attachment as such, like
that of the man to the woman as a definite particular personality. The love of
the Spiritual Community, on the other hand, is directly mediated by the worthles
sness of all particularity. The love of the man for the woman, or friendship, ca
n certainly exist, but they are essentially characterised as subordinate ; they
are characterised not indeed as something evil, but as something imperfect ; not
as something indifferent, but as representing a state in which we are not to re
main permanently, since they are themselves to be sacrificed, and must not in an
y way injuriously affect that absolute tendency and unity which belong to Spirit
.
The unity in this infinite love springing out of infinite sorrow is consequently
in no way a sensuous, worldly connection of things, not a connection of the par
ticularity and naturalness which may still remain over and be held to have value
, but unity in the Spirit simply, the love, in fact, which is just the notion or
conception of Spirit itself. It is an object for itself in Christ as representi
ng the central point of faith, in which it appears to itself in an infinite, far
-off loftiness. But this loftiness is at the same time an infinite nearness to t
he subject, something peculiar to it and belonging to it, and thus what at first
comprised individuals as a Third is also what constitutes their true self-consc
iousness, their most inner and individual character. Thus this love is Spirit as
such, the Holy Spirit. It is in them, and they are and constitute the universal
Christian Church, the Communion of saints. Spirit is infinite return into self,
infinite subjectivity, not Godhead conceived of in ideas, but the real present
Godhead, and thus it is not the substantial potentiality of the Father, not the
True in the objective or antithetical form of the Son, but the subjective Presen
t and Eeal, which, just because it is subjective, is present, as estrangement in
to that objective, sensuous representation of love and of its infinite sorrow, a
nd as return, in that mediation. This is the Spirit of God, or God as present, r
eal Spirit, God dwelling in His Church. Thus Christ said, "Where two or three ar
e gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of you." " I am with you
always, even to the end of the world."
It is as containing this absolute signification of Spirit, and in this deep sens
e of being absolute truth, that the Christian religion is the Religion of Spirit
, though not in the trivial sense of being a spiritual religion. On the contrary
, the true element in the determination of the nature of Spirit, the union of th
e two sides of the infinite antithesis God and the world, I, this particular hom
uncio is what constitutes the content of the Christian religion, and makes it in
to a religion of Spirit, and this content is also found in it by the ordinary un
cultured consciousness.
All men are called to salvation ; that is what is highest in the Christian relig
ion and highest in a unique degree. Therefore Christ also says, "All sins can be
forgiven to men except the sin against the Spirit." The violation of absolute t
ruth, of the Idea of that union of the two sides of the infinite antithesis, is
in these words declared to be the supreme transgression. People have from time t
o time given themselves a deal of trouble and racked their brains trying to find
out what is the sin against the Holy Spirit, and have smoothed down this signif
icant expression in all kinds of ways in order to get entirely rid of it. Everyt
hing can be destroyed in the infinite sorrow of love, but this destroying proces
s itself appears only as inner present Spirit. What is devoid of Spirit appears
at first to have no sin in it, but to be innocent ; but this is just the innocen
ce which is by its very nature judged and condemned.
The sphere of the Spiritual Community is accordingly the region which belongs pe
culiarly to Spirit. The Holy Spirit was poured out on the disciples, it was thei
r immanent life, from that time onward they joyfully went out into the world as
a Spiritual Community, in order to raise it to the condition of a universal Comm
unity of believers, and to extend far and wide the Kingdom of God.
We have thus to consider (a) the origin of the Spiritual Community, or, in other
words, its conception or notion ; (b) its existence in a definite form and its
continued existence, this is the realisation of its conception ; and (c) the tra
nsition from faith to knowledge, the alteration, the transfiguration of faith in
philosophy.
(a.) The Conception of the Spiritual Community.
The Spiritual Community consists of the subjects or persons, the individual, emp
irical subjects who live in the Spirit of God, though at the same time it is nec
essary to distinguish between them and the definite content, the history, the tr
uth which confronts them. Faith in this history, in reconciliation, is, on the o
ne hand, immediate knowledge, an act of faith ; on the other hand, the nature of
Spirit is in itself this process which has been considered in the universal Ide
a, and in the Idea in the form of manifestation, and this means that the subject
itself is nothing but Spirit, and consequently becomes a citizen of the Kingdom
of God owing to the fact that it passes through this process in virtue of what
it is. The Other, which exists for the subjects, exists for them objectively in
this divine drama in the sense in which the spectator beheld himself objectively
in the Chorus.
To begin with, it is undoubtedly the subject, the human subject, Man, in whom is
revealed what comes by the aid of Spirit to have for Man the certainty of recon
ciliation, and comes to be characterised as individual, exclusive, different fro
m others. Thus the representation of the divine history is an objective one so f
ar as the other subjects are concerned ; they have accordingly still to pass thr
ough this history and this process in their own selves also.
In order to this, however, they must first presuppose that reconciliation is pos
sible, or, to put it more accurately, that this reconciliation has actually and
completely taken place and is a certainty.
This is the universal Idea of God in-and-for-itself ; the other presupposition i
s that this reconciliation is something certain for Man, and that this truth doe
s not exist for him by means of speculative thought,, but is, on the contrary, s
omething certain. This presupposition implies that it is certain that the reconc
iliation has been accomplished, i.e., it must be represented as something histor
ical, as something which has been accomplished on the earth, in a manifested for
m. For there is no other mode of representing what is called certainty. This is
the presupposition iii which we must believe, to begin with.
I. The rise of the Spiritual Community appears in the form of an outpouring of t
he Holy Spirit. Faith takes its rise first of all in a man, a human, material ma
nifestation ; and next conies spiritual comprehension, consciousness of the Spir
itual. We get spiritual content, a changing of what is immediate into what has a
spiritual character. The verification here is spiritual, it is not found in wha
t is sensuous or material ; and it cannot be brought about in an immediate, mate
rial way ; some objection can always be brought against the material facts.
As regards the empirical mode of verifying the truth, the Church is so far right
when it refuses to countenance investigations such as those concerned with the
appearances of Christ after His death ; for investigations of this sort start fr
om a point of view which implies that the real question is as to the sensuous el
ement in the appearance of Christ, as to what is historical in it, as if the ver
ification of Spirit and of its truth was contained in such narratives regarding
one who was represented as an historical person and in an historical fashion. Th
is truth, however, is sure and certain by itself, although it has an historical
starting-point.
This transition is the outpouring of the Spirit, which could make its appearance
only after Christ had been taken away out of the flesh, and the sensuous, immed
iate present had ceased. It is then the Spirit appears, for then the entire hist
ory is completed, and the entire picture of Spirit is present to perception. Wha
t Spirit now produces is something different and has a different form.
The question as to the truth of the Christian religion directly divides itself i
nto two questions : I . Is it really true that God does not exist apart from the
Son, and that He has sent Him into the world? And 2. Was this particular indivi
dual, Jesus of Nazareth, the carpenter's son, the Son of God, the Christ ?
These two questions are commonly mixed up together, with the result that if this
particular person was not God's Son sent by Him, and if this cannot be proved t
o be true of Him, then there is no meaning at all in His mission. If this were n
ot true of Him, we would either have to look for another, if indeed one is to co
me, if there is a promise to that effect, i.e., if it is absolutely and essentia
lly necessary, necessary from the point of view of the Notion, of the Idea ; or,
since the correctness of the Idea is made to depend on the demonstration of the
divine mission referred to, we should have to conclude that there can really be
no longer any thought of such a mission, and that we cannot further think about
it
But it is essential that we ask first of all, Is such a manifestation true in-au
d-for-itself? It is, because God as Spirit is the triune God. He is this act of
manifestation, this self-objectifying, and it is His nature to be identical with
Himself while thus making Himself objective ; He is eternal love. This objectif
ying as seen in its completely developed form in which it reaches the two extrem
es of the universality of God and finitude or death, and this return into self i
n the act of abolishing the rigidity of the antithesis is love in the infinite s
orrow, which is at the same time assuaged in it.
This absolute truth, this truth iu-and-for-itself that God is not an abstraction
, but something concrete, is unfolded by philosophy, and it is only modern philo
sophy which has reached the profound thought thus contained in the Notion. It is
not possible at all to discuss this truth in unphilosophical platitudes which s
uggest an idea of contradiction that is so entirely valueless and is so absolute
ly wanting in what is spiritual.
But this notion or conception must not be thought of as one which gets a complet
e form in philosophy only, it is not only potentially true ; on the contrary, it
belongs essentially to philosophy to get a grasp of what is, of what is actuall
y real in itself. All that is true starts from the form of immediacy as it appea
rs in its manifestation, i.e., in its Being. The notion or conception must there
fore be implicitly present in the self-consciousness of men, in the Spirit ; the
World-Spirit must have conceived of itself after this fashion. This conception
of itself, however, is necessity in the form of the process of Spirit, which was
exhibited in the preceding stages of religion, and chiefly in the Jewish, the G
reek, and the Roman religions, and had for its result the notion or conception o
f the absolute unity of the divine and human natures, the reality of God, i.e.,
God's objectifying of Himself as representing His truth. Thus the history of the
world is the setting forth of this truth as a result in the immediate conscious
ness of Spirit.
We have seen God as a God of free men, though at first as yet in the subjective,
limited, national spirit of the various peoples, and in the accidental shape wh
ich belongs to imagination ; next we had the sorrow of the world following on th
e crushing out of the national Spirit. This sorrow was the birthplace of the imp
ulse felt by Spirit to know God as spiritual in a universal form and stripped of
finitude. This need was created by the progress of history, by the gradual adva
nce of the World-Spirit. This immediate impulse, this longing which wishes and c
raves for something definite, the instinct, as it were, of Spirit which is impel
led to seek for this, demanded such an appearance in time, the manifestation of
God as the infinite Spirit in the form of a real man.
" When the fulness of time was come, God sent His Son," i.e., when Spirit had en
tered so deeply into itself as to know its infinitude, and to comprehend the Sub
stantial in the subjectivity of immediate self-consciousness, in a subjectivity,
however, which is at the same time infinite negativity, and is just, in consequ
ence of this, absolutely universal. The proof, however, that this particular ind
ividual is the Christ, is of another kind, and has reference only to the specifi
c statement that this particular individual is the Christ, and not any other ind
ividual, and has not to do with the question as to whether in this case the Idea
does not exist at all. Christ said, "Run not hither and thither ; the Kingdom o
f God is within you." Many others amongst Jews and heathen were revered as divin
e messengers or as gods. John the Baptist went before Christ ; amongst the Greek
s, statues were erected, for instance, to Demetrius Poliorcetes as if he were a
god ; and the Roman Emperor was revered as God. Apollonius of Tyana and many oth
ers passed for being workers of miracles ; and for the Greeks, Hercules was the
man who by his deeds, which were at the same time deeds of obedience merely, too
k his place amongst the gods, and became God ; without mentioning that great num
ber of incarnations, and the deification implied in being raised to Brahma, whic
h we meet with amongst the Hindus. But it was to Christ only that the Idea, when
it was ripe and the time was fulfilled, could attach itself, and in Him only co
uld it see itself realised. In the heroic deeds of Hercules the nature of Spirit
is still imperfectly expressed. But the history of Christ is a history for the
Spiritual Community, since it is absolutely adequate to the Idea ; while it is o
nly the effort of Spirit to reach the determination implied in the implicit unit
y of the Divine and the Human, which lies at the basis of those earlier forms, a
nd can be recognised as present in them. This is what must be regarded as the es
sential thing, this is the verification, the absolute proof ; this is what is to
be understood by the witness of the Spirit ; it is the Spirit, the indwelling I
dea which attestsChrist's mission, and for those who believed, and for us who ar
e in possession of the Notion in its developed form, this is verification. This
is also the kind of verification whose, force is of a spiritual kind, and is not
outward force such as that used by the Church against heretics.
This then is (2.) Knowledge or Faith, for faith is also knowledge only in a pecu
liar form. We have now to consider this point.
Thus what we see is that the divine content appears as self-conscious knowledge
of the Divine in the element of consciousness, of inwardness. On the one hand, i
t is seen that the content is the truth, and that it is the truth of infinite Sp
irit in general, i.e., is its knowledge, in such a way that it finds its freedom
in this knowledge, is itself the Process by which it casts aside its particular
individuality, and gets freedom for itself in this content.
To begin with, however, the content exists for the immediate consciousness, and
the truth might appear for consciousness in a variety of material forms, for the
Idea is one in all things, it is universal necessity ; reality can be only the
mirror of the Idea, and for consciousness the Idea can accordingly issue forth f
rom everything, for it is always the Idea that is in these infinitely many drops
which reflect back the Idea. The Idea is represented figuratively, known and fo
reshadowed in the seed which is the fruit ; the fruit in its final character die
s away in the earth, and it is through this negation that the plant first comes
into being. A history, a pictorial representation, a description, a phenomenon o
f this sort can be elevated by Spirit to the rank of something universal, and th
us the history of the seed or of the sun becomes a symbol of the Idea, but only
a symbol, for they are forms which, so far as their peculiar content and specifi
c quality are concerned, are inadequate to express the Idea ; what is consciousl
y known through them lies outside of them, the signification they suggest does n
ot exist in them as signification. The object which exists in itself as the Noti
on is spiritual subjectivity, Man ; it is signification in virtue of what it its
elf is, and this signification does not lie outside of it. It is what thinks eve
rything, knows everything, it is not a symbol, but, on the contrary, its subject
ivity, its inner form, its self is essentially this very history itself, and the
history of the Spiritual is not found in some form of existence, which is inade
quate to express the Idea, but rather in its own element. It is therefore necess
ary for the Spiritual Community that Thought, the Idea, should become objective.
At first, however, the Idea appears in a single individual in a material, picto
rial form ; this must be discarded, and the real signi_ fication, the eternally
true essence must be brought into view. Tliis is the faith of the Spiritual Comm
unity when it is coming into existence. It starts from faith in the individual,
this individual man is changed by the Spiritual Community, He is recognised to b
e God and is characterised as the Son of God and as comprising all of the finite
which attaches to subjectivity as such in its development, but as being subject
ivity He is separated from substantiality.
The material or sensuous manifestation is accordingly changed into knowledge of
the Spiritual. We thus see the Spiritual Community starting from faith, but rega
rded in another aspect it appears in the form of Spirit. The different significa
tions of faith and of verification or proof have now to be brought out.
Since faith starts from the sensuous way of viewing things, it has before it a h
istory in time ; what it holds as true is an outward ordinary event, and the ver
ification of the truth of this is conducted according to the historical and juri
dical mode of verifying a fact, which gives sensuous certainty ; the idea formed
of the basis upon which truth rests takes as a foundation the material certaint
y of other persons regarding certain material facts, and brings other facts into
connection with these.
The history of the life of Christ is thus the outward form of verification ; but
faith alters its meaning, that is to say, we have not merely got to do with fai
th as faith in a certain external history, but with the fact that this particula
r man was the Son of God. The sensuous content thus becomes something wholly dif
ferent, it becomes altered into another kind of content, and what is demanded is
that this should be proved to be true. The object has undergone a complete alte
ration, and from being a material, empirically existing element, it has become a
divine moment, an essentially supreme moment in God Himself. This content is no
longer anything material, and therefore when the demand is made that it should
be verified in the material fashion just referred to, this method is at once see
n to be insufficient, because the object is of a wholly different nature.
If miracles are supposed to contain the immediate verification of the truth, sti
ll in-and-for-themselves they supply a merely relative, verification or a proof
of a subordinate sort. Christ says, by way of reproof, " Unless ye see miracles,
ye will not believe." " Many will come and say to Me : Have we not done many si
gns in Thy name ? And I will say to them : I have not known you ; depart from Me
." What is the kind of interest that can here any longer attach to this working
of miracles ? The relative element could have an interest or importance only for
those who stood outside, for the instruction of Jews and heathen. But the Spiri
tual Community, which has taken a definite form, no longer stands in need of thi
s relative kind of proof, it has the Spirit in itself, which leads into all trut
h, and which, by means of its truth as Spirit, exercises upon Spirit the true ki
nd of force, a power in which Spirit has left to it its absolute freedom. The mi
racle represents a force which influences the natural connections of things, and
is consequently a force which is exercised only upon Spirit when it is confined
within the consciousness of this limited connection between things. How is it p
ossible that the eternal Idea itself could reach consciousness through the conce
ption of a force of this kind ?
When the content is defined to mean that the miracles of Christ are themselves m
aterial phenomena which can be attested historically, and when His resurrection
and ascension are in the same way considered as occurrences perceived by the sen
ses, so far as the Sensuous is concerned we are not dealing with the sensuous at
testation of these phenomena, and it is not suggested that the miracles of Chris
t, His resurrection and ascension, in their character as themselves outward phen
omena and sensuous occurrences, have not sufficient evidence of their truth ; bu
t, on the contrary, what we are concerned with is the relation of the sensuous v
erification and the sensuous occurrences taken together, to Spirit, to the spiri
tual content. The verification of the Sensuous, whatever be its content, and whe
ther it is based on evidence or direct perception, is always open to an infinite
number of objections, because it is based on what is sensuous and external, and
this is an Other so far as Spirit or consciousness is concerned ; here consciou
sness and its object are separated, and what holds sway is this underlying separ
ation, which carries with it the possibility of error, deception, and a want of
the culture necessary to form a correct conception of a fact, so that one may ha
ve doubts, and look on the Holy Scriptures, as regards what in them has referenc
e to what is merely external and historical, as profane writings, without mistru
sting the goodwill of those who give the personal evidence. The sensuous or mate
rial content is not certain in itself, because it does not originate with Spirit
as such, because it belongs to another sphere and does not come into existence
by means of the Notion. It may be thought that we ought to come to our conclusio
ns by a comparison of all the evidence and the circumstances, or that there must
be reasons why we should decide for the one or for the other, only, this entire
method of proof and the sensuous content as such ought to be given a subordinat
e place in comparison with the need of Spirit. What is to be true for Spirit, wh
at it is necessary for it to believe must have no connection with sensuous faith
; what is true for Spirit is something for which sensuous manifestation has onl
y a secondary value. Since Spirit starts from what is sensuous, and attains to t
his lofty estimate of itself, its relation to the Sensuous is a directly negativ
e relation. This is a fundamental principle.
Still, spite of this, there always remains a certain curiosity in this matter, a
nd a desire to know how in this case we are to understand miracles, how we are t
o explain them and conceive of them to conceive of them, that is to say, in the
sense that they are not miracles at all, but, on the contrary, are natural effec
ts. A curiosity of this kind, however, presupposes doubt and unbelief, and would
like to find some plausible grounds whereby the persons concerned might still b
e held to be morally virtuous and preserve their character for truthfulness ; so
next it is maintained that there was no intention to deceive, i.e., that no dec
eption actually was practised, and that in any case it was so moderate and v wel
l meant that Christ and His friends ought still to be considered as honourable p
ersons. The shortest way of settling the matter would be entirely to reject mira
cles ; if we do not believe in any miracles at all, and find that they are oppos
ed to reason, the fact of their being proved will do no good ; the evidence for
them must rest on sense-perception, but there is in the human mind an insurmount
able objection to regard as truth what is attested solely after this fashion for
here the proofs are nothing but possibilities and probabilities, i.e., they are
merely subjective and finite reasons.
Or we must give the advice : simply don't have doubts and then they are solved !
But I must have them, I cannot rid myself of them, and the necessity there is f
or answering them rests on the necessity of having them. Reflection advances the
se claims as absolute, it fixes on these finite reasons ; but by piety, by true
faith, these finite reasons, these methods of the finite understanding have long
since been set aside. Curiosity of this sort really has its origin in unbelief;
faith, however, rests on the witness of the Spirit not on miracles, but on the
absolute truth, on the eternal Idea. Thus so far as the true content is concerne
d, and regarding them from this standpoint, miracles are of small importance, th
ey may with equal propriety either be used as subjective reasons with the minor
purpose of edification, or else be let alone. There is the further fact that mir
acles, if they are to attest the truth of anything, must first be attested thems
elves. But what has to be attested by them is the Idea which has no need of them
, and because cf this has no need to attest them.
It has further to be observed that miracles are, speaking generally, effects pro
duced by the power exercised by Spirit upon the natural connection'of things, ar
e an interference with the course and the eternal laws of Nature. But the truth
is that it is Spirit which is this miracle, this absolute interference. Life is
already an interference with these so-called eternal laws of Nature ; it destroy
s, for instance, the eternal laws of mechanism and chemistry. The power of Spiri
t, and also its weakness, have still more effect on life. Terror can produce dea
th, anxiety, illness, and so in all ages infinite faith and trust have enabled t
he lame to walk and the deaf to hear, &c. Modern unbelief in occurrences of this
sort is based on a superstitious belief in the so-called force of Nature and it
s independence relatively to Spirit.
This, however, is merely the first and accidental method of attesting truth empl
oyed by faith. The real kind of faith rests on the Spirit of truth. The former k
ind of verification still involves a relation to the sensuous immediate present
; faith proper is spiritual, and in Spirit truth has the Idea for its basis, and
, since the Idea is at the same time represented in a temporal and finite way ex
isting in a single definite individual, it can appear as realised in this indivi
dual only after his death and after he has been removed from the temporal sphere
when the process through which the manifestation passes has itself reached the
form of spiritual totality, i.e., the very fact of believing in Jesus implies th
at this faith has no longer before it the sensuous manifestation as such, the se
nsuous perception of which would in that case have constituted the proof of the
truth.
What happens here is what happens in connection with all knowledge in so far as
it has reference to a Universal. Kepler, as is well known, discovered the laws o
f the Heavens. They are valid for us in a double way, they are the Universal. A
start was made from single instances ; certain movements were referred back to l
aws. But these are only single instances, and we would be free to think that the
re may be millions more of instances, that there may be bodies which don't move
like those we know of, and thus this is not a universal law even in the case of
the heavenly bodies themselves. We have certainly become acquainted with these l
aws by means of induction ; but for Spirit, the interest lies in the fact that s
uch a law is true in-and-for-itself, i.e., in its own nature, that reason finds
in it its counterpart, and then recognises it to be true in-and-for-itself. In c
omparison with this absolute knowledge, the sensuous knowledge referred to accor
dingly takes a secondary place, it is indeed a starting-point, a point of depart
ure which has to be gratefully recognised, but a law such as that just mentioned
holds good for itself and thus accordingly the proof of its truth is of a diffe
rent kind from that supplied by the senses, it is the Notion, and sensuous exist
ence is now lowered to the condition of a dream-like vision of the earthly-life,
above which exists a higher region with a fixed content of its own.
The same kind of thing is seen in connection with the proofs of the existence of
God which start from the finite. The defect in them is that the finite is conce
ived of in an affirmative way only ; but the transition from the finite to the I
nfinite is at the same time of such a character that the region of the finite is
left behind, and the finite is reduced to the condition of something subordinat
e, to being a far-away picture, which has its real existence only in the past an
d in memory, and not in Spirit, which is above all things present, and which has
left that starting-point behind, and belongs to a region the value of which is
of a totally different sort. The pious man can thus take advantage of everything
in order to edify himself, and in that case this is the starting-point. It lias
been proved that several of the quotations made by Christ from the Old Testamen
t are incorrect, and that the meaning extracted from them is not based on the im
mediate sense of the words. The Word, according to this view, is to be regarded
as something fixed ; but Spirit makes out of it something that is true. Thus the
material history is the starting-point for Spirit, for faith, and these two cha
racteristics must be distinguished from each other, and what we are first of all
concerned with is the return of Spirit into itself, spiritual consciousness.
It thus becomes clear that it is the Church or Spiritual /_ Community which of i
tself produces this faith, and that it is not, so to speak, created by the words
of the Bible, but, on the contrary, by the Spiritual Community. So, too, it is
not the material Present but the Spirit which teaches the Spiritual Community th
at Christ is the Son of God, that He sits eternally at the right hand of the Fat
her in heaven. That is the interpretation, the witness, the decree of Spirit. If
grateful peoples have only placed their benefactors amongst the stars, Spirit h
as recognised subjectivity as an absolute moment of the divine nature. The perso
n of Christ has been decreed by the Church to be the Son of God. We have nothing
to do in this connection with the empirical method of stating this, with the ec
clesiastical method of determining the truth, with councils and such like. The r
eal question is as to what the content essentially is, is in-and-for-itself. The
true Christian content of faith is to be justified by philosophy, not by histor
y. What Spirit does is no history ; it takes to do only with what exists on its
own account, is in-andfor-itself, not with something past, but, on the contrary,
simply with what is present.
3. But this has appeared in time, too, it has a relation to the subject, it exis
ts for it, and it has a no less essential relation to the fact that the subject
is intended to be a citizen of the Kingdom of God.
This fact that the subject itself is to become a child of God involves the truth
that reconciliation has actually been completely accomplished in the Divine Ide
a, and that it has accordingly appeared in time, that the truth has become a mat
ter of certainty to men. It is just this fact of certainty which is the manifest
ation, the Idea, in the manifested form in which it comes to consciousness.
The relation of the subject to this truth is that the subject reaches this very
consciousness of unity, thinks itself worthy of it, produces it in itself, is fi
lled with the Divine Spirit.
This takes place by means of mediation in itself, and this mediation means that
the subject has this faith ; for faith is the truth, the presupposition that rec
onciliation is essentially and absolutely accomplished and is certain. It is onl
y by means of this belief that reconciliation has been essentially and absolutel
y accomplished and is certain, that the subject is capable of placing itself in
this unity, and is in a position to do this. This mediation is absolutely necess
ary.
In the blissful feeling thus reached by means of this act of apprehending the tr
uth, the difficulty is removed which is directly involved in the circumstance th
at the relation of the Spiritual Community to this Idea is a relation of individ
ual particular subjects to the Idea ; this difficulty is, however, done away wit
h in this very truth itself. Speaking more strictly, the difficulty is that the
subject is different from the Divine Spirit, and appears as something which is i
ts finitude. This finite element is taken away, and the reason of this is that G
od looks on the heart of Man, on the substantial will, on the most inward all-em
bracing subjectivity of Man, on the inner, true, earnest act of will.
Besides this inner will, and as distinguished from this inner substantial realit
y, there further exists in Man an element of externality, of defectiveness, whic
h shows itself in the fact that he commits mistakes, that he can exist in a way
which is not in conformity with this inner, substantial, essential nature, this
substantial, essential inwardness.
But externality, otherness in short, finitude, or imperfection as it may further
be defined, is degraded to the condition of something unessential, and is known
as such. For in the Idea the otherness, or Other-Being of the Son, is a passing
, disappearing moment, and not at all a true, essential, permanent, and absolute
moment.
This is the notion or conception of the Spiritual Community in general ; the Ide
a, which so far is the process of the subject within and in itself this subject
being taken up into the Spirit is spiritual, in the sense that the Spirit of God
dwells in it. This pure self-consciousness which thus belongs to it is at the s
ame time a consciousness of the truth, and this pure self-consciousness which kn
ows and wills the truth is just the Divine Spirit in it. Or, this self-conscious
ness taken as faith which rests on the Spirit, i.e., on a mediation which does a
way with all finite mediation, is the faith wrought in Man by God.
(b.) The Realisation of the Spiritual Community.
The real Spiritual Community is what we in general call the Church. This no long
er represents the rise of the Spiritual Community, but the Spiritual Community a
s actually existing and as maintaining itself.
The actual, permanent existence of the Spiritual Community is its continuous, et
ernal becoming, which is based on the fact that it is the very nature of Spirit
to know itself as eternal, to liberate itself so as to form those finite flashes
of light which make the individual consciousness, and then to collect itself ag
ain out of this finitude and comprehend itself, and in this way the knowledge of
its essence and consequently the divine self-consciousness appear in finite con
sciousness. Out of the ferment of finitude, and while it changes itself into foa
m, Spirit rises like a vapour.
In the Spiritual Community as actually existing, the Church is emphatically the
institution in virtue of which the persons composing it reach the truth and appr
opriate it for themselves, and through it the Holy Spirit comes to be in them as
real, actual, and present, and has its abode in them ; it means that the truth
is in them, and that they are in a condition to enjoy and give active expression
to the truth or Spirit, that they as individuals are those who give active expr
ession to the Spirit.
The Church viewed in its universal aspect means that the truth is here presuppos
ed as already existing not as if it were just originating, and the Holy Spirit w
ere being poured out for the first time, and was being brought into existence fo
r the first time, but rather that the truth exists as actually present truth. Fo
r the subject this means an alteration of the relation in which it stood to the
truth at the beginning.
i. This truth which is thus presupposed is actually present ; it is the doctrine
of the Church, the Faith, and we know what the content of this doctrine is ; it
is, in one word, the doctrine of reconciliation. We have no longer to do with t
he fact that this one man has been elevated by the outpouring, the decree of the
Spirit, so as to have an absolute signification, but with the fact that this si
gnification is consciously known and recognised. This represents the absolute ca
pacity possessed by the subject for taking a share in the truth, both as it exis
ts in itself and as it exists in an objective form, the capacity for reaching th
e truth, for being in the truth, for attaining to a consciousness of the truth.
This consciousness of doctrine is here presupposed and actually exists.
It is clear from this, both that some kind of doctrine is necessary, and that th
e doctrine is already formed when the Spiritual Community definitely exists. It
is this doctrine which is represented in a pictorial way, and constitutes a cont
ent in which we see and have shown in an absolutely completed form, what ought t
o be accomplished in the individual as such.
This doctrine is thus regarded as something presupposed so far as its main eleme
nts are concerned, as something already formed, while it is in the Spiritual Com
munity itself that it first gets a matured form. The Spirit which is poured out
is the beginning, what makes the beginning, that in which the doctrine takes its
rise. The Spiritual Community is the consciousness of this Spirit, the expressi
on of what the Spirit has discovered, and by which it has been laid hold of, nam
ely, that Christ is for the Spirit. The distinction involved in the question as
to whether the Spiritual Community gives expression to its consciousness on the
basis of al written document, or attaches its own self-determinations to traditi
on, is not at all an essential one ; the maiii point is, that by means of the Sp
irit, which is present in it, this Community is the infinite power and authority
whereby its doctrine is further developed and gets a more specific form. This a
uthority makes its presence felt in both of those different cases. The expositio
n of a document which lies at the basis of any doctrine is always in its turn a
form of knowledge, and develops into new specific truths ; and even if, as in th
e case of tradition, it attaches itself to something given or taken for granted,
the tradition itself, in its historical development, is essentially a positing
or making explicit of some implicit truth. Thus doctrine is essentially worked o
ut and matured in the Church. It exists, to begin with, as intuition, feeling, a
s the felt, flash-like witness of the Spirit. But the determination implied in t
he act of producing or bringing into existence is itself merely a one-sided dete
rmination, for truth is at the same time implicitly present or presupposed. The
subject is already taken up into the content.
The confession of faith or dogma accordingly is something which has been essenti
ally formed in the Church first of all, and* it is consequently Thought, develop
ed consciousness which asserts its rights in connection with it, and it applies
all that it has gained from trained thinking and philosophy, to these thoughts a
nd on behalf of this truth thus consciously perceived ; doctrine is constructed
out of foreign concrete elements which have still an impure element mixed with t
hem.
This actually existing doctrine must accordingly be preserved in the Church, and
all that is considered as doctrine must be taught. In order to remove it out of
the region of caprice and of accidental opinions and views, and to preserve it
as absolute truth and as something fixed, it is deposited or stated in creeds. I
t is, it exists, it has value, it is recognised immediately yet not in a materia
l fashion that the apprehension of this doctrine takes place through the senses,
just as the world, too, is something presupposed as existing, and to which we a
re related as to something material.
Spiritual truth exists only as something consciously known ; the mode in which i
t outwardly appears consists in the fact that it is taught. The Church is essent
ially the institution which implies the existence of a teaching body to which is
committed the duty of expounding this doctrine.
The subject is born within the circle of this doctrine ; he begins in this condi
tion of established existing truth and in the consciousness of it. That is his r
elation to this truth, which actually exists, and is presupposed as having an ab
solute and essential existence.
2. Since the individual is thus born in the Church, he is forthwith destined, al
though, to be sure, unconsciously, to share in this truth and to become a partak
er of it ; he is destined for this truth. The Church expresses this in the Sacra
ment of Baptism, Man is in the fellowship of the Church, in which Evil is essent
ially, in-and-for-itself, overcome, and God is essentially, or in-and-for-Himsel
f, reconciled.
Baptism shows that the child has been born in the fellowship of the Church, not
in sin and misery ; that he has not come into a hostile world, but that the Chur
ch is his world, and that he has only to train himself in the Spiritual Communit
y which already actually exists as representing his worldly condition.
Man must be born twice, once naturally, and then again spiritually, like the Bra
hman. Spirit is not immediate, it exists only in so far as it brings itself out
of itself; it exists only as the regenerate Spirit.
This regeneration is no longer that infinite sadness which is in general the bir
th sorrow of the Spiritual Community ; the subject is not indeed spared the infi
nitely real sorrow, but this is softened ; for there still exists the opposing f
actor of particularity, of special interests, passions, selfishness. The natural
heart which encompasses Man is the enemy that has to be fought ; this is, howev
er, no longer the real battle out of which the Spiritual Community sprang.
The doctrine of the Church is related to this individual as something external.
The child is, to begin with, Spirit implicitly only, it is not yet realised Spir
it, does not actually exist as Spirit, but has only the capability, the faculty
of being Spirit, of becoming Spirit actually ; thus the truth comes to it at fir
st as something taken for granted, recognised, valid, i.e., truth necessarily pr
esents itself at first to men in the form of authority.
All truth, even material truth this, however, is not truth properly so-called co
mes to men in this form, to begin with. In our sense-perception the world presen
ts itself to us as authority, it is, we find it as it is, we take it as somethin
g which has existence, and we are related to it as something which exists. It ex
ists in a certain way, and its existence in this form is valid for us.
Doctrine, the spiritual element does not actually exist in the form of material
authority of this sort, but must be taught as established truth. Custom is somet
hing established or valid, a definitely formed conviction ; but because it is so
mething spiritual we do not say : it is ; but rather, it is valid. Since it come
s to us as something which exists, it is, and since it thus comes to us as somet
hing having valid worth, we call the mode in which it thus appears authority.
Just as man has to learn about material things on authority and because they are
there and exist, has to be content with them the sun is there, and because it i
s there I must be content with it so, too, is it with doctrine or truth ; it doe
s not, however, come to us by means of sense-perception, by the active exercise
of the senses, but through teaching, as something which actually exists, through
authority. What is in the human spirit, i.e., in its true spirit, is in this wa
y brought into its consciousness as something objective, or what is in it is dev
eloped so that it knows it to be the truth in which it exists. In such education
, practice, training, and appropriation, the whole interest centres merely in ge
tting accustomed to the Good and the True. So far we are not concerned with over
coming Evil, for Evil has implicitly and actually been overcome.
We are concerned merely with contingent subjectivity. With the one characteristi
c of faith, namely, that the subject is not what it is meant to be, there is joi
ned the absolute possibility that it may fulfil its destiny and be received into
favour by God. This belongs to faith. The individual must lay hold of the truth
of the implicit unity of divine and human nature, and he lays hold of this trut
h by faith in Christ ; God is thus no longer for the individual something beyond
this world, and the apprehension of this truth is in direct contrast to the fir
st fundamental characteristic, according to which the subject is not what it oug
ht or is intended to be. The child, inasmuch as it has been born in the Church,
has been born in freedom and to freedom ; there no longer exists for it any abso
lute OtherBeing, this Other-Being is considered as something overcome and conque
red.
This education in the truth is concerned only with preventing evil from appearin
g, for there is in Man, looked at from a general point of view, a possibility th
at it will appear ; but in so far as evil appears when a man does what is evil,
it is at the same time something which is implicitly a nullity over which Spirit
has power, and this power is of such a character that Spirit is able to make ev
il to cease to exist, to undo it.
Repentance, Penitence signifies that the transgression has come to be recognised
owing to a man's elevation to the truth, as something which has been virtually
overcome and has no longer power in itself. That what has happened can be made a
s though it had not happened, cannot take place in a sensuous or material way, b
ut in a spiritual and inward way. He is pardoned, he passes for one who has been
adopted by the Father amongst men.
This is the business of the Church, this training whereby the education of the s
pirit becomes ever more inward, and this truth becomes identical with his Self,
with the will of Man, becomes his act of will, his Spirit. The battle is past, a
nd Man is conscious that it is not a case of battle, as it is in the Persian rel
igion or the Kantian Philosophy, in which Evil is indeed to be overcome, but in
which it confronts the Good in virtue of its own essential nature, and in which
infinite progress is what is highest of all.
If we get no further than the idea of what ought to be, then effort becomes endl
ess, and the solution of the problem is removed infinitely far away.
Here, on the contrary, the contradiction is already implicitly solved ; evil is
known as something which in the Spirit is virtually and absolutely overcome, and
in virtue of the fact of its being thus overcome the subject has only to make i
ts will good, and evil, the evil action, disappears.
Here there is the consciousness that there is no sin which cannot be forgiven if
the natural will is surrendered, unless the sin against the Holy Spirit, the de
nial of Spirit; for it alone is the power which can cancel everything.
Very many difficulties arise in connection with this point, and they all spring
from the conception of Spirit and of freedom. On the one hand, Spirit is regarde
d as universal Spirit, and, on the other hand, as Man's independent existence, a
s the independent existence of the single individual. It is necessary to say tha
t it is the divine Spirit which effects regeneration ; this is divine free grace
, for all that is divine is free ; it is not fate, it is not destiny. On the oth
er hand, however, there is the self of the soul existing in a positive way, and
it is sought accordingly to ascertain how much Man's share in the matter is ; a
Velleitas, a Nisus is left to him, but persistence in firmly remaining in such a
relation is itself unspiritual. The first condition of Being, the Being of the
Self, is potentially the Notion, potentially Spirit, and what has to be abolishe
d is the form of its immediacy, of its isolated, particular, independent Being o
r Being-forself. This cancelling of self and coming to self on the part of the N
otion is not, however, limited, universal Spirit. The act implied in belief in i
mplicit reconciliation, is, viewed in one aspect, the act of the subject, and, v
iewed in another aspect, it is the act of the Divine Spirit : faith is itself th
e Divine Spirit which works in the individual ; but this latter is not in this c
ase a passive receptacle, but, on the contrary, the Holy Spirit is equally the S
pirit of the subject, since it has faith ; in the exercise of this faith it acts
against its natural life, discards it, puts it away. The difference between the
three ways of representing this truth which have been employed may also serve t
o throw light on the antinomy which is involved in the course thus pursued by th
e soul.
(a.) There is first the moral view which finds its antithesis in the absolutely
external relation of selfconsciousness, in a relation which, taken by itself, mi
ght appear either as first or as fourth, namely, in the oriental despotic relati
on which involves the annihilation of individual thought and will ; this moral v
iew places the absolute end, the essence of Spirit, in an end connected with vol
ition, and with volition, in fact, simply as its volition, so that this subjecti
ve aspect is the main point. Law, the Universal, the Rational is my rationality
in me, and so, too, the willing of the end and its realisation which make it my
own, my subjective end, are also mine ; and inasmuch as the idea of something hi
gher or highest, of God and the Divine, enters into this view, this is itself me
rely a postulate of my reason, something posited by me. It ought, it is true, to
be something which has not been posited, something which is a purely independen
t power ; still, although it is thus something not posited, I do not forget that
this very fact of its not being posited is something which has been posited by
me. It comes to the same thing whether this be stated in the form of a postulate
, or whether we say, my feeling of dependence or of the need of salvation is wha
t comes first, for in both cases the peculiar objectivity of truth has been abol
ished.
(6.) In reference to the good resolve, and still more in reference to the Univer
sal or Law, the pious man further adds that this is the divine will, and that th
e power of making the good resolution is itself really something divine, and he
does not go beyond the universal relation here implied.
Finally, (c.) The mystical and ecclesiastical view gives greater definiteness to
this connection between God and the subjective act of will and Being, and bring
s it into the relation which is based on the nature of the Idea, The various way
s in which this truth has been conceived of in the Church are simply attempts to
solve the antinomy. The Lutheran conception of it is, without doubt, the most b
rilliant, even if it has not perfectly reached the form of the Idea.
3. What comes last in this sphere of thought is the enjoyment of what is thus ap
propriated, the enjoyment of the presence of God. What we have here is the consc
iously felt presence of God, unity with God, the unio mystica, the feeling of Go
d in the heart.
This is the Sacrament of the Supper, in which Man has given him in a sensible im
mediate way the consciousness of his reconciliation with God, the abiding and in
dwelling of the Spirit in him.
Since this is a feeling in the individual heart, it is also a movement, it presu
pposes the abolition of differences whereby this negative unity comes into exist
ence as the result. If the permanent preservation of the Spiritual Community, wh
ich is at the same time its unbroken creation, is itself the eternal repetition
of the life, passion, and resurrection of Christ, then this repetition gets a co
mplete expression in the Sacrament of the Supper. The eternal sacrifice here jus
t is, that the absolute substantial element, the unity of the subject and of the
absolute object is offered to the individual to enjoy in an immediate way, and
since the individual is reconciled, it follows that this complete reconciliation
is the resurrection of Christ. Consequently the Supper is the central point of
Christian doctrine, and it is from ic that all the differences in Christian doct
rine get their colour and peculiar character. The conceptions formed of it are o
f three kinds :
(i.) According to one conception the host, this outward, material, unspiritual t
hing is, owing to the act of consecration, the actually present God God as a thi
ng, and in the form of an empirical thing, and thus, too, as empirically enjoyed
by Man. Since God is thus known as something outward in the Supper which is the
central point of doctrine, this externality is the basis of the whole Catholic
religion. There arises from this a slavishness of knowledge and action ; this ex
ternality runs through all further definitions of the truth owing to the fact th
at the True is represented as something fixed and external. Being thus something
which has a definite existence outside of the subject, it can come to be in the
power of others ; the Church is in possession of it as it is of all the means o
f grace ; the subject is in this respect something passive and receptive which d
oes not know what is true, right, and good, but has to accept it merely from oth
ers.
(2.) According to the Lutheran conception the movement starts from something ext
ernal which is an ordinary common thing, but the act of communion takes place an
d the inner feeling of the presence of God arises to the extent to which, and in
so far as, the externality is eaten not simply in a corporal fashion, but in sp
irit and faith. It is only in spirit and in faith that we have the present God.
The sensible presence is in itself nothing, nor does consecration make the host
into an object worthy of adoration ; but, on the contrary, the object exists in
faith only, and thus it is in the consuming and destroying of the sensuous that
we have union with God and the consciousness of this union of the subject with G
od. Here the grand thought has arisen that, apart from the act of communion and
faith, the host is a common, material thing ; the process truly takes place only
in the spirit of the subject.
In this case there is no transubstantiation transubstantiation there certainly i
s, but it is of the kind by which what is external is absorbed and abolished; wh
ile the presence of God is of a purely spiritual sort, and is directly connected
with the faith of the subject.
(3.) According to this third conception God is present only in the conception we
form of Him, only in memory, and thus His presence is so far merely immediate a
nd subjective. This is the conception of the Eeformed Church, an unspiritual and
merely lively remembrance of the Past, not a divine Presence, not a really spir
itual existence. Here the Divine, the Truth has got lowered to the prose of the
Enlightenment and of the mere Understanding, and expresses a merely moral relati
on.
(c.) The Realisation of the Spiritual culminating in Universal Reality.
This directly involves the transformation and remodelling of the Spiritual Commu
nity.
Religion is here the spiritual religion, and the Spiritual Community exists prim
arily in what is inward, in Spirit as such. This inner element, this subjectivit
y which is present to itself as inward, not developed in itself, is feeling or s
ensation ; the Spiritual Community has also as an essential part of its characte
r, consciousness, ordinary thought or mental representation, needs, impulses, a
worldly existence in fact, but this brings with it disunion, differentiation ; t
he divine objective Idea presents itself to consciousness as an Other outside of
it which is given partly through authority and is partly appropriated in acts o
f devotion to put it otherwise, the moment of communion is merely a single momen
t, or the divine Idea, the divine content is not actually seen, but is only repr
esented in the mind. The Now or actuality of communion as thus represented is tr
ansferred partly to a region beyond, to a heaven beyond the present, partly to t
he past and partly to the future. Spirit, however, is above all things present,
and demands a real and complete presence ; it demands more than love merely, tha
n sad ideas or mental pictures, it demands that the content should itself be pre
sent, or that the feeling, the sensation experienced should be developed and exp
anded.
Thus the Spiritual Community, in its character as the Kingdom of God, has standi
ng over against it, objectivity in general. Objectivity in the shape of an exter
nal immediate world is represented by the heart with its interests ; another for
m of objectivity is the objectivity of Eeflection, of abstract Thought, of the U
nderstanding ; and the third and true form of objectivity is that of the Notion
; and we have now to consider how Spirit realises itself in these three elements
.
i. In religion the heart is implicitly reconciled; this reconciliation has thus
its place in the heart, it is spiritual is the pure heart which attains this enj
oyment of the presence of God in it, and consequently reconciliation, the enjoym
ent of being reconciled. This reconciliation is, however, abstract ; the self, t
he subject, that is to say, represents at the same time that aspect of this spir
itual presence according to which a worldly element in a developed form is actua
lly found in the self, and thus the Kingdom of God, the Spiritual Community, has
a relation to the worldly element.
In order that the reconciliation be real, it is necessary that in this developme
nt, in this totality, the reconciliation should also be consciously known, be pr
esent, and be brought forward into actuality. The principles which apply to this
worldly element actually exist in this spiritual element.
The truth of the worldly element is the Spiritual, or, to put it more definitely
, it means that the subject as an object of divine grace, as a being who is reco
nciled with God, has an infinite value by the very character which is essentiall
y his, and which is further developed in the Spiritual Community. In accordance
with this its essential character, the subject is accordingly recognised as bein
g the infinite certainty of Spirit itself, as the eternity of Spirit.
So far as this subject which is thus inherently infinite is concerned, the fact
of its being determined or destined to infinitude is its freedom, and just means
that it is a free person, and thus is also related to this world, to reality as
subjectivity which is at home with itself, reconciled within itself, and is abs
olutely fixed and infinite subjectivity. This is the substantial element ; this
specific character which thus belongs to it must form the basis in so far as it
brings itself into relation with this world.
The rationality, the freedom of the subject means that the subject is this somet
hing which has been freed and has attained to this condition of freedom through
religion, that it is essentially free in virtue of its religious character. What
we are concerned with is to see how this reconciliation takes place within the
worldly sphere itself.
(l.) The first form of reconciliation is the immediate one, and just because of
its being immediate it is not yet the true mode of reconciliation. This reconcil
iation shows itself as follows. At first the Spiritual Community, as representin
g the fact of reconciliation, the Spiritual, the fact of reconciliation with God
in itself, stands aloof from the worldly sphere in an abstract way ; the Spirit
ual renounces the worldly sphere by its own act, takes up a negative relation to
the world, and consequently to itself; for the world in the subject shows itsel
f as the impulse to Nature, to social life, to art and science.
The concrete element in the self, namely, the passions, is not able to justify i
tself in reference to the religious element by the fact of its being natural ; w
hile ascetic withdrawal from the world implies that the heart does not get a con
crete expansion and is to remain undeveloped, or, in other words, that the spiri
tual element, the state of reconciliation, and the life in which this reconcilia
tion is to show itself, is to be, and is to continue to be, concentrated in itse
lf and undeveloped. It is, however, the very nature of Spirit to develop itself,
to differentiate itself until it reaches the worldly sphere.
(2.) The second form, of this reconciliation implies that the interests of the w
orld and religious interests continue to be external to one another, and that st
ill they ought to come into relation to each other. Thus the relation in which b
oth stand is merely an external one, and it means that the one prevails over the
other, and thus there is no reconciliation : the religious element, it is felt,
should be the ruling element ; what has been reconciled, the Church namely, sho
uld rule the secular element, which is unreconciled.
There is a union with the worldly element which is unreconciled, the worldly ele
ment in its purely crude state, and which in its purely crude state is merely br
ought under the sway of the other ; but the element which thus holds sway absorb
s this worldly element into itself, all tendencies, all passions, everything, in
short, which represents worldly interests devoid of any spiritual element, make
their appearance in the Church owing to the position of sovereignty thus attain
ed, because the secular element is not reconciled in itself.
Thus a sovereignty is reached by means of what is unspiritual, in which what is
external is the ruling principle, and in which Man is in his general relationshi
ps directly outside of himself ; it is, in fact, the relation or condition of wa
nt of freedom. The element of disunion enters into everything that can be called
human, into all kinds of impulses, and into all those relationships which have
reference to the family, to active life, and life in the State ; and the ruling
principle is that Man is not at home with himself, is in a region foreign to his
nature. Man, in fact, in all these forms is in a condition of servitude, and al
l those forms which his life takes are held to be worthless, unholy, and he hims
elf, by the very fact of his connection with them, is essentially something fini
te, disunited, and thus has no valid worth, since what possesses validity is an
Other.
This reconciliation is connected with worldly interests and with Man's own heart
in such a way that it becomes the direct opposite of reconciliation. The furthe
r development of this condition of rupture in reconciliation itself, is accordin
gly what takes the form of the corruption of the Church the absolute contradicti
on of the Spiritual within itself.
(3.) The third characteristic is that this contradiction cancels itself in Moral
ity, that the principle of freedom has forced its way into secular life ; and si
nce secular life so constructed is itself in conformity with the Notion, reason,
truth, eternal truth, it is a freedom which has become concrete, the rational w
ill.
It is in the organisation of the State that the Divine has passed into the spher
e of reality ; the latter is penetrated by the former, and the existence of the
secular element is justified in-and-for-itself, for its basis is the Divine Will
, the law of right and freedom. The true reconciliation whereby the Divine reali
ses itself in the region of reality is found in moral and legal life in the Stat
e ; this is the true disciplining of the secular life.
The institutions of morality are divine, are holy, not in the sense in which wha
t is holy is opposed to what is moral, as when it is held that celibacy represen
ts what is holy as opposed to family life, or voluntary poverty as opposed to ac
tive acquisition by one's own efforts, to what is lawful. In the same way blind
obedience passes for being something holy ; while, on the contrary, what makes m
orality is obedience in freedom, free, rational will, the obedience of the subje
ct in respect of what is moral. In morality the reconciliation of religion with
reality, with the secular life, is an actual and accomplished fact.
2. The second point is that the ideal side now emerges here on its own account.
In this state in which Spirit is reconciled with itself, what is inward knows it
self as being within the sphere of its own nature, knows that it is together wit
h itself, and this knowledge that it is together with itself, not outside of its
elf, is just Thought, which is the state of reconciliation, the being together w
ith self, the being at peace with self, but in a wholly abstract undeveloped con
dition of peace with itself. There thus arises the infinite demand that the cont
ent of religion should verify its truth for Thought as well, and this is a neces
sary requirement which cannot be set aside.
Thought is the Universal, the active expression of the Universal, and stands in
contrast to the concrete in general, which represents the external.
It is the Freedom of Eeason which has been won in religion, and which knows itse
lf in Spirit as existing for itself. This freedom accordingly opposes itself to
the purely unspiritual externality, to servitude ; for servitude is directly opp
osed to the conception of reconciliation and liberation, and thus thought enters
in and destroys and bids defiance to externality in whatever form it may appear
.
This represents the negative and formal act which in its concrete form has been
called the " Enlightenment," and which implies that thought sets itself to oppos
e externality, and that the freedom of Spirit, which is involved in reconciliati
on, is asserted. This thought, when it first appears, appears in the form of thi
s abstract Universal, and sets itself against the concrete in general, and conse
quently against the Idea of God, against the theory that God is the Triune God a
nd not a dead abstraction, but a Being related to Himself, who is at home with H
imself and returns to Himself. Abstract thought attacks this doctrinal content,
as held by the Church, with its principle of identity ; for this concrete conten
t is in contradiction with this law of identity. In the concrete there are deter
minations, differences ; since abstract thought turns against externality in gen
eral, it is also opposed to difference as such, the relation of God to Man, the
unity of the two, divine grace and human freedom ; for all this is the union of
opposed determinations. The rule, however, for the Understanding, for this abstr
act thought, is abstract identity ; this kind of thought thus aims at dissolving
all that is concrete, all determinations, all content in God, and accordingly r
eflection has as its final resultant merely the objectivity of identity itself,
this, namely, that God is nothing but the Supreme Essence, without definite char
acter or determination, empty ; for every determination makes what is determined
concrete. He is for cognition something beyond the present, for cognition or re
asoned knowledge is knowledge of a concrete content. Reflection in this its comp
lete form is the antithesis of the Christian Church ; and as everything concrete
in God is destroyed, this fact is expressed somewhat in this fashion Man cannot
know God ; for to know God is to know Him in accordance with His attributes or
determinations, but according to this view He remains a pure abstraction. This f
ormula certainly contains the principle of freedom, of inwardness, of religion e
ven ; but it is, to begin with, conceived of in a merely abstract way.
The Other, by means of which determination enters into this universality which e
xists alongside of this abstraction, is nothing but what is contained in the nat
ural inclinations, the impulses of the subject. Regarding the matter from this s
tandpoint, it is accordingly said that Man is by nature good. Inasmuch as this p
ure subjectivity, this ideality, is pure freedom, it is certainly brought into c
onnection with the essential character of the Good, but the Good itself must in
this case equally remain an abstraction. The determination of the Good here is t
he arbitrariness, the accidental nature of the subject in general, and this latt
er is thus the extreme or culminating point of this subjectivity, the freedom wh
ich renounces its claim to truth and to the development of truth, which thus mov
es within itself and knows that what it considers as having validity is simply i
ts own determinations, and that it has the mastery over all that is called good
and evil.
This is an inner self-enclosed life which may indeed coexist with calm, lofty, a
nd pious aspirations, but may as readily appear as hypocrisy or as vanity in its
 most extreme form. It is what is called the pious life of feeling, to which Pie
tism also restricts itself. Pietism recognises no objective truth, sets itself i
n opposition to dogmas, to the content of religion, and though it does indeed pr
eserve the element of mediation, and still maintains a certain relation to Chris
t, yet this relation is supposed to remain in the sphere of feeling, in the sphe
re of inner sentiment. Each person has thus his own God, Christ, &c. The element
of particularity in which each has his own individual religion, his own theory
of the Universe, &c., does undoubtedly exist in Man ; but in religion it is abso
rbed by life in the Spiritual Community, and for the truly pious man it has no l
onger any real worth and is laid aside.
On this side of the empty essence of God there thus stands a finitude which is f
ree on its own account and has become independent, which has an absolute value i
n itself, e.g., in the shape of the righteousness of individuals. The further co
nsequence is, that not only is the objectivity of God thus put in a sphere beyon
d the present and negated, but all other objective characteristics which have va
lidity in -and -forthemselves, and which have appeared in the world as Right, as
what is moral, &c., absolutely disappear. Since the subject thus retreats to th
e extreme point of its infinity, the Good, all that is right, &c., are contained
only in it, it takes all this as constituting its own subjective character, it
is only its thought. What gives body to this Good is accordingly taken from natu
ral caprice, from what is accidental, from passion, &c. This subject is further
the consciousness that objectivity is shut up within it itself, and that this ob
jectivity has no permanent existence ; it is only the principle of identity whic
h has for it validity ; this subject is something abstract, it can be filled up
with any kind of content, since it has the power to subsume every content which
is thus planted in the heart of Man. Subjectivity is thus caprice itself, and is
, in short, the knowledge of that power belonging to it whereby it produces obje
ctivity or the Good and gives it a content.
The other development of this point of view, accordingly, is that the subject ha
s no independent existence, is not for itself in reference to the unity which it
has reached by emptying itself, it does not preserve its particularity as again
st it, but has for its specific aim self-absorption in the unity of God. The sub
ject has thus no particular end, nor any objective end beyond simply the glory o
f the one God. What we have here is religion ; there is in it an affirmative rel
ation to its Essence which is constituted by this One, in it the subject yields
itself up. This religion has the same objective content as the Jewish religion,
but the relation in which men stand to one another is broadened ; there is no pa
rticularity left in it, the Jewish idea of national value which establishes the
relation in which Man stands to the One, is wanting here. Here there is no limit
ation, Man is related to this One as a purely abstract self-consciousness. This
is the characteristic of the Mohammedan religion. It forms the antithesis of Chr
istianity, because it occupies a like sphere with the Christian religion. It is,
as it were, the Jewish spiritual religion, but this God exists for self-conscio
usness in Spirit which has merely abstract knowledge, and occupies a stage which
is one with that occupied by the Christian religion, inasmuch as in it no kind
of particularity is retained. The man who fears God is acceptable to Him, and Ma
n has value only in so far as he finds his truth in the knowledge that this God
is the One, the Essence. There is no recognition of the existence of any wall of
partition between believers themselves or between them and God. Before God all
specific distinction of the subject according to his standing or rank is done aw
ay with ; rank may exist, there may be slaves, but this is to be regarded as mer
ely accidental.
The contrast between the Christian and Mohammedan religions consists in the fact
that in Christ the spiritual element is developed in a concrete way, and is kno
wn as Trinity, i.e., as Spirit, and that the history of Man, the relation in whi
ch he stands to the One, is a concrete history. It takes its start from the natu
ral will, which is not as it ought to be, and the yielding up of this will is th
e act whereby it reaches this its essence by means of this negation of itself. T
he Mohammedan hates and f proscribes everything concrete, God is the absolute On
e, and as against Him Man retains for himself no end, no particularity, no inter
ests of his own. Man as actually existing does undoubtedly particularise himself
in his natural inclinations and interests, and these are here all the more sava
ge and unrestrained that reflection is wanting in connection with them ; but thi
s again involves something which is the complete opposite, namely, the tendency
to let everything take its course, an indifference in respect of every kind of e
nd, absolute fatalism, indifference in respect of life, while no practical end i
s regarded as having any essential worth. Since, however, Man is as a matter of
fact practical and active, the end to be pursued can only be to bring about the
worship of the One amongst all men, and accordingly the Mohammedan religion is e
ssentially fanatical.
Reflection, as we have seen, occupies the same standpoint as Mohammedanism in so
far as it maintains that God has no content, is not concrete. Thus the manifest
ation of God in the flesh, the exaltation of Christ to the position of Son of th
e God, the transfiguration of the finitude of the world and of self-consciousnes
s until they appear as the infinite self-determination of God, have no place her
e. Christianity is held to be a system of teaching or set of doctrines, and Chri
st an ambassador from God, a divine teacher, and so a teacher like Socrates, onl
y a still more distinguished teacher, since he was without sin. This, however, i
s to go only half way, it is a compromise. Christ was either merely a man, or he
was the " Son of Man." There would thus be nothing left of the divine history,
and Christ would be spoken of as he is in the Koran. The difference between this
standpoint and Mohammedanism consists merely in the fact that the latter, the c
onceptions of which are bathed in the ether of illimitableness, and which repres
ents this infinite independence, directly gives up all particular interests, enj
oyment, position, individual knowledge, all "vanity" in short. On the other hand
, rationalistic Enlightenment gives Man an abstract standing on his own account,
since for it God is beyond this world and has no affirmative relation to the su
bject, so that Man recognises the affirmative Universal only in so far as it is
in him, and yet has it in him in a merely abstract wa}', and accordingly what gi
ves it body or substance is taken only from what is accidental and arbitrary.
Still we must recognise the presence of reconciliation in this last form too, an
d thus this final manifestation is also a realisation of Faith. Since, in fact,
all content, all truth perishes in this particular subjectivity which knows itse
lf infinitely in itself, the principle of subjective freedom has as a consequenc
e come to be consciously known. What is called in the Spiritual Community the in
ner life, is now developed in itself ; it is not only something inward, conscien
ce, but it is subjectivity which differentiates itself makes distinctions within
itself, is concrete ; it appears as its own objectivity, it knows the Universal
as being in itself, as something which it produces out of itself, it is the sub
jectivity which is independent, for itself, self-conscious, determines itself wi
thin itself, and is thus the complete development of the subjective extreme unti
l it has reached the Idea in itself. The defect here is that this is merely form
al, that it misses having true objectivity, it represents the extreme point of f
ormal spiritual development without inner necessity. If the Idea is to get a tru
ly complete form, it is necessary that the objectivity should be set free, shoul
d be the totality of objectivity in itself.
The result of this objectivity, therefore, is, that everything in the subject is
refined away, without objectivity, without fixed character, without development
in God. This final and culminating point thus reached by the formal culture of
our day is at the same time the most extreme crudeness, because it possesses mer
ely the form of culture.
We have so far recognised the presence of these two mutually opposing extremes i
n the development of the Spiritual Community. The one was that unfreedom, that s
ervitude of the Spirit in the absolute region of freedom ; the other was abstrac
t subjectivity, subjective freedom without content.
3. What we have finally still to consider is, that subjectivity develops the con
tent out of itself, but does this in accordance with necessity knows and recogni
ses the content to be necessary and that it is objective, that it has an essenti
al existence of its own, is in-and-for-itself. This is the standpoint of philoso
phy, according to which the content takes refuge in the Notion and by means of t
hought gets its restoration and justification.
This thought is not merely the process of abstraction and determination which is
governed by the law of identity ; this thought is itself essentially concrete,
and thus it is comprehension, grasping in the Notion, it means that the Notion s
o determines itself as to take on the form of totality, of the Idea.
It is free reason which has an essential existence, is in-and-f oritself, which
develops the content of truth and justifies it in knowledge, recognises and cogn
ises one truth. The purely subjective standpoint, the volatilisation of all cont
ent, the Enlightenment of the Understanding, together with Pietism, do not recog
nise any content, and consequently no truth.
The Notion, however, prod-uves the truth this is subjective freedom but at the s
ame time recognises this content to be something not produced, to be something w
hich is inherent and essentially true, true in -and -for -itself. This objective
standpoint is alone capable of expressing and attesting the witness of the Spir
it in a way which betokens intellectual training and thought, and it is involved
in the position taken up by the better kind of dogmatic theology of our day.
This standpoint consequently supplies us with the justification of religion, and
in particular of the Christian or true religion ; it knows the content in accor
dance with its necessity, in accordance with its reason, and so, too, it knows t
he forms also in the development of this content.
What these forms are we have already seen, namely, the manifestation of God, tha
t representation for the sensuous, spiritual consciousness which has arrived at
universality, at thought, that complete development which exists for Spirit.
In the act of justifying the content and the forms, in getting a rational knowle
dge of the specific character of the manifestation, thought at the same time als
o knows the limits of the forms. Enlightenment knows only of negation, of limit,
of determinateness as such, and because of this is unjust to the content.
Form or determinateness is not merely finitude, or limit, but rather the form, a
s totality of the form is itself the Notion, and these forms are necessary and e
ssential.
Owing to the fact that reflection has invaded the domain of religion, thought or
reflection takes up a hostile attitude to the ordinary or popular idea in relig
ion and to its concrete content. Thought, when it has thus begun, never pauses a
gain, but goes on its way, empties feeling, heaven, and the knowing mind, and th
e religious content accordingly takes refuge in the Notion. Here it must get its
justification, here thought must conceive of itself as concrete and free, prese
rving the differences not as if they were only posited or dependent on something
, but allowing them to appear as free, and consequently recognising the content
as objective.
It is the business of philosophy to establish the relation in which thought stan
ds to the two preceding stages. Religion, the need felt by the pious mind, can t
ake refuge in " experience," in feeling, as well as in the Notion, and limit its
elf to this, and thus give up the search after truth, renounce the possibility o
f knowing any content, so that the Holy Church has no longer any communion in it
, but splits up into atoms. For what communion there is is in doctrine ; but her
e each individual has a feeling of his own, has his own sensations or experience
s, and his particular theory of the universe. This form does not answer to Spiri
t which also wishes to know what its relation is to doctrine. Philosophy thus st
ands opposed to two points of view. On the one hand, it appears to be opposed to
the Church, and has this in common with culture and reflection, that in compreh
ending the popular religious idea it does not keep to the forms of the popular i
dea> but has to comprehend it in thought, though in doing this it recognises tha
t the form of the popular idea is also necessary. But the Notion is that higher
element which also embraces within it different forms and allows their right to
exist. The second way in which it takes up an attitude of opposition is when it
appears in antagonism to Enlightenment, to the theory which holds that the conte
nt is of no consequence, to opinion, to the despair which renounces the truth. T
he aim of philosophy is to know the truth, to know God, for He is the absolute t
ruth, inasmuch as nothing else is worth troubling about save God and the unfoldi
ng of God's nature. Philosophy knows God as essentially concrete, as spiritual,
real universality which is not jealous but imparts itself. Light by its very nat
ure imparts itself. Whoever says that God cannot be known, says He is jealous, a
nd so makes no earnest effort to believe iu Him, however much he may speak of Go
d. Enlightenment, that conceit, that vanity of the Understanding is the most vio
lent opponent of philosophy, and is displeased when the latter points to the ele
ment of reason in the Christian religion, when it shows that the witness of the
Spirit, of truth, is lodged in religion. Philosophy, which is theology, is solel
y concerned with showing the rationality of religion.
In philosophy, religion gets its justification from thinking consciousness. Piet
y of the naive kind stands iu no need of this, it receives the truth as authorit
y, and experiences satisfaction, reconciliation by means of this truth.
In faith the true content is certainly already found, but there is still wanting
to it the form of thought. All forms such as we have already dealt with, feelin
g, popular ideas, and such like, may certainly have the form of truth, but they
themselves are not the true form which makes the true content necessary. Thought
is the absolute judge before which the content must verify and attest its claim
s.
Philosophy has been reproached with setting itself above religion ; this, howeve
r, is false as an actual matter of fact, for it possesses this particular conten
t only and no other, though it presents it in the form of thought ; it sets itse
lf merely above the form of faith, the content is the same in both cases. The fo
rm of the subject as an individual who feels, &c., concerns the subject as a sin
gle individual ; but feeling as such is not rejected by philosophy. The question
merely is as to whether the content of feeling is the truth, whether it can pro
ve itself to be true in thought. Philosophy thinks what the subject as such feel
s, and leaves it to the latter to settle with its feeling. Feeling is thus not r
ejected by philosophy ; on the contrary, it simply gets through philosophy its t
rue content.
But, in so far as thought begins to place itself in opposition to the concrete,
the process of thought then consists in carrying through this opposition until i
t reaches reconciliation. This reconciliation is philosophy ; so far philosophy
is theology, it sets forth the reconciliation of God with Himself and with Natur
e, and shows that Nature, Other-Being is divine, that it partly belongs to the v
ery nature of finite Spirit to rise into the state of reconciliation, and that i
t partly reaches this state of reconciliation in the history of the world.
This religious knowledge thus reached through the Notion is not universal in its
nature, and it is further only knowledge in the Spiritual Community, and thus w
e get in reference to the Kingdom of God three stages or positions : the first p
osition is that of immediate naive religion and faith ; the second, the position
of the Understanding, of the so-called cultured, of reflection and Enlightenmen
t ; and finally, the third position, the stage of philosophy.
But if now, after having considered the origin and permanent existence of the Sp
iritual Community, we see that in attaining realisation in its spiritual reality
it falls into this condition of inner disruption, then this realisation appears
to be at the same time its disappearance. But ought we to speak here of destruc
tion when the Kingdom of God is founded eternally, when the Holy Spirit as such
lives eternally in its Spiritual Community, and when the gates of Hell are not t
o prevail against the Church ? To speak of the Spiritual Community passing away
is to end with a discordant note.
Only, how can it be helped ? This discordant note is actually present in reality
. Just as in the time of the Roman Empire, because universal unity in religion h
ad disappeared, arid the Divine was profaned, and because, further, political li
fe was universally devoid of principle, of action, and of confidence, reason too
k refuge only in the form of private right, or, to put it otherwise, because wha
t was by its very nature essential, what existed in-and-for-itself was given up,
individual well-being was elevated to the rank of an end, so, too, is it now. M
oral views, individual opinion and conviction without objective truth, have atta
ined authority, and the pursuit of private rights and enjoyment is the order of
the day. When the time is fulfilled in which speculative justification, justific
ation by means of the Notion, is what is needed, then the unity of the outer and
inner no longer exists in immediate consciousness, in the world of reality, and
in the sphere of Faith nothing is justified. The rigidity of an objective comma
nd, an external direction, the power of the State can effect nothing here ; the
process of decay has gone too deep for that. When the Gospel is no longer preach
ed to the poor, when the salt has lost its savour, and all the foundations have
been tacitly removed, then the people, for whose ever solid reason truth can exi
st only in a pictorial conception, no longer know how to assist the impulses and
emotions they feel within them. They are nearest to the condition of infinite s
orrow ; but since love has been perverted to a love and enjoyment from which all
sorrow is absent, they seem to themselves to be deserted by their teachers. The
se latter have, it is true, brought help to themselves by means of reflection, a
nd have found their satisfaction in finitude, in subjectivity and its virtuosity
, and consequently in what is empty and vain, but the substantial kernel of the
people cannot find its satisfaction there. For us philosophical knowledge has ha
rmonised this discord, and the aim of these lectures has just been to reconcile
reason and religion, to show how we know this latter to be in all its manifold f
orms necessary, and to rediscover in revealed religion the truth and the Idea.
But this reconciliation is itself merely a partial one without outward universal
ity. Philosophy forms in this connection a sanctuary apart, and those who serve
in it constitute an isolated order of priests, who must not mix with the world,
and whose work is to protect the possessions of Truth. How the actual present-da
y world is to find its way out of this state of disruption, and what form it is
to take, are questions which must be left to itself to settle, and to deal with
them is not the immediate practical business and concern of philosophy.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF SPIRIT

SUBJECTIVE SPIRIT

Introduction
SECTION ONE - MIND SUBJECTIVE
A. ANTHROPOLOGY. The Soul
A. The Soul
B. Consciousness
C. Spirit

Introduction
§ 377
The knowledge of Mind is the highest and hardest, just because it is the most 'c
oncrete' of sciences. The significance of that 'absolute' commandment, Know thys
elf -- whether we look at it in itself or under the historical circumstances of
its first utterance -- is not to promote mere self-knowledge in respect of the p
articular capacities, character, propensities, and foibles of the single self. T
he knowledge it commands means that of man's genuine reality -- of what is essen
tially and ultimately true and real -- of mind as the true and essential being.
Equally little is it the purport of mental philosophy to teach what is called kn
owledge of men -- the knowledge whose aim is to detect the peculiarities, passio
ns, and foibles of other men, and lay bare what are called the recesses of the h
uman heart. Information of this kind is, for one thing, meaningless, unless on t
he assumption that we know the universal - man as man, and, that always must be,
as mind. And for another, being only engaged with casual, insignificant, and un
true aspects of mental life, it fails to reach the underlying essence of them al
l -- the mind itself.
§ 378
Pneumatology, or, as it was also called, Rational Psychology, has been already a
lluded to in the Introduction to the Logic as an abstract and generalizing metap
hysic of the subject. Empirical (or inductive) psychology, on the other hand, de
als with the 'concrete' mind: and, after the revival of the sciences, when obser
vation and experience had been made the distinctive methods for the study of con
crete reality, such psychology was worked on the same lines as other sciences. I
n this way it came about that the metaphysical theory was kept outside the induc
tive science, and so prevented from getting any concrete embodiment or detail: w
hilst at the same time the inductive science clung to the conventional common- s
ense metaphysics with its analysis into forces, various activities, etc., and re
jected any attempt at a 'speculative' treatment.
The books of Aristotle on the Soul, along with his discussions on its special as
pects and states, are for this reason still by far the most admirable, perhaps e
ven the sole, work of philosophical value on this topic. The main aim of a philo
sophy of mind can only be to reintroduce unity of idea and principle into the th
eory of mind, and so reinterpret the lesson of those Aristotelian books.
§ 379
Even our own sense of the mind's living unity naturally protests against any att
empt to break it up into different faculties, forces, or, what comes to the same
thing, activities, conceived as independent of each other. But the craving for
a comprehension of the unity is still further stimulated, as we soon come across
distinctions between mental freedom and mental determinism, antitheses between
free psychic agency and the corporeity that lies external to it, whilst we equal
ly note the intimate interdependence of the one upon the other. In modern times
especially the phenomena of animal magnetism have given, even in experience, a l
ively and visible confirmation of the underlying unity of soul, and of the power
of its 'ideality'. Before these facts, the rigid distinctions of practical comm
on sense are struck with confusion; and the necessity of a 'speculative' examina
tion with a view to the removal of difficulties is more directly forced upon the
student.
§ 380
The 'concrete' nature of mind involves for the observer the peculiar difficulty
that the several grades and special types which develop its intelligible unity i
n detail are not left standing as so many separate existences confronting its mo
re advanced aspects. It is otherwise in external nature. There, matter and movem
ent, for example, have a manifestation all their own -- it is the solar system;
and similarly the differentiae of sense-perception have a sort of earlier existe
nce in the properties of bodies, and still more independently in the four elemen
ts. The species and grades of mental evolution, on the contrary, lose their sepa
rate existence and become factors, states, and features in the higher grades of
development. As a consequence of this, a lower and more abstract aspect of mind
betrays the presence in it, even to experience, of a higher grade. Under the gui
se of sensation, for example, we may find the very highest mental life as its mo
dification or its embodiment. And so sensation, which is but a mere form and veh
icle, may to the superficial glance seem to be the proper seat and, as it were,
the source of those moral and religious principles with which it is charged; and
the moral and religious principles thus modified may seem to call for treatment
as species of sensation. But at the same time, when lower grades of mental life
are under examination, it becomes necessary, if we desire to point to actual ca
ses of them in experience, to direct attention to more advanced grades for which
they are mere forms. In this way subjects will be treated of by anticipation wh
ich properly belong to later stages of development (e.g. in dealing with natural
awaking from sleep we speak by anticipation of consciousness, or in dealing wit
h mental derangement we must speak of intellect).
What Mind is § 381
From our point of view mind has for its presupposition Nature, of which it is th
e truth, and for that reason its absolute prius. In this its truth Nature is van
ished, and mind has resulted as the 'Idea' entered on possession of itself. Here
the subject and object of the Idea are one -- either is the intelligent unity,
the notion. This identity is absolute negativity -- for whereas in Nature the in
telligent unity has its objectivity perfect but externalized, this self-external
ization has been nullified and the unity in that way been made one and the same
with itself. Thus at the same time it is this identity only so far as it is a re
turn out of nature.
§ 382
For this reason the essential, but formally essential, feature of mind is Libert
y: i.e. it is the notion's absolute negativity or self-identity. Considered as t
his formal aspect, it may withdraw itself from everything external and from its
own externality, its very existence; it can thus submit to infinite pain, the ne
gation of its individual immediacy: in other words, it can keep itself affirmati
ve in this negativity and possess its own identity. All this is possible so long
as it is considered in its abstract self-contained universality.
§ 383
This universality is also its determinate sphere of being. Having a being of its
own, the universal is self-particularizing, whilst it still remains self-identi
cal. Hence the special mode of mental being is 'manifestation'. The spirit is no
t some one mode or meaning which finds utterance or externality only in a form d
istinct from itself: it does not manifest or reveal something, but its very mode
and meaning is this revelation. And thus in its mere possibility mind is at the
same moment an infinite, 'absolute', actuality.
§ 384
Revelation, taken to mean the revelation of the abstract Idea, is an unmediated
transition to Nature which comes to be. As mind is free, its manifestation is to
set forth Nature as its world; but because it is reflection, it, in thus settin
g forth its world, at the same time presupposes the world as a nature independen
tly existing. In the intellectual sphere to reveal is thus to create a world as
its being -- a being in which the mind procures the affirmation and truth of its
freedom.
The Absolute is Mind (Spirit) -- this is the supreme definition of the Absolute.
To find this definition and to grasp its meaning and burden was, we may say, th
e ultimate purpose of all education and all philosophy: it was the point to whic
h turned the impulse of all religion and science: and it is this impulse that mu
st explain the history of the world. The word 'Mind' (Spirit) -- and some glimps
e of its meaning -- was found at an early period: and the spirituality of God is
the lesson of Christianity. It remains for philosophy in its own element of int
elligible unity to get hold of what was thus given as a mental image, and what i
mplicitly is the ultimate reality; and that problem is not genuinely, and by rat
ional methods, solved so long as liberty and intelligible unity is not the theme
and the soul of philosophy.
Subdivision § 385
The development of Mind (Spirit) is in three stages:
In the form of self-relation: within it it has the ideal totality of the Idea --
i.e. it has before it all that its notion contains: its being is to be self-con
tained and free. This is Mind Subjective.
In the form of reality: realized, i.e. in a world produced and to be produced by
it: in this world freedom presents itself under the shape of necessity. This is
Mind Objective.
In that unity of mind as objectivity and of mind as ideality and concept, which
essentially and actually is and for ever produces itself, mind in its absolute t
ruth. This is Mind Absolute.
§ 386
The two first parts of the doctrine of Mind embrace the finite mind. Mind is the
infinite Idea, and finitude here means the disproportion between the concept an
d the reality -- but with the qualification that it is a shadow cast by the mind
's own light -- a show or illusion which the mind implicitly imposes as a barrie
r to itself, in order, by its removal, actually to realize and become conscious
of freedom as its very being, i.e. to be fully manifested. The several steps of
this activity, on each of which, with their semblance of being, it is the functi
on of the finite mind to linger, and through which it has to pass, are steps in
its liberation. In the full truth of that liberation is given the identification
of the three stages -- finding a world presupposed before us, generating a worl
d as our own creation, and gaining freedom from it and in it. To the infinite fo
rm of this truth the show purifies itself till it becomes a consciousness of it.

A rigid application of the category of finitude by the abstract logician is chie

fly seen in dealing with Mind and reason: it is held not a mere matter of strict
logic, but treated also as a moral and religious concern, to adhere to the poin
t of view of finitude, and the wish to go further is reckoned a mark of audacity
, if not of insanity, of thought. Whereas in fact such a modesty of thought, as
treats the finite as something altogether fixed and absolute, is the worst of vi
rtues; and to stick to a post which has no sound ground in itself is the most un
sound sort of theory. The category of finitude was at a much earlier period eluc
idated and explained at its place in the Logic: an elucidation which, as in logi
c for the more specific though still simple thought-forms of finitude, so in the
rest of philosophy for the concrete forms, has merely to show that the finite i
s not, i.e. is not the truth, but merely a transition and an emergence to someth
ing higher. This finitude of the spheres so far examined is the dialectic that m
akes a thing have its cessation by another and in another: but Spirit, the intel
ligent unity and the implicit Eternal, is itself just the consummation of that i
nternal act by which nullity is nullified and vanity is made vain. And so, the m
odesty alluded to is a retention of this vanity -- the finite -- in opposition t
o the true: it is itself therefore vanity. In the course of the mind's developme
nt we shall see this vanity appear as wickedness at that turning-point at which
mind has reached its extreme immersion in its subjectivity and its most central
contradiction.

SECTION ONE - MIND SUBJECTIVE

§ 387
Mind, on the ideal stage of its development, is mind as cognitive. Cognition, ho
wever, being taken here not as a merely logical category of the Idea (§ 223), but
in the sense appropriate to the concrete mind.
Subjective mind is:
(A) Immediate or implicit: a soul -- the Spirit in Nature -- the object treated
by Anthropology.
(B) Mediate or explicit: still as identical reflection into itself and into othe
r things: mind in correlation or particularization: consciousness -- the object
treated by the Phenomenology of Mind.
(C) Mind defining itself in itself, as an independent subject -- the object trea
ted by Psychology.
In the Soul is the awaking of Consciousness: Consciousness sets itself up as Rea
son, awaking at one bound to the sense of its rationality: and this Reason by it
s activity emancipates itself to objectivity and the consciousness of its intell
igent unity.
For an intelligible unity or principle of comprehension each modification it pre
sents is an advance of development: and so in mind every character under which i
t appears is a stage in a process of specification and development, a step forwa
rd towards its goal, in order to make itself into, and to realize in itself, wha
t it implicitly is. Each step, again, is itself such a process, and its product
is that what the mind was implicitly at the beginning (and so for the observer)
it is for itself -- for the special form, viz. which the mind has in that step.
The ordinary method of psychology is to narrate what the mind or soul is, what h
appens to it, what it does. The soul is presupposed as a ready-made agent, which
displays such features as its acts and utterances, from which we can learn what
it is, what sort of faculties and powers it possesses -- all without being awar
e that the act and utterance of what the soul is really invests it with that cha
racter in our conception and makes it reach a higher stage of being than it expl
icitly had before.
We must, however, distinguish and keep apart from the progress here to be studie
d what we call education and instruction. The sphere of education is the individ
uals only: and its aim is to bring the universal mind to exist in them. But in t
he philosophic theory of mind, mind is studied as self-instruction and self-educ
ation in very essence; and its acts and utterances are stages in the process whi
ch brings it forward to itself, links it in unity with itself, and so makes it a
ctual mind.

A. ANTHROPOLOGY. The Soul

(a) The Physical Soul - (b) The Feeling Soul - (c) The Actual Soul
Spirit (Mind) came into being as the truth of Nature. But not merely is it, as s
uch a result, to be held the true and real first of what went before: this becom
ing or transition bears in the sphere of the notion the special meaning of 'free
judgement'. Mind, thus come into being, means therefore that Nature in its own
self realizes its untruth and sets itself aside: it means that Mind presupposes
itself no longer as the universality which in corporal individuality is always s
elf-externalized, but as a universality which in its concretion and totality is
one and simple. At such a stage it is not yet mind, but soul.
§ 389
The soul is no separate immaterial entity. Wherever there is Nature, the soul is
its universal immaterialism, its simple 'ideal' life. Soul is the substance or
'absolute' basis of all the particularizing and individualizing of mind: it is i
n the soul that mind finds the material on which its character is wrought, and t
he soul remains the pervading, identical ideality of it all. But as it is still
conceived thus abstractly, the soul is only the sleep of mind -- the passive of
Aristotle, which is potentially all things.
The question of the immateriality of the soul has no interest, except where, on
the one hand, matter is regarded as something true, and mind conceived as a thin
g, on the other. But in modern times even the physicists have found matters grow
thinner in their hands: they have come upon imponderable matters, like heat, li
ght, etc., to which they might perhaps add space and time. These 'imponderables'
, which have lost the property (peculiar to matter) of gravity and, in a sense,
even the capacity of offering resistance, have still, however, a sensible existe
nce and outness of part to part; whereas the 'vital' matter, which may also be f
ound enumerated among them, not merely lacks gravity, but even every other aspec
t of existence which might lead us to treat it as material.
The fact is that in the Idea of Life the self-externalism of nature is implicitl
y at an end: subjectivity is the very substance and conception of life -- with t
his proviso, however, that its existence or objectivity is still at the same tim
e forfeited to the away of self-externalism. It is otherwise with Mind. There, i
n the intelligible unity which exists as freedom, as absolute negativity, and no
t as the immediate or natural individual, the object or the reality of the intel
ligible unity is the unity itself; and so the self-externalism, which is the fun
damental feature of matter, has been completely dissipated and transmuted into u
niversality, or the subjective ideality of the conceptual unity. Mind is the exi
stent truth of matter -- the truth that matter itself has no truth.
A cognate question is that of the community of soul and body. This community (in
terdependence) was assumed as a fact, and the only problem was how to comprehend
it. The usual answer, perhaps, was to call it an incomprehensible mystery; and,
indeed, if we take them to be absolutely antithetical and absolutely independen
t, they are as impenetrable to each other as one piece of matter to another, eac
h being supposed to be found only in the pores of the other, i.e. where the othe
r is not -- whence Epicurus, when attributing to the gods a residence in the por
es, was consistent in not imposing on them any connection with the world. A some
what different answer has been given by all philosophers since this relation cam
e to be expressly discussed. Descartes, Malebranche, Spinoza, and Leibniz have a
ll indicated God as this nexus. They meant that the finitude of soul and matter
were only ideal and unreal distinctions; and, so holding, there philosophers too
k God, not, as so often is done, merely as another word for the incomprehensible
, but rather as the sole true identity of finite mind and matter. But either thi
s identity, as in the case of Spinoza, is too abstract, or, as in the case of Le
ibniz, though his Monad of monads brings things into being, it does so only by a
n act of judgement or choice. Hence, with Leibniz, the result is a distinction b
etween soul and the corporeal (or material), and the identity is only like the c
opula of a judgement, and does not rise or develop into system, into the absolut
e syllogism.
§ 390
The Soul is at first -
(a) In its immediate natural mode -- the natural soul, which only is.
(b) Secondly, it is a soul which feels, as individualized, enters into correlati
on with its immediate being, and, in the modes of that being, retains an abstrac
t independence.
(c) Thirdly, its immediate being -- or corporeity -- is moulded into it, and wit
h that corporeity it exists as actual soul.
(a) THE PHYSICAL SOUL § 391
The soul universal, described, it may be, as an anima mundi, a world-soul, must
not be fixed on that account as a single subject; it is rather the universal sub
stance which has its actual truth only in individuals and single subjects. Thus,
when it presents itself as a single soul, it is a single soul which is merely:
its only modes are modes of natural life. These have, so to speak, behind its id
eality a free existence: i.e. they are natural objects for consciousness, but ob
jects to which the soul as such does not behave as to something external. These
features rather are physical qualities of which it finds itself possessed.
i. Physical Qualities § 392
(1) While still a 'substance' (i.e. a physical soul) the mind takes part in the
general planetary life, feels the difference of climates, the changes of the sea
sons, and the periods of the day, etc. This life of nature for the main shows it
self only in occasional strain or disturbance of mental tone.
In recent times a good deal has been said of the cosmical, sidereal, and telluri
c life of man. In such a sympathy with nature the animals essentially live: thei
r specific characters and their particular phases of growth depend, in many case
s completely, and always more or less, upon it. In the case of man these points
of dependence lose importance, just in proportion to his civilization, and the m
ore his whole frame of soul is based upon a sub-structure of mental freedom. The
history of the world is not bound up with revolutions in the solar system, any
more than the destinies of individuals with the positions of the planets.
The difference of climate has a more solid and vigorous influence. But the respo
nse to the changes of the seasons and hours of the day is found only in faint ch
anges of mood, which come expressly to the fore only in morbid states (including
insanity) and at periods when the self-conscious life suffers depression.
In nations less intellectually emancipated, which therefore live more in harmony
with nature, we find amid their superstitions and aberrations of imbecility a f
ew real cases of such sympathy, and on that foundation what seems to be marvello
us prophetic vision of coming conditions and of events arising therefrom. But as
mental freedom gets a deeper hold, even these few and slight susceptibilities,
based upon participation in the common life of nature, disappear. Animals and pl
ants, on the contrary, remain for ever subject to such influences.
§ 393
(2) According to the concrete differences of the terrestrial globe, the general
planetary life of the nature-governed mind specializes itself and breaks up into
the several nature-governed minds which, on the whole, give expression to the n
ature of the geographical continents and constitute the diversities of race.
The contrast between the earth's poles, the land towards the north pole being mo
re aggregated and preponderant over sea, whereas in the southern hemisphere it r
uns out in sharp points, widely distant from each other, introduces into the dif
ferences of continents a further modification which Treviranus (Biology, Part II
) has exhibited in the case of the flora and fauna.
§ 394
This diversity descends into specialities, that may be termed local minds -- sho
wn in the outward modes of life and occupation, bodily structure and disposition
, but still more in the inner tendency and capacity of the intellectual and mora
l character of the several peoples.
Back to the very beginnings of national history we see the several nations each
possessing a persistent type of its own.
§ 395
(3) The soul is further de-universalized into the individualized subject. But th
is subjectivity is here only considered as a differentiation and singling out of
the modes which nature gives; we find it as the special temperament, talent, ch
aracter, physiognomy, or other disposition and idiosyncrasy, of families or sing
le individuals.
ii. Physical Alterations § 396
Taking the soul as an individual, we find its diversities, as alterations in it,
the one permanent subject, and as stages in its development. As they are at onc
e physical and mental diversities, a more concrete definition or description of
them would require us to anticipate an acquaintance with the formed and matured
mind.
(1) The first of these is the natural lapse of the ages in man's life. He begins
with Childhood -- mind wrapped up in itself. His next step is the fully develop
ed antithesis, the strain and struggle of a universality which is still subjecti
ve (as seen in ideals, fancies, hopes, ambitions) against his immediate individu
ality. And that individuality marks both the world which, as it exists, fails to
meet his ideal requirements, and the position of the individual himself, who is
still short of independence and not fully equipped for the part he has to play
(Youth). Thirdly, we see man in his true relation to his environment, recognizin
g the objective necessity and reasonableness of the world as he finds it -- a wo
rld no longer incomplete, but able in the work which it collectively achieves to
afford the individual a place and a security for his performance. By his share
in this collective work he first is really somebody, gaining an effective existe
nce and an objective value (Manhood). Last of all comes the finishing touch to t
his unity with objectivity: a unity which, while on its realist side it passes i
nto the inertia of deadening habit, on its idealist side gains freedom from the
limited interests and entanglements of the outward present (Old Age).
§ 397
(2) Next we find the individual subject to a real antithesis, leading it to seek
and find itself in another individual. This -- the sexual relation -- on a phys
ical basis, shows, on its one side, subjectivity remaining in an instinctive and
emotional harmony of moral life and love, and not pushing these tendencies to a
n extreme universal phase, in purposes political, scientific, or artistic; and o
n the other, shows an active half, where the individual is the vehicle of a stru
ggle of universal and objective interests with the given conditions (both of his
own existence and of that of the external world), carrying out these universal
principles into a unity with the world which is his own work. The sexual tie acq
uires its moral and spiritual significance and function in the family.
§ 398
(3) When the individuality, or self-centralized being, distinguishes itself from
its mere being, this immediate judgement is the waking of the soul, which confr
onts its self-absorbed natural life, in the first instance, as one natural quali
ty and state confronts another state, viz. sleep.-- The waking is not merely for
the observer, or externally distinct from the sleep: it is itself the judgement
(primary partition) of the individual soul -- which is self-existing only as it
relates its self-existence to its mere existence, distinguishing itself from it
s still undifferentiated universality. The waking state includes generally all s
elf-conscious and rational activity in which the mind realizes its own distinct
self.-- Sleep is an invigoration of this activity -- not as a merely negative re
st from it, but as a return back from the world of specialization, from dispersi
on into phases where it has grown hard and stiff -- a return into the general na
ture of subjectivity, which is the substance of those specialized energies and t
heir absolute master.
The distinction between sleep and waking is one of those posers, as they may be
called, which are often addressed to philosophy:-- Napoleon, for example, on a v
isit to the University of Pavia, put this question to the class of ideology. The
characterization given in the section is abstract; it primarily treats waking m
erely as a natural fact, containing the mental element implicate but not yet as
invested with a special being of its own. If we are to speak more concretely of
this distinction (in fundamentals it remains the same), we must take the self-ex
istence of the individual soul in its higher aspects as the Ego of consciousness
and as intelligent mind. The difficulty raised anent the distinction of the two
states properly arises, only when we also take into account the dreams in sleep
and describe these dreams, as well as the mental representations in the sober w
aking consciousness under one and the same title of mental representations. Thus
superficially classified as states of mental representation the two coincide, b
ecause we have lost sight of the difference; and in the case of any assignable d
istinction of waking consciousness, we can always return to the trivial remark t
hat all this is nothing more than mental idea. But the concrete theory of the wa
kin soul in its realized being views it as consciousness and intellect: and the
world of intelligent consciousness is something quite different from a picture o
f mere ideas and images. The latter are in the main only externally conjoined, i
n an unintelligent way, by the laws of the so-called Association of Ideas; thoug
h here and there of course logical principles may also be operative. But in the
waking state man behaves essentially as a concrete ego, an intelligence: and bec
ause of this intelligence his sense-perception stands before him as a concrete t
otality of features in which each member, each point, takes up its place as at t
he same time determined through and with all the rest. Thus the facts embodied i
n his sensation are authenticated, not by his mere subjective representation and
distinction of the facts as something external from the person, but by virtue o
f the concrete interconnection in which each part stands with all parts of this
complex. The waking state is the concrete consciousness of this mutual corrobora
tion of each single factor of its content by all the others in the picture as pe
rceived. The consciousness of this interdependence need not be explicit and dist
inct. Still this general setting to all sensations is implicitly present in the
concrete feeling of self.-- In order to see the difference between dreaming and
waking we need only keep in view the Kantian distinction between subjectivity an
d objectivity of mental representation (the latter depending upon determination
through categories): remembering, as already noted, that what is actually presen
t in mind need not be therefore explicitly realized in consciousness, just as li
ttle as the exaltation of the intellectual sense to God need stand before consci
ousness in the shape of proofs of God's existence, although, as before explained
, these proofs only serve to express the net worth and content of that feeling.
§ 399
Sleep and waking are, primarily, it is true, not mere alterations, but alternati
ng conditions (a progression in infinitum). This is their formal and negative re
lationship: but in it the affirmative relationship is also involved. In the self
-certified existence of waking soul its mere existence is implicit as an 'ideal'
factor: the features which make up its sleeping nature, where they are implicit
ly as in their substance, are found by the waking soul, in its own self, and, be
it noted, for itself. The fact that these particulars, though as a mode of mind
they are distinguished from the self- identity of our self-centred being, are y
et simply contained in its simplicity, is what we call sensibility.
§ 400
Sensibility (feeling) is the form of the dull stirring, the inarticulate breathi
ng, of the spirit through its unconscious and unintelligent individuality, where
every definite feature is still 'immediate' -- neither specially developed in i
ts content nor set in distinction as objective to subject, but treated as belong
ing to its most special, its natural peculiarity. The content of sensation is th
us limited and transient, belonging as it does to natural, immediate being -- to
what is therefore qualitative and finite.
Everything is in sensation (feeling): if you will, everything that emerges in co
nscious intelligence and in reason has its source and origin in sensation; for s
ource and origin just means the first immediate manner in which a thing appears.
Let it not be enough to have principles and religion only in the head: they mus
t also be in the heart, in the feeling. What we merely have in the head is in co
nsciousness, in a general way: the facts of it are objective -- set over against
consciousness, so that as it is put in me (my abstract ego) it can also be kept
away and apart from me (from my concrete subjectivity). But if put in the feeli
ng, the fact is a mode of my individuality, however crude that individuality be
in such a form: it is thus treated as my very own. My own is something inseparat
e from the actual concrete self: and this immediate unity of the soul with its u
nderlying self in all its definite content is just this inseparability; which, h
owever, yet falls short of the ego of developed consciousness, and still more of
 the freedom of rational mind-life. It is with a quite different intensity and p
ermanency that the will, the conscience, and the character, are our very own, th
an can ever be true of feeling and of the group of feelings (the heart): and thi
s we need no philosophy to tell us. No doubt it is correct to say that above eve
rything the heart must be good. But feeling and heart is not the form by which a
nything is legitimated as religious, moral, true, just, etc., and an appeal to h
eart and feeling either means nothing or means something bad. This should hardly
need enforcing. Can any experience be more trite than that feelings and hearts
are also bad, evil, godless, mean, etc.? That the heart is the source only of su
ch feelings is stated in the words: 'From the heart proceed evil thoughts, murde
r, adultery, fornication, blasphemy, etc.' In such times when 'scientific' theol
ogy and philosophy make the heart and feeling the criterion of what is good, mor
al, and religious, it is necessary to remind them of these trite experiences; ju
st as it is nowadays necessary to repeat that thinking is the characteristic pro
perty by which man is distinguished from the beasts, and that he has feeling in
common with them.
§ 401
What the sentient soul finds within it is, on one hand, the naturally immediate,
as 'ideally' in it and made its own. On the other hand and conversely, what ori
ginally belongs to the central individuality (which as further deepened and enla
rged is the conscious ego and free mind) gets the features of the natural corpor
eity, and is so felt. In this way we have two spheres of feeling. One, where wha
t at first is a corporeal affection (e.g. of the eye or of any bodily part whate
ver) is made feeling (sensation) by being driven inward, memorized in the soul's
self-centred part. Another, where affections originating in the mind and belong
ing to it, are in order to be felt, and to be as if found, invested with corpore
ity. Thus the mode or affection gets a place in the subject: it is felt in the s
oul. The detailed specification of the former branch of sensibility is seen in t
he system of the senses. But the other or inwardly originated modes of feeling n
o less necessarily systematize themselves; and their corporization, as put in th
e living and concretely developed natural being, works itself out, following the
special character of the mental mode, in a special system of bodily organs.
Sensibility in general is the healthy fellowship of the individual mind in the l
ife of its bodily part. The senses form the simple system of corporeity specifie
d.
(a) The 'ideal' side of physical things breaks up into two -- because in it, as
immediate and not yet subjective ideality, distinction appears as mere variety -
- the senses of definite light, (§ 317) -- and of sound, (§ 300). The 'real' aspect
similarly is with its difference double:
(b) the senses of smell and taste, (§§ 321, 322);
(c) the sense of solid reality, of heavy matter, of heat (§ 303) and shape (§ 310).
Around the centre of the sentient individuality these specifications arrange the
mselves more simply than when they are developed in the natural corporeity.
The system by which the internal sensation comes to give itself specific bodily
forms would deserve to be treated in detail in a peculiar science -- a psychical
physiology. Somewhat pointing to such a system is implied in the feeling of the
appropriateness or inappropriateness of an immediate sensation to the persisten
t tone of internal sensibility (the pleasant and unpleasant): as also in the dis
tinct parallelism which underlies the symbolical employment of sensations, e.g.
of colours, tones, smells. But the most interesting side of a psychical physiolo
gy would lie in studying not the mere sympathy, but more definitely the bodily f
orm adopted by certain mental modifications, especially the passions or emotions
. We should have, for example, to explain the line of connection by which anger
and courage are felt in the breast, the blood, the 'irritable' system, just as t
hinking and mental occupation are felt in the head, the centre of the 'sensible'
system. We should want a more satisfactory explanation than hitherto of the mos
t familar connections by which tears, and voice in general, with its varieties o
f language, laughter, sighs, with many other specializations lying in the line o
f pathognomy and physiognomy, are formed from their mental source. In physiology
the viscera and the organs are treated merely as parts subservient to the anima
l organism; but they form at the same time a physical system for the expression
of mental states, and in this way they get quite another interpretation.
§ 402
Sensations, just because they are immediate and are found existing, are single a
nd transient aspects of psychic life -- alterations in the substantiality of the
soul, set in its self-centred life, with which that substance is one. But this
self-centred being is not merely a formal factor of sensation: the soul is virtu
ally a reflected totality of sensations -- it feels in itself the total substant
iality which it virtually is -- it is a soul which feels.
In the usage of ordinary language, sensation and feeling are not clearly disting
uished: still we do not speak of the sensation -- but of the feeling (sense) of
right, of self; sentimentality (sensibility) is connected with sensation: we may
therefore say sensation emphasizes rather the side of passivity-the fact that w
e find ourselves feeling, i.e. the immediacy of mode in feeling -- whereas feeli
ng at the same time rather notes the fact that it is we ourselves who feel.
(b) THE FEELING SOUL - (Soul as Sentiency) § 403
The feeling or sentient individual is the simple 'ideality' or subjective side o
f sensation. What it has to do, therefore, is to raise its substantiality, its m
erely virtual filling-up, to the character of subjectivity, to take possession o
f it, to realize its mastery over its own. As sentient, the soul is no longer a
mere natural, but an inward, individuality: the individuality which in the merel
y substantial totality was only formal to it has to be liberated and made indepe
ndent.
Nowhere so much as in the case of the soul (and still more of the mind) if we ar
e to understand it, must that feature of 'ideality' be kept in view, which repre
sents it as the negation of the real, but a negation, where the real is put past
, virtually retained, although it does not exist. The feature is one with which
we are familiar in regard to our mental ideas or to memory. Every individual is
an infinite treasury of sensations, ideas, acquired lore, thoughts, etc.; and ye
t the ego is one and uncompounded, a deep featureless characterless mine, in whi
ch all this is stored up, without existing. It is only when I call to mind an id
ea, that I bring it out of that interior to existence before consciousness. Some
times, in sickness, ideas and information, supposed to have been forgotten years
ago, because for so long they had not been brought into consciousness, once mor
e come to light. They were not in our possession, nor by such reproduction as oc
curs in sickness do they for the future come into our possession; and yet they w
ere in us and continue to be in us still. Thus a person can never know how much
of things he once learned he really has in him, should he have once forgotten th
em: they belong not to his actuality or subjectivity as such, but only to his im
plicit self. And under all the superstructure of specialized and instrumental co
nsciousness that may subsequently be added to it, the individuality always remai
ns this single-souled inner life. At the present stage this singleness is, prima
rily, to be defined as one of feeling -- as embracing the corporeal in itself: t
hus denying the view that this body is something material, with parts outside pa
rts and outside the soul. Just as the number and variety of mental representatio
ns is no argument for an extended and real multeity in the ego; so the 'real' ou
tness of parts in the body has no truth for the sentient soul. As sentient, the
soul is characterized as immediate, and so as natural and corporeal: but the out
ness of parts and sensible multiplicity of this corporeal counts for the soul (a
s it counts for the intelligible unity) not as anything real, and therefore not
as a barrier: the soul is this intelligible unity in existence -- the existent s
peculative principle. Thus in the body it is one simple, omnipresent unity. As t
o the representative faculty the body is but one representation, and the infinit
e variety of its material structure and organization is reduced to the simplicit
y of one definite conception: so in the sentient soul, the corporeity, and all t
hat outness of parts to parts which belongs to it, is reduced to ideality (the t
ruth of the natural multiplicity). The soul is virtually the totality of nature:
as an individual soul it is a monad: it is itself the explicitly put totality o
f its particular world -- that world being included in it and filling it up; and
to that world it stands but as to itself.
§ 404
As individual, the soul is exclusive and always exclusive: any difference there
is, it brings within itself. What is differentiated from it is as yet no externa
l object (as in consciousness), but only the aspects of its own sentient totalit
y, etc. In this partition (judgement) of itself it is always subject: its object
is its substance, which is at the same time its predicate. This substance is st
ill the content of its natural life, but turned into the content of the individu
al sensation-laden soul; yet as the soul is in that content still particular, th
e content is its particular world, so far as that is, in an implicit mode, inclu
ded in the ideality of the subject.
By itself, this stage of mind is the stage of its darkness: its features are not
developed to conscious and intelligent content: so far it is formal and only fo
rmal. It acquires a peculiar interest in cases where it is as a form and appears
as a special state of mind (§ 380), to which the soul, which has already advanced
to consciousness and intelligence, may again sink down. But when a truer phase
of mind thus exists in a more subordinate and abstract one, it implies a want of
adaptation, which is disease. In the present stage we must treat, first, of the
abstract psychical modifications by themselves, secondly, as morbid states of m
ind: the latter being only explicable by means of the former.
(a) The feeling soul in its immediacy
i. The Psychical Tie § 405
Though the sensitive individuality is undoubtedly a monadic individual, it is, b
ecause immediate, not yet as its self, not a true subject reflected into itself,
and is therefore passive. Hence the individuality of its true self is a differe
nt subject from it -- a subject which may even exist as another individual. By t
he self-hood of the latter it -- a substance, which is only a non-independent pr
edicate -- is then set in vibration and controlled without the least resistance
on its part. This other subject by which it is so controlled may be called its g
enius.
In the ordinary course of nature this is the condition of the child in its mothe
r's womb:-- a condition neither merely bodily nor merely mental, but psychical -
- a correlation of soul to soul. Here are two individuals, yet in undivided psyc
hic unity: the one as yet no self, as yet nothing impenetrable, incapable of res
istance: the other is its actuating subject, the single self of the two. The mot
her is the genius of the child; for by genius we commonly mean the total mental
self-hood, as it has existence of its own, and constitutes the subjective substa
ntiality of some one else who is only externally treated as an individual and ha
s only a nominal independence. The underlying essence of the genius is the sum t
otal of existence, of life, and of character, not as a mere possibility, or capa
city, or virtuality, but as efficiency and realized activity, as concrete subjec
tivity.
If we look only to the spatial and material aspects of the child's existence as
an embryo in its special integuments, and as connected with the mother by means
of umbilical cord, placenta, etc., all that is presented to the senses and refle
ction are certain anatomical and physiological facts -- externalities and instru
mentalities in the sensible and material which are insignificant as regards the
main point, the psychical relationship. What ought to be noted as regards this p
sychical tie are not merely the striking effects communicated to and stamped upo
n the child by violent emotions, injuries, etc., of the mother, but the whole ps
ychical judgement (partition) of the underlying nature, by which the female (lik
e the monocotyledons among vegetables) can suffer disruption in twain, so that t
he child has not merely got communicated to it, but has originally received morb
id dispositions as well as other predispositions of shape, temper, character, ta
lent, idiosyncrasies, etc.
Sporadic examples and traces of this magic tie appear elsewhere in the range of
self-possessed conscious life, say between friends, especially female friends wi
th delicate nerves (a tie which may go so far as to show 'magnetic' phenomena),
between husband and wife and between members of the same family.
The total sensitivity has its self here in a separate subjectivity, which, in th
e case cited of this sentient life in the ordinary course of nature, is visibly
present as another and a different individual. But this sensitive totality is me
ant to elevate its self-hood out of itself to subjectivity in one and the same i
ndividual: which is then its indwelling consciousness, self-possessed, intellige
nt, and reasonable. For such a consciousness the merely sentient life serves as
an underlying and only implicitly existent material; and the self-possessed subj
ectivity is the rational, self-conscious, controlling genius thereof. But this s
ensitive nucleus includes not merely the purely unconscious, congenital disposit
ion and temperament, but within its enveloping simplicity it acquires and retain
s also (in habit, as to which see later) all further ties and essential relation
ships, fortunes, principles-everything in short belonging to the character, and
in whose elaboration self-conscious activity has most effectively participated.
The sensitivity is thus a soul in which the whole mental life is condensed. The
total individual under this concentrated aspect is distinct from the existing an
d actual play of his consciousness, his secular ideas, developed interests, incl
inations, etc. As contrasted with this looser aggregate of means and methods the
more intensive form of individuality is termed the genius, whose decision is ul
timate whatever may be the show of reasons, intentions, means, of which the more
public consciousness is so liberal. This concentrated individuality also reveal
s itself under the aspect of what is called the heart and soul of feeling. A man
is said to be heartless and unfeeling when he looks at things with self-possess
ion and acts according to his permanent purposes, be they great substantial aims
or petty and unjust interests: a good-hearted man, on the other hand, means rat
her one who is at the mercy of his individual sentiment, even when it is of narr
ow range and is wholly made up of particularities. Of such good nature or goodne
ss of heart it may be said that it is less the genius itself than the indulgere
genio.
ii. Rapport § 406
The sensitive life, when it becomes a form or state of the self-conscious, educa
ted, self-possessed human being is a disease. The individual in such a morbid st
ate stands in direct contact with the concrete contents of his own self, whilst
he keeps his self-possessed consciousness of self and of the causal order of thi
ngs apart as a distinct state of mind. This morbid condition is seen in magnetic
somnambulism and cognate states.
In this summary encyclopaedic account it is impossible to supply a demonstration
 of what the paragraph states as the nature of the remarkable condition produced
chiefly by animal magnetism -- to show, in other words, that it is in harmony w
ith the facts. To that end the phenomena, so complex in their nature and so very
different one from another, would have first of all to be brought under their g
eneral points of view. The facts, it might seem, first of all call for verificat
ion. But such a verification would, it must be added, be superfluous for those o
n whose account it was called for: for they facilitate the inquiry for themselve
s by declaring the narratives -- infinitely numerous though they be and accredit
ed by the education and character of the witnesses -- to be mere deception and i
mposture. The a priori conceptions of these inquirers are so rooted that no test
imony can avail against them, and they have even denied what they have seen with
their own eyes. In order to believe in this department even what one's own eyes
have seen and still more to understand it, the first requisite is not to be in
bondage to the hard and fast categories of the practical intellect. The chief po
ints on which the discussion turns may here be given:
(a) To the concrete existence of the individual belongs the aggregate of.his fun
damental interests, both the essential and the particular empirical ties which c
onnect him with other men and the world at large. This totality forms his actual
ity, in the sense that it lies in fact immanent in him; it has already been call
ed his genius. This genius is not the free mind which wills and thinks: the form
of sensitivity, in which the individual here appears innnersed, is, on the cont
rary, a surrender of his self-possessed intelligent existence. The first conclus
ion to which these considerations lead, with reference to the contents of consci
ousness in the somnambulist stage, is that it is only the range of his individua
lly moulded world (of his private interests and narrow relationships) which appe
ar there. Scientific theories and philosophic conceptions or general truths requ
ire a different soil -- require an intelligence which has risen out of the inart
iculate mass of mere sensitivity to free consciousness. It is foolish therefore
to expect revelations about the higher ideas from the somnambulist state.
(b) Where a human being's senses and intellect are sound, he is fully and intell
igently alive to that reality of his which gives concrete filling to his individ
uality: but he is awake to it in the form of interconnection between himself and
the features of that reality conceived as an external and a separate world, and
he is aware that this world is in itself also a complex of interconnections of
a practically intelligible kind. In his subjective ideas and plans he has also b
efore him this causally connected scheme of things he calls his world and the se
ries of means which bring his ideas and his purposes into adjustment with the ob
jective existences, which are also means and ends to each other. At the same tim
e, this world which is outside him has its threads in him to such a degree that
it is these threads which make him what he really is: he too would become extinc
t if these externalities were to disappear, unless by the aid of religion, subje
ctive reason, and character, he is in a remarkable degree self-supporting and in
dependent of them. But, then, in the latter case he is less susceptible of the p
sychical state here spoken of.-- As an illustration of that identity with the su
rroundings may be noted the effect produced by the death of beloved relatives, f
riends, etc. on those left behind, so that the one dies or pines away with the l
oss of the other. (Thus Cato, after the downfall of the Roman republic, could li
ve no longer: his inner reality was neither wider nor higher than it.) Compare h
ome-sickness, and the like.
(c) But when all that occupies the waking consciousness, the world outside it an
d its relationship to that world, is under a veil, and the soul is thus sunk in
sleep (in magnetic sleep, in catalepsy, and other diseases, for example, those c
onnected with female development, or at the approach of death, etc.), then that
immanent actuality of the individual remains the same substantial total as befor
e, but now as a purely sensitive life with an inward vision and an inward consci
ousness. And because it is the adult, formed, and developed consciousness which
is degraded into this state of sensitivity, it retains along with its content a
certain nominal self-hood, a formal vision and awareness, which, however, does n
ot go so far as the conscious judgement or discernment by which its contents, wh
en it is healthy and awake, exist for it as an outward objectivity. The individu
al is thus a monad which is inwardly aware of its actuality -- a genius which be
holds itself. The characteristic point in such knowledge is that the very same f
acts (which for the healthy consciousness are an objective practical reality, an
d to know which, in its sober moods, it needs the intelligent chain of means and
conditions in all their real expansion) are now immediately known and perceived
in this immanence. This perception is a sort of clairvoyance; for it is a consc
iousness living in the undivided substantiality of the genius, and finding itsel
f in the very heart of the interconnection, and so can dispense with the series
of conditions, external one to another, which lead up to the result -- condition
s which cool reflection has in succession to traverse and in so doing feels the
limits of its own external individuality. But such clairvoyance -- just because
its dim and turbid vision does not present the facts in a rational interconnecti
on -- is for that very reason at the mercy of every private contingency of feeli
ng and fancy, etc. -- not to mention that foreign suggestions (see later) intrud
e into its vision. It is thus impossible to make out whether what the clairvoyan
ts really see preponderates over what they deceive themselves in.-- But it is ab
surd to treat this visionary state as a sublime mental phase and as a truer stat
e, capable of conveying general truths.
(d) An essential feature of this sensitivity, with its absence of intelligent an
d volitional personality, is this, that it is a state of passivity, like that of
the child in the womb. The patient in this condition is accordingly made, and c
ontinues to be, subject to the power of another person, the magnetizer; so that
when the two are thus in psychical rapport, the selfless individual, not really
a 'person', has for his subjective consciousness the consciousness of the other.
This latter self-possessed individual is thus the effective subjective soul of
the former, and the genius which may even supply him with a train of ideas. That
the somnambulist perceives in himself tastes and smells which are present in th
e person with whom he stands en rapport, and that he is aware of the other inner
ideas and present perceptions of the latter as if they were his own, shows the
substantial identity which the soul (which even in its concreteness is also trul
y immaterial) is capable of holding with another. When the substance of both is
thus made one, there is only one subjectivity of consciousness: the patient has
a sort of individuality, but it is empty, not on the spot, not actual: and this
nominal self accordingly derives its whole stock of ideas from the sensations an
d ideas of the other, in whom it sees, smells, tastes, reads, and hears. It is f
urther to be noted on this point that the somnambulist is thus brought into rapp
ort with two genii and a twofold set of ideas, his own and that of the magnetize
r. But it is impossible to say precisely which sensations and which visions he,
in this nominal perception, receives, beholds, and brings to knowledge from his
own inward self, and which from the suggestions of the person with whom he stand
s in relation. This uncertainty may be the source of many deceptions, and accoun
ts among other things for the diversity that inevitably shows itself among sonma
mbulists from different countries and under rapport with persons of different ed
ucation, as regards their views on morbid states and the methods of cure, or med
icines for them, as well as on scientific and intellectual topics.
(e) As in this sensitive substantiality there is no contrast to external objecti
vity, so within itself the subject is so entirely one that all varieties of sens
ation have disappeared, and hence, when the activity of the sense-organs is asle
ep, the 'common sense', or 'general feeling' specifies itself to several functio
ns; one sees and hears with the fingers, and especially with the pit of the stom
ach, etc.
To comprehend a thing means in the language of practical intelligence to be able
to trace the series of means intervening between a phenomenon and some other ex
istence on which it depends -- to discover what is called the ordinary course of
 nature, in compliance with the laws and relations of the intellect, for example
, causality, reasons, etc. The purely sensitive life, on the contrary, even when
it retains that mere nominal consciousness, as in the morbid state alluded to,
is just this form of immediacy, without any distinctions between subjective and
objective, between intelligent personality and objective world, and without the
aforementioned finite ties between them. Hence to understand this intimate conju
nction, which, though all-embracing, is without any definite points of attachmen
t, is impossible, so long as we assume independent personalities, independent on
e of another and of the objective world which is their content -- so long as we
assume the absolute spatial and material externality of one part of being to ano
ther.
(b) Self-feeling (sense of self)
i. Particular Feeling § 407
The sensitive totality is, in its capacity as individual, essentially the tenden
cy to distinguish itself in itself, and to wake up to the judgement in itself, i
n virtue of which it has particular feelings and stands as a subject in respect
of these aspects of itself. The subject as such gives these feelings a place as
its own in itself. In these private and personal sensations it is immersed, and
at the same time, because of the 'ideality' of the particulars, it combines itse
lf in them with itself as a subjective unit. In this way it is self- feeling, an
d is so at the same time only in the particular feeling.
ii. Insanity § 408
In consequence of the immediacy, which still marks the self-feeling, i.e. in con
sequence of the element of corporeality which is still undetached from the menta
l life, and as the feeling too is itself particular and bound up with a special
corporeal form, it follows that although the subject has been brought to acquire
intelligent consciousness, it is still susceptible of disease, so far as to rem
ain fast in a special phase of its self-feeling, unable to refine it to 'idealit
y' and get the better of it. The fully furnished self of intelligent consciousne
ss is a conscious subject, which is consistent in itself according to an order a
nd behaviour which follows from its individual position and its connection with
the external world, which is no less a world of law. But when it is engrossed wi
th a single phase of feeling, it fails to assign that phase its proper place and
due subordination in the individual system of the world which a conscious subje
ct is. In this way the subject finds itself in contradiction between the totalit
y systematized in its consciousness, and the single phase or fixed idea which is
not reduced to its proper place and rank. This is Insanity or mental Derangemen
t.
In considering insanity we must, as in other cases, anticipate the full-grown an
d intelligent conscious subject, which is at the same time the natural self of s
elf-feeling. In such a phase the self can be liable to the contradiction between
its own free subjectivity and a particularity which, instead of being 'idealize
d' in the former, remains as a fixed element in self-feeling. Mind as such is fr
ee, and therefore not susceptible of this malady. But in older metaphysics mind
was treated as a soul, as a thing; and it is only as a thing, i.e. as something
natural and existent, that it is liable to insanity -- the settled fixture of so
me finite element in it. Insanity is therefore a psychical disease, i.e. a disea
se of body and mind alike: the commencement may appear to start from the one mor
e than the other, and so also may the cure.
The self-possessed and healthy subject has an active and present consciousness o
f the ordered whole of his individual world, into the system of which he subsume
s each special content of sensation, idea, desire, inclination, etc., as it aris
es, so as to insert them in their proper place, He is the dominant genius over t
hese particularities. Between this and insanity the difference is like that betw
een waking and dreaming: only that in insanity the dream falls within the waking
limits, and so makes part of the actual self- feeling. Error and that sort of t
hing is a proposition consistently admitted to a place in the objective intercon
nection of things. In the concrete, however, it is often difficult to say where
it begins to become derangement. A violent, but groundless and senseless outburs
t of hatred, etc., may, in contrast to a presupposed higher self-possession and
stability of character, make its victim seem to be beside himself with frenzy. B
ut the main point in derangement is the contradiction which a feeling with a fix
ed corporeal embodiment sets up against the whole mass of adjustments forming th
e concrete consciousness. The mind which is in a condition of mere being, and wh
ere such being is not rendered fluid in its consciousness, is diseased. The cont
ents which are set free in this reversion to mere nature are the self-seeking af
fections of the heart, such as vanity, pride, and the rest of the passions -- fa
ncies and hopes -- merely personal love and hatred. When the influence of self-p
ossession and of general principles, moral and theoretical, is relaxed, and ceas
es to keep the natural temper under lock and key, the, earthly elements are set
free -- that evil which is always latent in the heart, because the heart as imme
diate is natural and selfish. It is the evil genius of man which gains the upper
hand in insanity, but in distinction from and contrast to the better and more i
ntelligent part, which is there also. Hence this state is mental derangement and
distress. The right psychical treatment therefore keeps in view the truth that
insanity is not an abstract loss of reason (neither in the point of intelligence
nor of will and its responsibility), but only derangement, only a contradiction
in a still subsisting reason; -- just as physical disease is not an abstract, i
.e. mere and total, loss of health (if it were that, it would be death), but a c
ontradiction in it. This humane treatment, no less benevolent than reasonable (t
he services of Pinel towards which deserve the highest acknowledgement), presupp
oses the patient's rationality, and in that assumption has the sound basis for d
ealing with him on this side -- just as in the case of bodily disease the physic
ian bases his treatment on the vitality which as such still contains health.
(c) Habit § 409
Self-feeling, immersed in the detail of the feelings (in simple sensations, and
also desires, instincts, passions, and their gratification), is undistinguished
from them. But in the self there is latent a simple self-relation of ideality, a
nominal universality (which is the truth of these details): and as so universal
, the self is to be stamped upon, and made appear in, this life of feeling, yet
so as to distinguish itself from the particular details, and be a realized unive
rsality. But this universality is not the full and sterling truth of the specifi
c feelings and desires; what they specifically contain is as yet left out of acc
ount. And so too the particularity is, as now regarded, equally formal; it count
s only as the particular being or immediacy of the soul in opposition to its equ
ally formal and abstract realization. This particular being of the soul is the f
actor of its corporeity; here we have it breaking with this corporeity, distingu
ishing it from itself -- itself a simple being -- and becoming the 'ideal', subj
ective substantiality of it -- just as in its latent notion (§ 389) it was the sub
stance, and the mere substance, of it.
But this abstract realization of the soul in its corporeal vehicle is not yet th
e self -- not the existence of the universal which is for the universal. It is t
he corporeity reduced to its mere ideality; and so far only does corporeity belo
ng to the soul as such. That is to say, just as space and time as the abstract o
ne-outside-another, as, therefore, empty space and empty time, are only subjecti
ve forms, a pure act of intuition; so is that pure being (which, through the sup
ersession in it of the particularity of the corporeity, or of the immediate corp
oreity as such, has realized itself) mere intuition and no more, lacking conscio
usness, but the basis of consciousness. And consciousness it becomes, when the c
orporcity, of which it is the subjective substance, and which still continues to
 exist, and that as a barrier for it, has been absorbed by it, and it has been i
nvested with the character of self-centred subject.
§ 410.
The soul's making itself an abstract universal being, and reducing the particula
rs of feelings (and of consciousness) to a mere feature of its being is Habit. I
n this manner the soul has the contents in possession, and contains them in such
manner that in these features it is not as sentient, nor does it stand in relat
ionship with them as distinguishing itself from them, nor is absorbed in them, b
ut has them and moves in them, without feeling or consciousness of the fact. The
soul is freed from them, so far as it is not interested in or occupied with the
m: and whilst existing in these forms as its possession, it is at the same time
open to be otherwise occupied and engaged -- say with feeling and with mental co
nsciousness in general.
This process of building up the particular and corporeal expressions of feeling
into the being of the soul appears as a repetition of them, and the generation o
f habit as practice. For, this being of the soul, if in respect of the natural p
articular phase it be called an abstract universality to which the former is tra
nsmuted, is a reflexive universality (§ 175); i.e. the one and the same, that recu
rs in a series of units of sensation, is reduced to unity, and this abstract uni
ty expressly stated.
Habit like memory, is a difficult point in mental organization: habit is the mec
hanism of self-feeling, as memory is the mechanism of intelligence. The natural
qualities and alterations of age, sleep, and waking are 'immediately' natural: h
abit, on the contrary, is the mode of feeling (as well as intelligence, will, et
c., so far as they belong to self-feeling) made into a natural and mechanical ex
istence. Habit is rightly called a second nature; nature, because it is an immed
iate being of the soul; a second nature, because it is an immediacy created by t
he soul, impressing and moulding the corporeality which enters into the modes of
feeling as such and into the representations and volitions so far as they have
taken corporeal form (§ 401).
In habit the human being's mode of existence is 'natural', and for that reason n
ot free; but still free, so far as the merely natural phase of feeling is by hab
it reduced to a mere being of his, and he is no longer involuntarily attracted o
r repelled by it, and so no longer interested, occupied, or dependent in regard
to it. The want of freedom in habit is partly merely formal, as habit merely att
aches to the being of the soul; partly only relative, so far as it strictly spea
king arises only in the case of bad habits, or so far as a habit is opposed by a
nother purpose: whereas the habit of right and goodness is an embodiment of libe
rty. The main point about Habit is that by its means man gets emancipated from t
he feelings, even in being affected by them. The different forms of this may be
described as follows:
(a) The immediate feeling is negated and treated as indifferent. One who gets in
ured against external sensations (frost, heat, weariness of the limbs, etc., swe
et tastes, etc.), and who hardens the heart against misfortune, acquires a stren
gth which consists in this, that although the frost, etc. -- or the misfortune -
- is felt, the affection is deposed to a mere externality and immediacy; the uni
versal psychical life keeps its own abstract independence in it, and the self-fe
eling as such, consciousness, reflection, and any other purposes and activity, a
re no longer bothered with it.
(b)There is indifference towards the satisfaction: the desires and impulses are
by the habit of their satisfaction deadened. This is the rational liberation fro
m them; whereas monastic renunciation and forcible interference do not free from
them, nor are they in conception rational. Of course in all this it is assumed
that the impulses are kept as the finite modes they naturally are, and that they
, like their satisfaction, are subordinated as partial factors to the reasonable
will.
(c)In habit regarded as aptitude, or skill, not merely has the abstract psychica
l life to be kept intact per se, but it has to be imposed as a subjective aim, t
o be made a power in the bodily part, which is rendered subject and thoroughly p
ervious to it. Conceived as having the inward purpose of the subjective soul thu
s imposed upon it, the body is treated as an immediate externality and a barrier
. Thus comes out the more decided rupture between the soul as simple self- conce
ntration, and its earlier naturalness and immediacy; it has lost its original an
d immediate identity with the bodily nature, and as external has first to be red
uced to that position. Specific feelings can only get bodily shape in a perfectl
y specific way (§ 410); and the immediate portion of body is a particular possibil
ity for a specific aim (a particular aspect of its differentiated structure, a p
articular organ of its organic system). To mould such an aim in the organic body
is to bring out and express the 'ideality' which is implicit in matter always,
and especially so in the specific bodily part, and thus to enable the soul, unde
r its volitional and conceptual characters, to exist as substance in its corpore
ity. In this way an aptitude shows the corporeity rendered completely pervious,
made into an instrument, so that when the conception (e.g. a series of musical n
otes) is in me, then without resistance and with ease the body gives them correc
t utterance.
The form of habit applies to all kinds and grades of mental action. The most ext
ernal of them, i.e. the spatial direction of an individual, viz. his upright pos
ture, has been by will made a habit -- a position taken without adjustment and w
ithout consciousness -- which continues to be an affair of his persistent will;
for the man stands only because and in so far as he wills to stand, and only so
long as he wills it without consciousness. Similarly our eyesight is the concret
e habit which, without an express adjustment, combines in a single act the sever
al modifications of sensation, consciousness, intuition, intelligence, etc., whi
ch make it up. Thinking, too, however free and active in its own pure element it
becomes, no less requires habit and familiarity (this impromptuity or form of i
mmediacy), by which it is the property of my single self where I can freely and
in all directions range. It is through this habit that I come to realize my exis
tence as a thinking being. Even here, in this spontaneity of self-centred though
t, there is a partnership of soul and body (hence, want of habit and too-long-co
ntinued thinking cause headache); habit diminishes this feeling, by making the n
atural function an immediacy of the soul. Habit on an ampler scale, and carried
out in the strictly intellectual range, is recollection and memory, whereof we s
hall speak later.
Habit is often spoken of disparagingly and called lifeless, casual, and particul
ar. And it is true that the form of habit, like any other, is open to anything w
e chance to put into it; and it is habit of living which brings on death, or, if
quite abstract, is death itself: and yet habit is indispensable for the existen
ce of all intellectual life in the individual, enabling the subject to be a conc
rete immediacy, an 'ideality' of soul -- enabling the matter of consciousness, r
eligious, moral, etc., to be his as this self, this soul, and no other, and be n
either a mere latent possibility, nor a transient emotion or idea, nor an abstra
ct inwardness, cut off from action and reality, but part and parcel of his being
. In scientific studies of the soul and the mind, habit is usually passed over -
- either as something contemptible -- or rather for the further reason that it i
s one of the most difficult questions of psychology.
(c) THE ACTUAL SOUL § 411
The Soul, when its corporeity has been moulded and made thoroughly its own, find
s itself there a single subject; and the corporeity is an externality which stan
ds as a predicate, in being related to which, it is related to itself. This exte
rnality, in other words, represents not itself, but the soul, of which it is the
sign. In this identity of interior and exterior, the latter subject to the form
er, the soul is actual: in its corporeity it has its free shape, in which it fee
ls itself and makes itself felt, and which as the Soul's work of art has human p
athognomic and physiognomic expression.
Under the head of human expression are included, for example, the upright figure
in general, and the formation of the limbs, especially the hand, as the absolut
e instrument, of the mouth -- laughter, weeping, etc., and the note of mentality
diffused over the whole, which at once announces the body as the externality of
a higher nature. This note is so slight, indefinite, and inexpressible a modifi
cation, because the figure in its externality is something immediate and natural
, and can therefore only be an indefinite and quite imperfect sign for the mind,
unable to represent it in its actual universality. Seen from the animal world,
the human figure is the supreme phase in which mind makes an appearance. But for
the mind it is only its first appearance, while language is its perfect express
ion. And the human figure, though the proximate phase of mind's existence, is at
the same time in its physiognomic and pathognomic quality something contingent
to it. To try to raise physiognomy and above all cranioscopy (phrenology) to the
rank of sciences, was therefore one of the vainest fancies, still vainer than a
signatura rerum, which supposed the shape of a plant to afford indication of it
s medicinal virtue.
§ 412.
Implicitly the soul shows the untruth and unreality of matter; for the soul, in
its concentrated self, cuts itself off from its immediate being, placing the lat
ter over against it as a corporeity incapable of offering resistance to its moul
ding influence. The soul, thus setting in opposition its being to its (conscious
) self, absorbing it, and making it its own, has lost the meaning of mere soul,
or the 'immediacy' of mind. The actual soul with its sensation and its concrete
self-feeling turned into habit, has implicitly realised the 'ideality' of its qu
alities; in this externality it has recollected and inwardized itself, and is in
finite self-relation. This free universality thus made explicit shows the soul a
waking to the higher stage of the ego, or abstract universality, in so far as it
is for the abstract universality. In this way it gains the position of thinker
and subject -- specially a subject of the judgement in which the ego excludes fr
om itself the sum total of its merely natural features as an object, a world ext
ernal to it -- but with such respect to that object that in it it is immediately
reflected into itself. Thus soul rises to become Consciousness.
A. The Soul
(a) Natural Determinacy - (b) Antithesis to Substance - (c) Reality of Soul

§ 308.
Spirit came into being as the truth of nature which has translated and suspended
itself But spirit is, then, not merely true and primordial: its transition into
the realm of the concept is not only reflection into others and reflection into
itself but it is also free judgment. The becoming of spirit in this way indicat
es that nature suspends itself in itself as untruth, and that spirit no longer p
resupposes itself as immediacy self-externalised in physical individuality, but
as general and as that immediacy, simple in its concreteness, in which it is sou
l.
§ 309.
The soul is not only immaterial for itself but the general immateriality of natu
re and its simple, ideal life. The soul is also the absolute substance, as the i
mmediate identity of self-subsisting subjectivity and corporeality, whose identi
ty remains, as general essence, the absolute basis of its differentiation and in
dividuation. In this abstract determination, however, it is only the sleep of th
e spirit.
The question of the immateriality of the soul can only be of interest if matter
is represented as true, on the one hand, and on the other hand, if spirit is rep
resented as a thing. Even physicists, however, have in recent times dealt with i
mponderable substances, such as warmth, light, and so on, to which they could al
so add space and time. Otherwise these imponderables still have a sensory existe
nce, a self-externalised being. Yet living matter, which can be found included a
mong such substances, lacks not only gravity, but every other aspect of existenc
e which would allow us to treat it as material. The fact is that in the idea of
life the self-externality of nature is already in itself suspended, along with t
he concept and its substance. But in the spirit, the concept exists in freedom a
s absolute negativity and not as immediate individuality, so that the object of
the intelligible unity is the unity itself Thus self-externality, as the fundame
ntal characteristic of matter, is completely dissolved and transformed into gene
rality.
Another related question concerns the interdependence of the soul and the body.
It was assumed as a fact, and the only remaining problem was how to comprehend i
t. The usual answer was that it was an incomprehensible secret. And indeed, if w
e take them to be absolutely antithetical and absolutely independent, body and s
oul are just as impenetrable to each other as every part of matter is to another
. In this view they respond to each other only in the pores, their reciprocal be
ing where the other is not. But this answer is not the same as the one given by
all other philosophers since the relation was first questioned. Descartes, Maleb
ranche, Spinoza, and Leibniz have all seen God as this relation, especially in t
he sense that the finite soul and matter have no truth, so that God is not merel
y another word for that incomprehensibility, but rather its true identity. Eithe
r this identity, however, is not yet grasped immediately as God, for it does not
yet have this determination, or the soul itself is seen as a general soul, in w
hich matter exists in its truth, as a simple thought or a generality.-- This sou
l must not, however, become fixed again, for example as the world soul, for then
it is only the general substance which merely has actual truth as individuality
.
§ 310
Spirit is at first this immediate submergence in nature: (a) the soul in its det
ermination as nature; (b) as the soul is particularised, it emerges in antithesi
s to its lack of consciousness; (c) in the process it acquires corporeality, and
thus becomes real.
(a) The Natural Determinacy of the Soul § 311
Spirit as the abstract soul of nature is simple, sidereal, and terrestrial life.
It is the nous of the ancients, the simple, unconscious thought, which (a) as t
his general essence is the inner idea and would have its reality in the underlyi
ng externality of nature. But since it, as soul, is immediate substance, its exi
stence is the particularisation of its natural being, an immediate and natural d
eterminacy, which has its presupposed reality in the individual earth.
§ 312
The general planetary life of the nature spirit has the diversity of the earth a
s immediate differentiation within it; it then dissolves into particular spirits
 of nature, which wholly express the nature of the geographic parts of the world
and constitute racial diversity.
The contrast between the earth's poles, by which the northern land is more compr
essed and more heavily weighted than the sea, whereas the southern hemisphere se
parates and disperses into widely distant peaks, introduces into the differences
between continents a further modification which Treviranus (Biology, part 2) ha
s exhibited in the case of the plants and animals.
§ 313
This diversity is transformed by the contingency of nature into particularities,
which may be called local spirits, and manifests itself in outward forms of lif
e and occupation, physical development and disposition, but even more in the inn
er tendency and capacity of intellectual and moral character.
§ 314
The soul, as the concept in itself in general, isolates itself as the individual
subject. But this subjectivity is here considered only as the individuation of
natural characteristics; it is the mode of the different temperaments, character
s, physiognomies, and other dispositions of families or single individuals.
§ 315.
(b) Immediate judgment is the awakening of the individual soul, which confronts
its unconscious natural life, in the first instance as one natural characteristi
c and condition confronts another, namely, sleep. This transitional phase of ind
ividuality connects with the earth as the general body of individuality.
§ 316
Waking is neither externally nor for us intrinsically different from sleep; rath
er, waking is itself the judgment of the individual soul, and thus the different
iation of itself from its undifferentiated generality. All self-conscious and ra
tional activity of the spirit occurs in the waking state.-- Sleep is an invigora
tion of this activity, though not in the sense of rest (the power of living acti
on actually becomes sluggish due to the lack of its expression), but as a return
from the world of specialisation, from dispersion into details where it has bec
ome rigidified, into the general essence of subjectivity, which is the substance
of those specialised energies and their absolute master.
§ 317
Insofar, however, as the entire being of the individual is an awakened being, it
s particularisation is the natural development of an age.
§ 318
(c) Real individuality as the reflection of the soul in itself is its waking bei
ng for itself in self-contained, organic physicality. It also involves a self-fe
eling determined in and for itself and still identical with its corporeality, ex
ternal and internal sensation.
The progress of the general soul to an individuality which is still immediate is
above all the progress of the natural idea, from ideal generality to -vitality,
that is, organic individualism In any case this has no further meaning than tha
t it contains the spirit in itself and this is its individual and natural existe
nce, which, however, exists here only in external representation. As in the prev
ious case, therefore, what can be said more precisely about wakefulness as a spe
cific waking of the spirit, and about the course of an age in the unique meaning
of its intellectual development, must be seen as anticipated or as taken from r
epresentation.-- On the natural side of this immanence of the individual spirit
in its physicality falls in general the healthy and sympathetic sense of communi
ty. Belonging here, then, are not only the external feelings of the senses consi
dered above (§ 279), but also the sensations, determined more precisely as immedia
tely symbolic, including colours, smells, sounds, either immediately attractive
or repulsive, either in a more general or in a more idiosyncratic manner. Under
this rubric would also be found not only the inner sympathy of the parts of the
body, but also certain mental qualities, such as the passions or the emotions. I
t is important to include here the line of connection by which anger and courage
are felt in the breast, the blood, desire in the reproductive system, irritatio
n, and contemplation, intellectual activity in the head, which is also considere
d the centre of the sensible system.
(b) The Antithesis of the Subjective Soul to Its Substance § 319.
The soul, which lives at first immediately in its substantial identity, is in it
s individuality as a negative self-relation, and the division of its subjectivit
y is set against its substantial life, which is incompatible with its concept. T
his first reflection into itself is at the same time a reflection into another;
it stands at first, therefore, only in relation to its natural determination.
§ 320
The subject is (a) in an abstract and general relation to its natural life; the
soul is, to be sure, the subject from this perspective, but its predicate in thi
s general relation is still its substance, an impotent, merely formal being for
itself a sense of foreboding and dreaming of its more general natural life, the
feeling of the nature spirit.
This relation rests on the dividing line of the spirit from itself as soul. Spir
it as such has generality for its object as a thought entity, pure, that is, wit
h its abstract subjectivity, identical with its selfhood, and its relationship t
o it is itself this thought. This certain substantiality is freedom, the pure ne
gativity of all immediacy. Such free substantiality is already a part of pure se
lf-consciousness and the actual spirit.
Thus the present, unfree matter is a reduction of free self-consciousness, -- a
disease in which the soul, which according to Plato delivers prophecies in the l
iver, or more definitely in the ganglia than in the brain or the belly. Spirit i
n this instance has sunken back into the spirit of nature.-- In history this mag
ical relation, which can occur in isolated individuals as a diseased condition,
constitutes a phase of transition from substantial spirituality to self-consciou
sness and understanding.-- Forebodings, prophecies, the many miraculous aspects
of dreams, and other tendencies, somnambulism and animal magnetism: all these be
long more or less to the realm of dream in general, where the spirit hovers betw
een natural spirits and its rational reality, and produces thereby a representat
ion of its more general connection in a larger natural sphere than the sort of c
onsciousness which has understood and reasoned about itself But since real gener
ality, namely that of thought, only adheres to this consciousness, then that exp
ansion of sympathetic life which emerges as representation is limited absolutely
to a particular circle, and what this soul sees and predicts is only its partic
ular inferiority, not that of a general essence. But this magical circle is ulti
mately an incantation, a form of subjugation, a dependency, because the soul is
reduced from its free generality to particularity. Thus the image of humanity's
primitive condition, in which nature and the spirit do not appear externally to
inner intuition but with pure immediacy, becomes diminished daily, as with few a
spects of the tradition, and dwindles into an ever-weaker position. It becomes a
n empty assumption, by which the general nature of the idea as a reasonable thou
ght, which belongs only to the spirit in its free subjectivity, remains unobserv
ed.
§ 321
(b) The subjective soul itself however, breaks the immediate, substantial identi
ty of its relation with particular, natural being. Its antithesis, which is at t
he same time an identity, is a relation of contradiction: a condition of disrupt
ion, in which both aspects of the relation emerge in reality against each other
and corporeal reality becomes the reality of the soul, or conversely, the soul c
onstructs its own reality as corporeal.
This relation is the condition of madness in general. It should at the same time
be remarked that: (1) this relation, like the magical relation, exists merely a
s ideal moments, as untrue relations, and thus persists only as conditions or di
seases of the spirit. Precisely as everything finite persists, and, more specifi
cally, just as the formal judgment and the formal syllogism exist without truth
and apply only to the abstract moments of the objective concept, thus it has onl
y a violent existence and is grounded in destruction, -- a destruction which the
understanding causes as it transforms the concrete into abstractions solely thr
ough its reality. Thus the relations which have now emerged are only the ideal m
oments of the spirit free in being, and still dominated by the hypothetic judgme
nt. They are still substantially related to their substance in their self-differ
entiating subjectivity, and just as essentially the contradiction in this relati
on, their being is above all not their being, but exists rather as the being of
their other.
(2) On this level of the relation the spirit is determined as a thing, and more
precisely, as that which is understood as soul. To the ancients, for whom the an
tithesis of thought and being had not yet been as fully actualised, the soul had
the more indeterminate meaning of spirituality. By contrast, in more recent met
aphysics and other representations the spirit as soul has become a thing of many
characteristics and powers, fixed as a spectre, or more precisely as an angel,
and even decorated with a colour as a sensory entity. Metaphysics has generally
held to the abstract determination of a thing, and the soul therefore has in and
for itself the determinations of being, of quality and quantity, and is subordi
nated to the reflective categories of individual substances, causes, and so on.
Here the question of the location of the soul, of the connection between this th
ing and the other thing, the body, has been of interest.
It is a contribution of Kant's to have weighed the metaphysics of spirit and sou
l as things and, what is the same, to have freed the spirit from this metaphysic
s and representation and to have posited the self in its place. For the spirit a
s thing can only be spoken of in a relation, that is, on the level of reflection
, where the spirit of course loses its immediate substantiality or its subsistin
g universality, and determines itself as difference and as subject, although it
has not yet achieved true reality.
(3) The different forms of madness, -- insanity, wildness, raving, nonsense, are
shadings which contain many indeterminate qualities, concerning the determinati
ons which they have in contrast to each other, just as they themselves confront
conditions which common sense accepts. As important as this differentiation is f
or the treatment of these diseases, it is at the same time a perversion to want
to create an awareness of human beings on that basis, as well as on the basis of
crimes and other depravities and disturbances of humanity. To recognise these d
isorders presupposes in fact a concept of what the human being should be.
Moreover, in all forms of disease it is not only possible to observe a lack of u
nderstanding, but also to see what is actually called madness. For it is the abs
olute unhappiness of contradiction that the spirit, which is the free identity o
f subjective and objective, exists in its serfhood not as absolute ideality, but
as an actual thing, and exists just as much as an objective entity in contrast
to the thing as its pure identity. As such it is the relation of necessity or of
finite reciprocal effect, of immediate transformation and reversal. This madnes
s, in other words, grasps fate purely as blind fate, that is as absolute alienat
ion from the concept, and as such it is after all identical with itself knowing
itself at once to be and not to be itself-Distraction can be seen as the beginni
ng of madness; in it is the spirit in itself and it has no present in its corpor
eality, though it does exist in it, and mistakenly reverses the situation. The h
ighest level is anger, whereby the singularity of serfhood fixes arbitrariness i
n its pure abstraction against the objective idea into a static reality, and exc
hanges itself with pure will.
Psychic treatment rests on the insight that madness is not the loss of reason, f
rom the side of both the intellect and the will, but is only madness, and presup
poses therefore the treatment of the sick as reasonable beings, thereby providin
g a fixed basic assumption on which the rest can build.
§ 322
(c) The soul is substantial, however, as the general concept for itself the over
arching power and fate of the other reality which is essentially its own immedia
cy. The soul's relation to judgment is, therefore, a suspension of its form and
the positing of the form as its own.
§ 323
Because it is originally identical to this corporeality, and has its reality in
it, the soul's activity is not directed against the body as against an external
and antagonistic object. To injure organic life and to foster an antagonistic, d
estructive treatment of corporeality would instead make this into a negative obj
ectivity aimed against the subject, producing thereby a power and a fate, and wo
uld derange the standpoint of the spirit.
§ 324
The activity of the soul against the body is, rather, to establish its self-subs
isting identity with its corporeality, only to suspend the form of the immediacy
of this unity, and to posit as general the pervasive soul in its body for itsel
f.
§ 325
The soul forms itself then, in the body which it has from nature (§ 318). It build
s up, in this immediate being, its generality through the repetition of actions
purposively determined, through induction. Thus it remembers itself in the body
in such a way, on the one hand, that its identity with the body is determined by
the soul and forms its subjective unity with itself On the other hand, it achie
ves being in the body, a being as a general habit, a determinate habit, and as h
istorical authenticity. In this way, as a thoroughly formed instrument, it domin
ates the body.
(c) The Reality of the Soul § 326
The soul, in its thoroughly formed corporeality, exists as an individual subject
, and the corporeality is an externality which stands as a predicate of the subj
ect, which in this way only relates to itself in itself This externality thus do
es not represent itself but the soul, of which it is the sign. In this identity
of interior and exterior the soul is actual, and has only in its corporeality it
s free shape, its human, pathognomonic and physiognomic expression.
Under the heading of human expression are included, for example, the upright fig
ure in general, the formation of limbs, especially the hand, as the absolute ins
trument, of the mouth, of laughter, weeping, and so on, and the intellectual ton
e diffused over the whole, which immediately announces the body as the exteriori
ty of a higher nature. This tone is a slight, indefinite, an inexpressible modif
ication. For the spirit is identical with its general exteriority and thus free,
whereas the shape is immediate and natural, and can therefore only be an indefi
nite sign for the spirit, for it represents the spirit as an other, and not for
itself in its generality. For the animal, then, the human figure is the highest
form in which the spirit appears. But for the spirit it is only its first appear
ance, because it is reality still sunken in the sphere of immediacy.-- Spirit is
, therefore, absolutely finite and isolated in the human figure as sign. It is,
to be sure, its existent form, but at the same time the human figure is somethin
g entirely contingent in its physiognomic and pathognomonic determinacy for the
spirit. Thus to want to raise physiognomy and, above all, cranioscopy (phrenolog
y) to the level of sciences is one of the emptiest ideas there could be, emptier
than a signature rerum, which supposed that the shape of a plant would reveal i
ts true medicinal uses.
§ 327
In and for itself spirit as the general soul shows the untruth of matter. Corpor
eality, which is at first nothing but a form of immediacy, can therefore achieve
its formation in general and without any resistance. Through this first formati
on of being in itself the spirit, which will be against it, is suspended, has lo
st its own determinate meaning of the soul, and becomes an "I".
§ 328
This infinity of the spirit as the relationship of itself to itself in its immed
iacy is its own suspension, which has been produced first and is therefore still
a moment, though against and in this infinity. What is included here with itsel
f in otherness is also determinate individuality, which is the subject for itsel
f and contains itself as this negativity. The judgment, in which the subject bec
omes "I" in contrast to an object, as if in contrast to a foreign world, is thus
reflected immediately into itself Thus the soul becomes consciousness.

B. Consciousness
(a) Consciousness as Such - (b) Self-Consciousness - (c) Reason

§ 329
Consciousness constitutes the reflected or relational level of the spirit, the l
evel of its appearance. The self is the infinite relation of the spirit to itsel
f but a subjective relation, as self-certainty. As this absolute negativity it i
s identity in its otherness; the self is itself and extends over the object, it
is one side of the relation and the whole relation; -- the light, which manifest
s both itself and the other.
§ 330
But the identity is only formal. The spirit as soul is in the form of substantia
l generality; as self-subsisting gravity, it is related as subjective reflection
in itself to darkness. And consciousness is, like relationship in general, the
contradiction between the independence of the two sides and their identity in wh
ich they are suspended.
§ 331
The object, as it is released by the infinite reflection of the spirit in its ju
dgment, has this finite relation to itself as its essence, and is a subsisting a
nd a given entity in contrast to the being for itself of the self.
§ 332
Since the self does not exist as the concept, but only as a formal identity, the
dialectical movement of consciousness does not seem to it to be its own activit
y, but seems to occur in itself that is, as a change in the object. Consciousnes
s appears differently, therefore, according to the differences in the given obje
ct, and the ongoing development of consciousness appears as a development of the
object. The observation of its necessary changes, however, the concept, falls,
because it is still as such interior, within us.
Kantian philosophy may be most accurately described as having conceived of the s
pirit as consciousness, and as containing only determinations of the phenomenolo
gy, not the philosophy, of spirit. Kant views the self as the relation to a "thi
ng in itself" lying somewhere beyond, and it is only from this perspective that
he treats the intellect and the will. Though with the concept of reflecting judg
ment he does speak of the idea of the spirit, subject-objectivity, an intuitive
understanding, and so on, and even the idea of nature, this idea is itself demot
ed to an appearance again, namely, to a subjective principle. Reinhold, it may t
herefore be said, correctly understood Kantianism, when he treated it as a theor
y of consciousness, under the name of the faculty of imagination. Fichtean philo
sophy adheres to the same point of view, for his "not-I" is only an object of th
e "I," only determined as in consciousness; it remains an infinite impulse, that
is, a thing in itself Both philosophies show, therefore, that they have not cle
arly reached the concept or the spirit as it is in and for itself but only as it
is in relation to something else.
§ 333
The aim of the spirit as consciousness is to make its appearance identical with
its essence, to raise the certainty of itself to truth. The existence of the spi
rit in consciousness is formal or general as such; because that is determined on
ly abstractly, or it is only self-reflected as an abstract self its existence re
tains a content which is not yet its own.
§ 334
The levels of this elevation of certainty to truth are: (a) consciousness in gen
eral, which has an object as such; (b) self-consciousness, for which the self is
the object; (c) the unity of consciousness and self-consciousness, where the sp
irit sees itself as the content of the object and as in and for itself determina
te; -- as reason, the concept of the spirit.
(a) Consciousness as Such § 335
Consciousness is: (1) immediate consciousness, and its relation to the object is
accordingly the simple, unmediated certainty of it. The object itself is subsis
ting, but as it is reflected in itself it is determined further as immediately i
ndividual. This is sensory consciousness.
To sensory consciousness belongs the categories of feeling as content, external
or internal, and spatial and temporal experience as form. But these both belong
to the spirit in its concrete form, both as feelings and as intuitions. Consciou
sness as a case of relation comprises only the categories belonging to the abstr
act self and these it treats as features of the object. Sensory consciousness th
erefore apprehends the object immediately as subsisting, a something, an existin
g thing, an individual entity, and its immediacy as determined in and for itself
What the object is otherwise in its concrete form concerns the spirit; the self
as a concrete entity is the spirit. Even the categories of feeling are only sen
sory in the form of immediacy; their contents can be of a quite other nature. In
consciousness, the self is still abstract thought and has initially as object,
therefore, the abstract categories of thought. Spatial and temporal singularity
is the here and the now, and the object of sensory consciousness, as I determine
d in my Phenomenology of Spirit (Werke 2 p. 73). More essentially, the object is
to be taken only according to the identity of the relation by which it has its
determination. In this way it exists for consciousness only as an external entit
y, neither externally for itself nor a being external to itself The other can ac
hieve this freedom only through the freedom of the spirit.
§ 336
The sensory as something becomes an other; the reflection of something in itself
the thing, has many qualities, and as a single individual it exists in its imme
diacy as manifold predicates. The many individual moments of sensory consciousne
ss become therefore a broad field, a multiplicity of relations, categories of re
flection, and generalities. As the object is so changed, sensory consciousness b
ecomes sense perception.
§ 337
(2) Consciousness, having passed beyond the sensory level, wants to grasp the ob
ject in its truth, not as merely immediate, but as mediated, reflected in itself
and general. Such an object is a combination of sensory qualities and categorie
s of thought; consciousness here combines concrete relations and reflection into
itself In this way its identity with the object is no longer the abstract one o
f certainty, but now the determinate identity of knowledge.
The particular level of consciousness at which Kantian philosophy conceives the
spirit is perception, which is in general the standpoint of our ordinary conscio
usness, and more or less of the sciences. The sensory certainties of individual
apperceptions or observation form the starting point. These are in turn supposed
to be elevated to truth by being observed in their relations, reflected upon, a
nd according to categories of the understanding turned at the same time into som
ething necessary and general, into experiences.
§ 338
This linkage of the individual and the general is a mixture, because the individ
ual remains basically hardened being, whereas the general by contrast is reflect
ed in itself It is, therefore, a many sided contradiction -- between the individ
ual things of sense apperception, which supposedly constitute the ground of gene
ral experience, and the general, which supposedly has a higher claim to be the e
ssence and the ground -- between the individuality of things themselves, which c
onstitutes their independence, and their manifold qualities, which are free from
this negative bind and from one another, and are independent, general materials
.
§ 339
The truth of perception is the contradiction, instead of the identity of the ind
ividual object and the generality of consciousness, or the individuality of the
object itself and its generality. The truth is thus that the object is appearanc
e, and that its reflection into itself is an interior subsisting for itself The
consciousness which receives this object, into which the object of perception ha
s been transferred, is the understanding.
§ 340
(3) For the understanding the things of perception count as appearances; their i
nterior, which the understanding has as an object, is, on the one hand, their su
spended multiplicity, and in this way it is the abstract identity, but, on the o
ther hand, it also contains the multiplicity, but as internal, simple difference
, which remains self-identical in the changes of appearance. This simple differe
nce is, in the first place, the realm of the laws of phenomena, a copy, but brou
ght to rest and general.
§ 341
The law, at first as the relation of general, lasting determinations, has, insof
ar as its difference is the inward one, its necessity in itself; the one of the
determinations, as not externally different from the other, lies immediately in
the other. But in this way the interior difference is what it is in truth, namel
y, the difference in itself or the difference which is none.
§ 342
Consciousness, which as understanding has at first only an abstract interior, th
en takes the law as its object, and has now found the concept. But insofar as co
nsciousness and the object are still a given, it observes the object as a living
entity, -- an inferiority, which is in and for itself determinate generality, o
r truth.
§ 343
Self-consciousness is sparked, however, by the consciousness of life; for as con
sciousness has an object, as an entity different from itself it is also true in
life that the difference is no difference. For the immediacy in which the living
entity is the object of consciousness is precisely the appearance, or the mode
reduced to negation which now, as inner difference, or concept, is the negation
of itself against consciousness.
(b) Self-consciousness § 344
The truth of consciousness is self-consciousness, and the latter is the ground o
f the former, all consciousness of another object being as a matter of fact also
self-consciousness. The expression of this is I=I.
§ 345
In this form, however, it is still without reality: as it is its own object, the
re is strictly speaking no object as such, for it contains no distinction betwee
n it and the object. The self however, the concept for itself is the absolute di
remption of judgment. In this way self-consciousness is for itself the drive to
suspend and to realise itself.
§ 346
Since abstract self-consciousness is itself immediate, and the first negation of
self-consciousness, it is subsisting and sensually concrete in itself Self-dete
rmination is, therefore, on the one hand negation as a moment posited by itself
in itself whereas on the other hand it is an external object. Or the whole, whic
h is its object, is the preceding level, consciousness, and it remains this itse
lf.
§ 347
The drive of self-consciousness is thus to suspend its subjectivity in general;
more precisely, to give to abstract knowledge content and objectivity from itsel
f and conversely, to free itself from its sensuality, to suspend objectivity as
a given, and to posit itself as identical with itself or to equate its conscious
ness with its self-consciousness. -- Both are one and the same.
§ 348
(1) Self-consciousness in its immediacy is a singularity and a desire: the contr
adiction, implied in its abstraction, which should be objective, or in its immed
iacy, which should be subjective. As against I = I, the concept is in itself the
idea, the unity of itself and its reality.-- Its immediacy, which is determined
to be suspended, has at the same time the shape of an external object, which de
termines that self-consciousness is consciousness. But, for the self-certainty a
rising from the suspension of consciousness, the object is determined as null in
itself Self-consciousness, therefore, is in itself in the object, and in this w
ay conforms with the drive. In the negation, as the proper activity of the self
it becomes this identity for the self.
§ 349
To this activity the object, which implicitly and for self-consciousness is self
less, can offer no resistance: the dialectic, which is, its nature, is to be sus
pended, and is here an activity which the self perceives at the same time as ext
ernal. The given object thereby becomes just as subjective as the subjectivity w
hich externalises itself and becomes objective to itself.
§ 350
The product of the process is that the self in this reality joins itself with it
self; but this return yields at first only existence as an individual, because i
t relates itself only negatively to the selfless object and the object is thereb
y merely consumed. Thus desire is in its satisfaction always destructive and sel
fish.
§ 351
But self-consciousness has in itself already the certainty of itself in the imme
diate object, the feeling of self which it acquires in the satisfaction and whic
h thus is not abstract being for itself or merely its individuality, but is an o
bjective entity. For the satisfaction is the negation of its own immediacy, and
the diremption of this immediacy thus occurs in the consciousness of a free obje
ct, in which the self knows of itself as a self.
§ 352
(2) It is a self-consciousness for a self-consciousness, at first immediately, a
s an other for an other. I immediately perceive myself in the other as "I," and
yet also an immediately existing object, another "I" absolutely independent of m
e. This contradiction, that I am only I as the negativity of immediate existence
, yields the process of recognition.
§ 353
The process is a struggle. For I can not know of myself in the other as myself i
nsofar as the other is an immediate other existence for me. I consequently conce
ntrate on the suspension of this immediacy. But this immediacy is at the same ti
me the existence of self-consciousness, in which as in its sign and instrument s
elf-consciousness has its own feeling of self and its being for others, and has
the general means of entering into relation with them. In the same way I can not
be recognised as immediate, except insofar as the "I" suspends the immediacy in
myself and thereby brings my freedom into existence.
§ 354
The struggle for recognition is thus a matter of life and death: either self-con
sciousness imperils the life of the other and brings itself into danger -- but o
nly into danger, for each is no less determined to preserve its life as the esse
ntial moment. Thus the death of one, which from one perspective solves the contr
adiction -- though by the abstract, therefore crude negation of immediacy -- is
yet, from the essential perspective or the existence of recognition, the greater
contradiction.
§ 355
Since life is as essential as freedom is, the struggle ends in the first place -
- for in this sphere the immediate individuality of the two self-consciousnesses
is presupposed -- as in inequality: whereas one of the fighters prefers life an
d retains its abstract or individual self-consciousness, but surrenders its clai
m for recognition, the other holds fast to this universality, and is recognised
by the former as inferior. Thus arises the relation of master and servant.
The struggle for recognition and the subjugation under a master are the phenomen
a in which the social life of people emerges. Force, which is the basis of this
phenomenon, is thus not a basis of law, but only the necessary and legitimate mo
ment in the transition from the state of self-consciousness mired in appetite an
d selfish isolation into the suspension of immediate self-hood. This other, howe
ver, overcomes the desire and individuality of sunken self-consciousness and tra
nsforms it into the condition of general self-consciousness.
§ 356
This relation is in the first place and according to its identity a shared featu
re of the need, the desire, and the concern for satisfaction. In place of the cr
ude destruction of the immediate object there follows the acquisition, preservat
ion, and formation of it, as of the intermediary by which the two extremes of de
pendence and independence are welded together.
§ 357
According to the distinction between the two, the master has in the servant and
its servitude the intuition of the objectivity of his individual being for itsel
f in its suspension, but only insofar as it belongs to an other. -- The servant,
however, in the service of the master, works off his individual or self-will, s
uspends his inner immediacy, and through this externalisation learns fear of the
master and beginning of wisdom, -- the transition to general self-consciousness
.
§ 358
(3) General self-consciousness is the positive knowledge of self in another self
: each self as a free individuality has absolute independence, though in virtue
of the negation of its immediacy without distinguishing itself from that other.
Each is thus general self-consciousness and objective; each has real generality
in such a way as it recognises itself in the free other, and knows this insofar
as it recognises the other and knows it to be free.
This general reappearance of self-consciousness, the concept, which knows itself
in its objectivity as a subjectivity identical with itself and therefore genera
l, is the substance of all true spiritual life, of the family, the fatherland, t
he state, and of all virtues, -- love, friendship, bravery, honour, fame.
§ 359
This unity of consciousness and self-consciousness has in the first place indivi
duals existing in contrast to each other as beings for themselves. But their dif
ference in this identity is entirely indeterminate diversity, or rather it is a
difference which is none. Hence its truth is the unmediated generality subsistin
g in and for itself and the objectivity of self-consciousness, -- reason.
(c) Reason § 360
The essential and real truth which reason is, exists in the simple identity of t
he subjectivity of the concept with its objectivity and generality. The generali
ty of reason has, therefore, the meaning of the object given in consciousness as
well as the self in consciousness.
§ 361
Reason has, therefore, as the pure individuality of the certainty that the categ
ories of self-consciousness are just as objective, categories of the essence of
things as its own thoughts.
§ 362
As this identity reason is the absolute substance, which is truth. The unique de
terminacy which it has here, after the object presupposed against the self has s
uspended its one-sidedness as much as the self set against the object, -- is the
substantial truth, whose determinacy is the concept itself subsisting purely fo
r itself, I, -- the certainty of itself as an infinite generality. This knowing
truth is the spirit.Encyclopaedia of the Philosophical Sciences
C. Spirit
(a) Theoretical Spirit - (b) Practical Spirit

§ 363
Spirit has shown itself as the unity of the soul and consciousness, -- the forme
r a simple immediate totality, and the latter is knowledge which is not limited
by any object, and no longer stands in relation to it, but is knowledge of the s
imple, neither subjective nor objective totality. Spirit originates, therefore,
only from its own being, and only relates itself to its own determinations.
§ 364
The soul is finite, insofar as it is immediate or determined by nature; consciou
sness is finite, insofar as it has an object; and spirit is finite, insofar as i
t immediately has determinacy in itself or insofar as the determinacy is posited
by spirit. In and for itself it is absolutely infinite objective reason, which
is defined as its concept and its reality, knowledge, or intelligence. Hence the
finitude of spirit consists more precisely in the fact that knowledge has not g
rasped the being of reason in and for itself. This is infinite, however, only in
sofar as it is absolute freedom, and thus presupposes itself as the immediate de
terminacy of its knowledge. It thereby reduces itself to finitude, and appears a
s the eternal movement of suspending this immediacy and comprehending itself
§ 365
The progress of the spirit is development, because its existing phase, knowledge
, involves consciousness in and for itself as the purpose or rationale. Thus the
action of translating this purpose into reality is strictly only this formal tr
ansition into manifestation. Insofar as knowledge is infinite negativity, this t
ranslation in the concept is creativity in general. Insofar as knowledge is only
abstract or formal, the spirit in it does not conform to its concept, and its p
urpose is to bring forth the absolute fulfilment and the absolute freedom of its
knowledge.
§ 366
The way of the spirit is: (a) to be theoretical: it has to do with its immediate
determinacy and the positing of this determinacy as its own; -- or, it has to f
ree knowledge from its presuppositions and therefore from its abstractions, and
make the determinacy subjective. Since the knowledge in itself is determined in
and for itself or exists as free intelligence, it is immediately: (b) will, prac
tical spirit, which in the first place is immediately willed, and its determinat
ion of will is to be freed from its subjectivity, so that it exists as free will
and objective spirit.
§ 367
The theoretical and the practical spirit still fall in the sphere of the subject
ive spirit in general; this knowledge and will are still formal. But as spirit i
t is above all the unity of subjectivity and objectivity. As subjective spirit i
t is thus just as productive, though its productions are primarily formal. The p
roduction of the theoretical spirit is only of its ideal world, whereas the prod
uction of the practical spirit is of formal material and the content of its own
world.
The doctrine of the spirit is usually treated as empirical psychology, with the
spirit considered as a collection of powers and faculties which find themselves
thrown together in a coincidental fashion. Thus it seems that one or the other f
aculty could just as well exist or not, a view which does not occur in physics,
for example, where it is clear that nature would lose quite a bit if such a feat
ure as magnetism did not exist. -- The relation of the faculties to each other i
s of course seen as extremely necessary or purposeful, but this utility of the f
aculties appears often to be very remote, or even at times in bad taste.
Psychology belongs, like logic, among those sciences which in modem times have d
erived the least use from the more general intellectual culture and the deeper c
oncepts of reason. It thus finds itself in a dreadful condition. To be sure, the
turn taken by Kantian philosophy has given it greater importance: it has even b
een claimed that in its empirical condition it constitutes the foundation of met
aphysics, for metaphysics is to consist of nothing but the empirical apprehensio
n and the analysis of the facts of human consciousness, above all as facts, just
as they are given. But this view of psychology, which mixes the standpoint of c
onsciousness with anthropology, has actually changed nothing of its condition. I
t has only meant that, both for the spirit as such and for metaphysics and philo
sophy generally, all attempts to recognise the necessity of what is in and for i
tself have been abandoned, along with the effort to realise the concept and the
truth.
(a.) Theoretical Spirit § 368
Intelligence finds itself determined; as knowledge, however, intelligence consis
ts in treating what is found as its own. Its activity is to be reason for itself
because it is reason in itself and to make subjective its objectivity subsistin
g in and for itself Intelligence is therefore not receptive, but rather essentia
lly active, suspending the pretence of finding reason, or raising the purely for
mal knowledge, which it is as the self-discovery of reason, to a determinate kno
wledge of itself The manner of this elevation is itself rational, because it is
reason, and a necessary, conceptually determined transition of one determination
of its activity into the other.
(1) The distinction of intelligence from will is often incorrectly taken to mean
that each has a fixed and separate existence, as if will could exist without in
telligence, or the activity of intelligence could be without will. But this woul
d miss the truth of the will, for only free self-determination is will, as the w
ill is intelligence, and freedom itself exists only as self-certainty in the imm
ediate determination subsisting in itself Thus the truth of intelligence manifes
ts itself as will, or rather, intelligence shows itself in the will as truth. Th
e will of the spirit to be intelligence is its self-determination, by which the
purposes and interests posited by the spirit are abstracted so that it does not
relate to itself as will.
The most trivial form of that false distinction is the imagined possibility that
the understanding could exist without the heart, and the heart without the unde
rstanding. Such a view is the abstraction of the observant understanding, which
holds fast to such distinctions. just as it is the actual understanding in the i
ndividual which makes this kind of separation, ushers in the untruth of intellec
tual thought and remains fixed there, thus it is an understanding which is just
as much will. But it is not philosophy which should take such untruths of though
t and the imagination for truth.-A number of other phrases used for intelligence
, namely, that it receives and accepts impressions from outside, that ideas aris
e through the causal operations of external things upon it, and so on, belong to
a point of view which mixes sensory and rational determinations (§ 336), a standp
oint that is alien to the spirit and earn less appropriate for philosophy.-That
the intelligence appears determined in infinitely multiple, contingent ways is e
qually the standpoint of entirely finite individuality, and the extreme untruth
of empirical observation.
(2) A favourite form of reflection deals with forces and faculties of the soul,
the intelligence, or the spirit. In regards to a faculty-the dynamics of Aristot
le have an entirely different meaning-it characterises being for itself and is d
ifferent from the entelechy, from the activity of being for itself and from real
ity. Faculty, like force, is the fixed determinacy of any thought content, conce
ived as reflection into self Force (§ 85) is, to be sure, the infinity of form, of
inside and outside; but its essential finitude constitutes the indifference of
the content in contrast to the form (ibid. note). In this lies the irrational el
ement which by this form of reflection and observation of the spirit, treating t
he spirit as a number of forces, is brought into the spirit as it is also brough
t into nature. What can be distinguished in this activity is stereotyped as an i
ndependent determinacy, and the spirit is made in this way into a skeleton-like,
mechanical collection. If a force of the spirit, that is, its contents, the par
ticular determinacy which it contains, is considered, it proves again to be dete
rminate, that is, dialectic and transitory, not independent. Thus it is precisel
y the used form of a force that suspends itself which should be the reflection i
nto self or determinacy, and is affixed to independence. In this way the concept
emerges, in which the forces disappear.
This concept and the dialectic are intelligence itself pure subjectivity of the
self in which the determinations as fluid moments are suspended, and for which t
he absolute concrete is the night of the self where there is intelligence as wel
l as the determinations of their activity which are taken as forces. As the simp
le identity of this multiplicity it determines itself as the simplicity of a det
erminacy, understanding, the form of a force, of an isolated activity, and grasp
s itself as intuition, the power of imagination, the faculty of understanding, a
nd so on. But this isolation, the abstractions of activities and the opinions of
 them are not the concept and the rational truth themselves.
§ 369
As the soul, intelligence is immediately determined, as consciousness it is rela
ted to this determinacy as to an external object; as intelligence it finds itsel
f thus determined. It is therefore: (1) feeling, the inarticulate weave of the s
pirit into itself in which it is to some extent palpable, and contains the whole
material of its knowledge. For the sake of the immediacy in which the spirit is
as feeling or sensation, it exists above all only as individual and subjective.

§ 370
The form of sensation is, to be sure, a determinate affection, but this determin
acy is simple and in it the differentiation of both their content against other
contents, and the externality of it against the subjectivity which is still not
posited.
It is commonly enough assumed that the spirit has in its sensation the material
of its representations, but this thesis is more usually understood in a sense an
tithetical to that which it has here. In contrast with the simplicity of feeling
, it is usual rather to assume that the primary mental phase is judgment general
ly and the distinction of consciousness into subject and object, and the particu
lar quality of sensation is derived from an independent object, external or inte
rnal. Here in the sphere of the spirit, this standpoint of consciousness opposed
to idealism has been submerged. The feeling or the sensation are, by their form
, resembling content, since it is this immediate, still implicitly undifferentia
ted, dull knowledge of the spirit.
Aristotle, too, recognised the determination of sensation, for he saw that the s
entient subject and the sensed object, separated by consciousness, only exist as
the sensation of the possibility, though he said of the sensation that the ente
lechy of the sentient and the sensed are one and the same.-No prejudice is proba
bly more false than the thesis that nothing exists in thought which does not exi
st in the senses, --and indeed, in the usual sense which is attributed to Aristo
tle. His actual philosophy, however, is the exact opposite of this idea.
Another equally familiar prejudice as this historical one is the idea that there
is more in feeling than in thought; this point is often made in regards to mora
l and religious feelings. Now it has happened that the material which itself is
the feeling spirit is the being determined in and for itself of reason. But this
form of simplicity is the lowest an the worst, in which it can not be as spirit
, as the free entity or the infinite generality which is its essence. It must, r
ather, above all go beyond this untrue manner of its being, because it exists in
immediacy as determinate, and in any case is only a contingent, subjective, and
particular entity. If someone refers on any topic not to the nature and the con
cept of the issue, least of all to reasons or to the generalities of common sens
e, but to one's own feeling, the only thing to do is to leave them alone, becaus
e by their behaviour they reject the community of rationality, and shut themselv
es up in their own isolated subjectivity, their private and particular selves.
§ 371
The abstract identical direction of the spirit in sensation, as in all other of
its further determinations, is attention: the moment of the formal self-determin
ation of the intelligence.
§ 372
This self-determination is, however, essentially not abstract; as an infinitude
it dissolves the simplicity of its determinate being and thereby suspends its im
mediacy. Thus it posits itself as a negative, the felt entity, distinct from the
intelligence as reflective into itself and from the subject, in which feeling i
s suspended. This level of reflection is the representation.
§ 373
(2) The representing activity of the intelligence is: (a) recollection. With its
simple, dissolving sensation and its determination as a negative extreme set ag
ainst the reflection into itself recollection posits the content of the sensatio
n as subsisting outside of itself Thus it throws content into space and time, an
d is intuitive. The intuition is immediate, insofar as the abstract alienation a
nd the intelligence are not all reflection into themselves and set against this
externality.
§ 374
This positing, however, is the other extreme of the diremption: the intelligence
posits the content of its feeling in its own inwardness, in a space and time of
its own. In this way the content is an image or representation in general, free
d from its initial immediacy and abstract individuality among other things, and
taken up, at first abstractly and ideally, into the form of the self's generalit
y.
§ 375
Recollection is the relation of both, the subsumption of the immediate, individu
al intuition under this formal generality, the representation which is the same
content. Thus the intelligence in the determinate sensation and its intuition ar
e inward, recognise themselves thus, no longer require the intuition and possess
it as their own.
§ 376
(b) The intelligence which is active in this possession is the reproductive imag
ination, the production of images from the inferiority of the self The concrete
images are in the first place related to the external, immediate space and time
which are treasured along with them.-But since the image in the subject, where i
t is treasured, only has the negative unity in which it is carried and receives
its concretion, thus its originally concrete condition, by which as a unit of se
nsation and intuition or in consciousness it is determined, has been broken up.
The reproduced content, belonging as it does to the self-identical unity of the
intelligence, and emerging from its interior into the representation, is a gener
al representation, which supplies the link of association for the images which a
ccording to circumstances are either more abstract or more concrete representati
ons.
The "laws of the association of idea? were of great interest, especially during
that outburst of empirical psychology which occurred at the same time as the dec
line of philosophy. In the first place, it is not "ideas' which are associated.
Secondly, these modes of association are not laws, just for the reason that ther
e are so many laws about the same thing that they suggest an arbitrariness and a
contingency which are the very opposite of a law. The ongoing sequence of image
s and representations suggested by association is in general the play of thought
less representation, in which the determination of the intelligence is still an
entirely formal generality, a content given in the images.-Image and idea are on
ly distinguished by the fact that the former is more concrete; representation, t
he content, may be an image, concept, or idea, but always has the character, tho
ugh belonging to intelligence, of being given and immediate in terms of its cont
ent.-Otherwise it appears, since intuition is immediate relation, the self an id
eal one, and thus its self-reflection is an external generality, which is not ye
t the determination of the content, whereas representation and its production ar
e a determinate generality-that intuition, representation, and imagination are e
ssentially thinking, although they are not yet liberated thought, and their cont
ent is not a thought. --
Abstraction, which occurs in the representative activity, by which general repre
sentations are produced, is frequently explained as the incidence of many simila
r images one upon the other, and is supposed to be thus made intelligible. If th
is superimposition is to be no mere accident or without principle, a force of at
traction in similar images must be assumed, or something of the sort, which at t
he same time would have the negative power of rubbing off the still-dissimilar e
lements against each other. This force is in fact intelligence itself the self a
s a general entity that by its memory gives the images generality directly.
§ 377
Thus even the association of representations is a subsumption of the individual
under a single generality. This generality is at first a form of the intelligenc
e. But it is in itself just as much determinate, concrete subjectivity, and its
own content can be a thought, concept, or idea. As the subsumption of images und
er a specific content, intelligence recollects them in themselves as determinate
, and forms them into their content. In this way it is creative imagination, ima
gination which symbolises, allegorises, or poeticises.
§ 378
Intelligence has been so far perfected in the determinate recollection of creati
ve imagination that its self-generated content has a pictorial existence. Yet th
e material of the pictorial creation is given, and the product does not have the
immediacy of existence. Intelligence must give the creation this immediacy: as
intelligence in the creation forms the totality of the representation, it has tu
rned back from its particularisation in subjective representation and animal int
uition to the free, identical relation to itself This recollection of the intuit
ion is memory.
§ 379
(c) Memory (Mnemosyne, muse) is the unity of the independent representation and
the intuition, with the former as a free attempt to utter itself immediately.-Th
is immediacy is, because the intelligence is not yet practical, immediate, or gi
ven; but in this identity the intuition does not count positively or as self-rep
resenting, but as a representative of something else. It is an image, which has
received as its soul and meaning an independent representation of the intelligen
ce. This intuition is the sign.
The sign is any immediate intuition, but representing a totally different conten
t from what it has for itself;-it is the pyramid, into which a foreign soul is c
onveyed and preserved. The sign is different from the symbol, an intuition which
according to its essence and concept is determined to be more or less the thoug
ht which it expresses as symbol. Intelligence, therefore, gives proof of a freer
choice and authority in the use of intuitions when it treats them as signifying
rather than symbolic.
Usually, language and the sign are relegated somewhere into the appendix on psyc
hology, or even logic, with no recognition of their necessity and connection in
the system of intelligent activity. The true place for the sign is the one just
mentioned: where intelligence, which intuitively generates time and place, now g
ives its own independent representations a determinate existence, a filled place
 and time, treating the intuition which it has as its own material of sensation,
eliminating its immediate and unique representation, and giving it another as i
ts meaning and soul.-This sign-creating activity may justifiably be called memor
y, or "productive memory," since memory, which is often used in ordinary life as
interchangeable and synonymous with recollection, and even with representation
and imagination, above all has only to do with signs. And even if it is used in
this more precise sense, it is otherwise thought of as only the reproductive mem
ory: the intelligence essentially produces, however, what it reproduces.
§ 380
The intuition, which is used for a sign is in its immediate phase given and spat
ial. But since it exists only as suspended, and the intelligence is its negativi
ty, the true form of the intuition as a sign is its existence in time, -- but th
is existence vanishes in the moment of being, and its tone is the fulfilled mani
festation of its self-proclaimed inferiority (§ 279). The tone which articulates i
tself further to express specific representations -- speech and its system, lang
uage -- gives to sensations and intuitions a second and higher existence than th
ey immediately possess, and invests the images with existence in the realm of re
presentation.
§ 381
The identity of intuition in the sign and its meaning is primarily a single prod
uction; but as a unity with the intelligence it is just as essentially general.
'Me activity of recollecting this and thereby making it general, as well as repr
oducing it, is the outwardly retentive and reproductive memory.
§ 382
There are many signs in general, and as such they are absolutely contingent in j
uxtaposition to each other. The empty bind which fixes such sequences and holds
them in this order is the entirely abstract, pure power of subjectivity, -- the
memory, which is called mechanical for the complete externality in which the mem
bers of such sequences are juxtaposed.
§ 383
The name is thus the thing, as it exists and has validity in the realm of repres
entation. But it also has an externality brought forth from the intelligence, an
d it is the intuition which is inessential for itself standing in the use of int
elligence and subjectively made, so that it only has value through the meaning g
iven to it by the intelligence, which is the determinate representation in and f
or itself and the thing or the objective entity. Mechanical memory is the formal
suspension of that subjectivity, whereby the contradiction of the sign falls aw
ay and the intelligence makes itself for itself in the habit of language a thing
, as an immediate objectivity. In this way, through the memory, it makes the tra
nsition to thought.
§ 384
(3) Through the recollection of its immediate determinacy and the manifestation
of its subjective activity of determination, the unity and truth of intelligence
are achieved: the thought. The thought is the thing, the simple identity of sub
jective and objective. What is thought, is; and what is, is only insofar as it i
s thought.
§ 385
Thought is in the first place formal: generality as generality, and just as much
 being as the simple subjectivity of intelligence. In this way it is not determi
nate in and for itself; the recollected representations brought to thought are,
insofar as they are still content, -- a content which in itself is only the dete
rminate being in and for itself of reason.
§ 386
Thought, however, as the free generality which it is only as pure negativity, is
therefore not: (a) only the formally identical understanding, but (b) essential
ly diremption and determination, -- judgment, and (c) the identity which finds i
tself in this particularisation, the concept and reason. Intelligence has determ
inate being in comprehension, though it existed at first as immediate material,
and in itself it is absolutely only its own, thereby it exists not as determinat
e being, but as the act of determination.
In logic there is thought, in the first place as it is in itself then as it is f
or itself and in and for itself-these have been viewed as being, reflection, con
cept, and as idea. In the soul it is alert self-possession; in consciousness it
also occurs as a phase. Thought thus recurs again and again in these different p
arts of philosophy, because they are different only through the element and the
form of the antithesis they are in, but thought is this one and the same centre,
to which as to their truth the antitheses return.
§ 387
Thought, as the free concept, is also free in terms of the content.. The determi
nacy of reason is the proper determinacy of subjective intelligence, and as dete
rminate it is its content and existence. Thinking subjectivity is thereby actual
; its determinations are purposes; it is free will.
(b.) Practical Spirit § 388
The spirit as intelligence is primarily, however, abstract for itself; as free w
ill it is fulfilled, because it exists as concept, as self-determining. This ful
filled being for itself or individuality constitutes the side of existence or re
ality, the idea of the spirit, whose concept is reason.
§ 389
This existence of the self-determination of spirit is in the first place immedia
te, where spirit finds itself and as inward in itself or through nature it is se
lf-determining individuality. It is therefore: (1) practical feeling.
§ 390
Free will is the individuality or the pure negativity of the self-determining be
ing for itself which is simply identical with reason and therefore general subje
ctivity itself, the will as intelligence. The immediate individuality of the wil
l in practical feelings thus has this content, but as immediately individual, he
nce contingent and subjective.
An appeal is sometimes made to the feeling of right and morality which the perso
n has in himself to his benevolent dispositions and so on, and to his heart in g
eneral, that is, to the subject, insofar as the different practical feelings are
all united in it. As far as this appeal implies: (1) that these determinations
are immanent in themselves, and (2) that when feeling is opposed to the logical
understanding, it, and not the partial abstractions of the understanding, may be
the totality, the appeal has a legitimate meaning. But on the other hand, feeli
ng too may be one-sided, inessential, and bad; through the form of the immediacy
it is essentially contingent and subjective. The rational, which exists in the
shape of rationality when it is apprehended by thought, has the same content as
the practical feeling has, but depicted in its generality and necessity, in its
objectivity and truth.
Thus it is foolish, on the one hand, to suppose that in the transition from feel
ing to law and duty there is any loss of content and excellence; it is this tran
sition which first brings feeling to its truth. It is equally foolish to conside
r intellect as superfluous or even harmful to feeling, heart, and will; the trut
h and, what is the same thing, the rationality of the heart and will can only fi
nd a place in the generality of the intelligence, not in the individuality of fe
eling.
On the other hand, however, it is suspicious and even worse to cling to feelings
and the heart as against intelligent rationality, because all that the former h
olds more than the latter is only particular subjectivity, vanity and caprice.-F
or the same reason it is out of place in an observation of feelings to deal with
anything beyond their form and to discuss their content; for the latter, when t
hought, is precisely what constitutes the self-determinations of the spirit in i
ts generality and necessity, its rights and duties.
§ 391
The practical feeling, as the self-determination of the thinking subject in gene
ral, contains the "ought" in relation to its subsisting individuality, which is
in itself worth nothing, and is determinate only in its identity with generality
as a true being subsisting for itself But the practical feeling, in its immedia
te individuality with the "ought," exists only in relation to determinacy; and s
ince in this immediacy it still has no necessary identity, it only yields the fe
eling of pleasantness or unpleasantness.
(1) Delight, joy, pain, and so on, shame, repentance, contentment, and so on, ar
e partly only modifications of the formal practical feeling in general, but also
partly different in the content which constitutes the determinacy of their "oug
ht."
(2) The celebrated question of the origin of evil in the world, at least insofar
as evil is understood merely as unpleasantness and pain, finds its answer here.
For evil is nothing other than the incongruity between the "is" and the "ought.
" This "ought," however, has many meanings, indeed, infinitely many, since conti
ngent purposes also have the form of the "ought." In the case of these casual ai
ms, evil only practices what is rightfully due to their vanity-and nullity. They
are themselves the evil, and that there are such and numerous other individuals
inadequate to the idea derives from the necessary indifference of the concept t
owards immediate being in general: the concept, as free reality, relates to bein
g essentially as determinate nullity in itself although being is also given acce
ss to free reality through the concept;-a contradiction which is called evil. In
death there is neither evil nor pain; for in inorganic nature the concept does
not confront its existence. But in life, and still more in the spirit, there. is
this distinction at hand, and this negativity, activity, self freedom, are the
principles of evil and of pain. --Jacob Boehme viewed serfhood as pain and tortu
re, and as the source of nature and the spirit.
§ 392
The practical "ought" is (2) a real judgment. The immediacy of feeling is, for t
he self-determination of the will, a negation; it thus constitutes the subjectiv
ity of the will, which should be suspended in order for the will to be identical
for itself Since this activity of the form is not yet liberated and is therefor
e formal, the will is still natural will, drive and inclination, and with the mo
re precise determinacy that the totality of the practical spirit places itself i
nto an individual one of the limited determinations, namely, passion.
§ 393
Inclinations and passions have as their contents the same self-determinations as
the practical feelings. Because the ones, like the others, are immediate self-d
eterminations which do not yet have the form of rationality, they are multiple p
articularities. They have, on the one hand, the rational nature of the spirit as
their basis, but on the other hand they belong to the subjective, individual wi
ll; they are thus essentially infected by contingency, and stand to the individu
al and to each other in a relation marked by external, confining necessity.
The same holds for the inclinations as for the feelings: although they are self-
determinations of the free will in itself in terms ' of content they are not fre
e for themselves, nor have they reached generality and objectivity. To be sure,
passion already contains this in its determination, though it is limited to a pa
rticularity of the will and the subjectivity of the individual, be the content w
hat it may. But with regard to the inclinations the question is raised: which ar
e good, and which are bad; up to what degree will the good continue to be good;
and, as there are many, each with its own particularities, how have they, since
they are after all located within one subject and according to experience can no
t all be gratified, suffered at least a little reciprocal restriction? In the fi
rst place, as regards these many drives and inclinations, the case is much the s
ame as with the psychic forces, the aggregate of which is the theoretical spirit
,-a collection which is now increased by the number of drives. The formal ration
ality of the drive and the inclination consists merely in the general drive not
to be subjective, but rather to be realised. Yet their true rationality can not
reveal itself from a perspective of external reflection, partly because it presu
pposes that a number of independent natural determinations and immediate drives
are fixed, partly because the immanent reflection of spirit itself goes beyond t
heir particularity and immediacy, and gives them a rationality and objectivity i
n which they exist as necessary relations, rights, and duties. It is this object
ification which reveals their content, their relation to each other, and above a
ll their truth. As Plato showed, the full reality of justice can only be present
ed in the objective figure of justice, namely, the construction of the state as
ethical life.
The answer to the question, then, of which are the good and rational inclination
s, and how they are to be subordinated to each other, transforms itself into the
exposition of the laws and forms of common life produced by the relations of th
e spirit as it suspends its subjectivity and realises itself,-- an objectivity i
n which precisely its self-determinations in general lose the form of inclinatio
ns, just as the content loses subjectivity, contingency, or caprice.
§ 394
The general moment in these drives is the individual subject, the act of satisfy
ing impulses or formal rationality, namely, the translation from subjectivity in
to objectivity. In the latter the former returns to itself: that the thing which
has emerged contains the moment of subjective individuality, is called the inte
rest.-- Since the activity is the individual subjectivity in that dialectical mo
vement, nothing is brought about without interest.
§ 395
Here, however, interest does not yet exist as the merely formal activity or pure
subjectivity, but has as drive or inclination a determinate content from the im
mediate will. The dialectic of this multiple and particular content is, however,
the simple subjectivity of the will itself which raises the contradiction of th
e drives in the first place as reflecting will into formal generality, and itsel
f makes (3) happiness its goal.
§ 396
Happiness is the confused representation of the satisfaction of all drives, whic
h, however, are either entirely or partly sacrificed to each other, preferred an
d presupposed. Their mutual limitation, on the one hand, is a mixture of qualita
tive and quantitative determinations; on the other hand, since the inclination i
s a subjective and immediate basis for determination, it is the subjective feeli
ng and good pleasure which must have the decisive vote as to where happiness is
to be placed.
§ 397
The will, which as passion is abstract understanding and converges into a unity
of its determinacies, is liberated in the general purpose of happiness from this
individualisation. The many particular inclinations, however, still taken as im
mediate, independent determinations, are at the same time suspended in the unity
of purpose of happiness, and as such are dependent. The will stands as this ind
eterminate generality, reflected into itself over the individual inclination; th
e generality is initially that of the will, since the two converge and thereby p
roduce determinate individuality and reality; the will exists from the standpoin
t of having to choose between inclinations, and involves choice.
§ 398
The will is in this way free for itself since it is, as the negativity of its im
mediate determinate being, reflected into itself; however, insofar as the conten
t that it includes with this individuality and reality remains a particularity,
it is only real as subjective and contingent will. As the contradiction of reali
sing itself in particularity and yet finding satisfaction in the generality from
which it at the same time derives, the will is in the first place the process o
f dispersion and the suspension of an inclination through the other, and the par
tial gratification which it entails, through another to infinity.
§ 399
The truth, however, of the particular aim of the will, of the particularity whic
h is just as much determinate as suspended, and of the abstract individuality, o
f choice, which yields just as much of a content in such a purpose as it does no
t yield, is the unity in which both are only a moment; the absolute individualit
y of the will, its pure freedom, which determines itself for itself in and for i
tself The spirit in this truth of self-determination, which is itself the goal a
s the pure reflection into itself is thus, as general, objective will, the objec
tive spirit.

________________

OBJECTIVE SPIRIT

Introduction
A. LAW
(a) PROPERTY
(b) CONTRACT
(c) RIGHT versus WRONG
B. MORALITY
(a) PURPOSE
(b) INTENTION WELFARE
(c) GOODNESS WICKEDNESS
C. ETHICS
(a) THE FAMILY
(b) CIVIL SOCIETY
(c) THE STATE

From Section Two of The Philosophy of Spirit,

Part III of the Encyclopaedia of the Philosophical Sciences
Introduction
¤ 483
The objective Mind is the absolute Idea, but only existing in posse: and as it i
s thus on the territory of finitude, its actual rationality retains the aspect o
f external apparency. The free will finds itself immediately confronted by diffe
rences which arise from the circumstance that freedom is its inward function and
aim, and is in relation to an external and already subsisting objectivity, whic
h splits up into different heads: viz. anthropological data (i.e. private and pe
rsonal needs), external things of nature which exist for consciousness, and the
ties of relation between individual wills which are conscious of their own diver
sity and particularity. These aspects constitute the external material for the e
mbodiment of the will.
¤ 484.
But the purposive action of this will is to realise its concept, Liberty, in the
se externally objective aspects, making the latter a world moulded by the former
, which in it is thus at home with itself, locked together with it: the concept
accordingly perfected to the Idea. Liberty, shaped into the actuality of a world
, receives the form of Necessity, the deeper substantial nexus of which is the s
ystem or organisation of the principles of liberty, whilst its phenomenal nexus
is power or authority, and the sentiment of obedience awakened in consciousness.

¤ 485.
This unity of the rational will with the single will (this being the peculiar an
d immediate medium in which the former is actualised) constitutes the simple act
uality of liberty. As it (and its content) belongs to thought, and is the virtua
l universal, the content has its right and true character only in the form of un
iversality. When invested with this character for the intelligent consciousness,
or instituted as an authoritative power, it is a Law. When, on the other hand,
the content is freed from the mixedness and fortuitousness, attaching to it in t
he practical feeling and in impulse, and is set and grafted in the individual wi
ll, not in the form of impulse, but in its universality, so as to become its hab
it, temper, and character, it exists as manner and custom, or Usage.
¤ 486.
This 'reality', in general, where free will has existence, is the Law (Right) -
the term being taken in a comprehensive sense not merely as the limited juristic
law, but as the actual body of all the conditions of freedom. These conditions,
in relation to the subjective will, where they, being universal, ought to have
and can only have their existence, are its Duties; whereas as its temper and hab
it they are Manners. What is a right is also a duty, and what is a duty, is also
a right. For a mode of existence is a right, only as a consequence of the free
substantial will: and the same content of fact, when referred to the will distin
guished as subjective and individual, is a duty. It is the same content which th
e subjective consciousness recognises as a duty, and brings into existence in th
ese several wills. The finitude of the objective will thus creates the semblance
of a distinction between rights and duties.
In the phenomenal range right and duty are correlata, at least in the sense that
to a right on my part corresponds a duty in someone else. But, in the light of
the concept, my right to a thing is not merely possession, but as possession by
a person it is property, or legal possession, and it is a duty to possess things
as property, i.e. to be as a person. Translated into the phenomenal relationshi
p, viz. relation to another person - this grows into the duty of someone else to
respect my right. In the morality of the conscience, duty in general is in me -
a free subject - at the same time a right of my subjective will or disposition.
But in this individualist moral sphere, there arises the division between what
is only inward purpose (disposition or intention), which only has its being in m
e and is merely subjective duty, and the actualization of that purpose: and with
this division a contingency and imperfection which makes the inadequacy of mere
individualistic morality. In social ethics these two parts have reached their t
ruth, their absolute unity; although even right and duty return to one another a
nd combine by means of certain adjustments and under the guise of necessity. The
rights of the father of the family over its members are equally duties towards
them; just as the children's duty of obedience is their right to be educated to
the liberty of manhood. The penal judicature of a government, its rights of admi
nistration, etc., are no less its duties to punish, to administer, etc.; as the
services of the members of the State in dues, military service, etc., are duties
and yet their right to the protection of their private property and of the gene
ral substantial life in which they have their root. All the aims of society and
the State are the private aims of the individuals. But the set of adjustments, b
y which their duties come back to them as the exercise and enjoyment of right, p
roduces an appearance of diversity: and this diversity is increased by the varie
ty of shapes which value assumes in the course of exchange, though it remains in
trinsically the same. Still it holds fundamentally good that he who has no right
s has no duties and vice versa.

¤ 487.
The free will is:
(A) Itself at first immediate, and hence as a single being- the person: the exis
tence which the person gives to its liberty is property. The Right as Right (law
) is formal, abstract right.
(B) When the will is reflected into self, so as to have its existence inside it,
and to be thus at the same time characterised as a particular, it is the right
of the subjective will, morality of the individual conscience.
(C) When the free will is the substantial will, made actual in the subject and c
onformable to its concept and rendered a totality of necessity - it is the ethic
s of actual life in family, civil society, and State.

A. LAW
(a) PROPERTY
¤ 488
Mind, in the immediacy of its self-secured liberty, is an individual, but one th
at knows its individuality as an absolutely free will: it is a person, in whom t
he inward sense of this freedom, as in itself still abstract and empty, has its
particularity and fulfilment not yet on its own part, but on an external thing.
This thing, as something devoid of will, has no rights against the subjectivity
of intelligence and volition, and is by that subjectivity made adjectival to it,
the external sphere of its liberty possession.
¤ 489.
By the judgement of possession, at first in the outward appropriation, the thing
acquires the predicate of 'mine'. But this predicate, on its own account merely
'practical', has here the signification that I import my personal will into the
thing. As so characterised, possession is property, which as possession is a me
ans, but as existence of the personality is an end.
¤ 490.
In his property the person is brought into union with himself. But the thing is
an abstractly external thing, and the I in it is abstractly external. The concre
te return of me into me in the externality is that I, the infinite self-relation
, am as a person the repulsion of me from myself, and have the existence of my p
ersonality in the being of other persons, in my relation to them and in my recog
nition by them, which is thus mutual.
¤ 491.
The thing is the mean by which the extremes meet in one. These extremes are the
persons who, in the knowledge of their identity as free, are simultaneously mutu
ally independent. For them my will has its definite recognizable existence in th
e thing by the immediate bodily act of taking possession, or by the formation of
the thing or, it may be, by mere designation of it.
¤ 492.
The casual aspect of property is that I place my will in this thing: so far my w
ill is arbitrary, I can just as well put it in it as not just as well withdraw i
t as not. But so far as my will lies in a thing, it is only I who can withdraw i
t: it is only with my will that the thing can pass to another, whose property it
similarly becomes only with his will: Contract.
(b) CONTRACT
¤ 493
The two wills and their agreement in the contract are as an internal state of mi
nd different from its realisation in the performance. The comparatively 'ideal'
utterance (of contract) in the stipulation contains the actual surrender of a pr
operty by the one, its changing hands, and its acceptance by the other will. The
contract is thus thoroughly binding: it does not need the performance of the on
e or the other to become so otherwise we should have an infinite regress or infi
nite division of thing, labour, and time. The utterance in the stipulation is co
mplete and exhaustive. The inwardness of the will which surrenders and the will
which accepts the property is in the realm of ideation, and in that realm the wo
rd is deed and thing (¤ 462) the full and complete deed, since here the conscienti
ousness of the will does not come under consideration (as to whether the thing i
s meant in earnest or is a deception), and the will refers only to the external
thing.
¤ 494.
Thus in the stipulation we have the substantial being of the contract standing o
ut in distinction from its real utterance in the performance, which is brought d
own to a mere sequel. In this way there is put into the thing or performance a d
istinction between its immediate specific quality and its substantial being or v
alue, meaning by value the quantitative terms into which that qualitative featur
e has been translated. One piece of property is thus made comparable with anothe
r, and may be made equivalent to a thing which is (in quality) wholly heterogene
ous. It is thus treated in general as an abstract, universal thing or commodity.

¤ 495.
The contract, as an agreement which has a voluntary origin and deals with a casu
al commodity, involves at the same time the giving to this 'accidental' will a p
ositive fixity. This will may just as well not be conformable to law (right), an
d, in that case, produces a wrong; by which, however, the absolute law (right) i
s not superseded, but only a relationship originated of right to wrong.
(c) RIGHT versus WRONG
¤ 496
Law (right) considered as the realisation of liberty in externals, breaks up int
o a multiplicity of relations to this external sphere and to other persons (¤¤ 491,
493 ff.). In this way there are (1) several titles or grounds at law, of which (
seeing that property both on the personal and the real side is exclusively indiv
idual) only one is the right, but which, because they face each other, each and
all are invested with a show of right, against which the former is defined as th
e intrinsically right.
¤ 497.
Now so long as (compared against this show) the one intrinsically right, still p
resumed identical with the several titles, is affirmed, willed, and recognised,
the only diversity lies in this, that the special thing is subsumed under the on
e law or right by the particular will of these several persons. This is naive, n
on-malicious wrong. Such wrong in the several claimants is a simple negative jud
gement, expressing the civil suit. To settle it there is required a third judgem
ent, which, as the judgement of the intrinsically right, is disinterested, and a
power of giving the one right existence as against that semblance.
¤ 498.
But (2) if the semblance of right as such is willed against the right intrinsica
lly by the particular will, which thus becomes wicked, then the external recogni
tion of right is separated from the right's true value; and while the former onl
y is respected, the latter is violated. This gives the wrong of fraud the infini
te judgement as identical (¤173) where the nominal relation is retained, but the s
terling value is let slip.
¤ 499.
(3) Finally, the particular will sets itself in opposition to the intrinsic righ
t by negating that right itself as well as its recognition or semblance. (Here t
here is a negatively infinite judgement (¤ 173) in which there is denied the class
as a whole, and not merely the particular mode in this case the apparent recogn
ition.) Thus the will is violently wicked, and commits a crime.
¤ 500.
As an outrage on right, such an action is essentially and actually null. In it t
he agent, as a volitional and intelligent being, sets up a law a law, however, w
hich is nominal and recognised by him only a universal which holds good for him,
and under which he has at the same time subsumed himself by his action. To disp
lay the nullity of such an act, to carry out simultaneously this nominal law and
the intrinsic right, in the first instance by means of a subjective individual
will, is the work of Revenge. But revenge, starting from the interest of an imme
diate particular personality, is at the same time only a new outrage; and so on
without end. This progression, like the last, abolishes itself in a third judgem
ent, which is disinterested punishment.
¤ 501.
The instrumentality by which authority is given to intrinsic right is that a par
ticular will, that of the judge, being conformable to the right, has an interest
to turn against the crime (which in the first instance, in revenge, is a matter
of chance), and that an executive power (also in the first instance casual) neg
ates the negation of right that was created by the criminal. This negation of ri
ght has its existence in the will of the criminal; and consequently revenge or p
unishment directs itself against the person or property of the criminal and exer
cises coercion upon him. It is in this legal sphere that coercion in general has
possible scope compulsion against the thing, in seizing and maintaining it agai
nst another's seizure: for in this sphere the will has its existence immediately
in externals as such, or in corporeity, and can be seized only in this quarter.
But more than possible compulsion is not, so long as I can withdraw myself as f
ree from every mode of existence, even from the range of all existence, i.e. fro
m life. It is legal only as abolishing a first and original compulsion.
¤ 502.
A distinction has thus emerged between the law (right) and the subjective will.
The 'reality' of right, which the personal will in the first instance gives itse
lf in immediate wise, is seen to be due to the instrumentality of the subjective
will whose influence as on one hand it gives existence to the essential right,
so may on the other cut itself off from and oppose itself to it. Conversely, the
claim of the subjective will to be in this abstraction a power over the law of
right is null and empty of itself: it gets truth and reality essentially only so
far as that will in itself realises the reasonable will. As such it is B>morali
ty proper.
The phrase 'Law of Nature', or Natural Right, in use for the philosophy of law i
nvolves the ambiguity that it may mean either right as something existing ready-
formed in nature, or right as governed by the nature of things, i.e. by the noti
on. The former used to be the common meaning, accompanied with the fiction of a
state of nature, in which the law of nature should hold sway; whereas the social
and political state rather required and implied a restriction of liberty and a
sacrifice of natural rights. The real fact is that the whole law and its every a
rticle are based on free personality alone on self-determination or autonomy, wh
ich is the very contrary of determination by nature. The law of nature strictly
so called is for that reason the predominance of the strong and the reign of for
ce, and a state of nature a state of violence and wrong, of which nothing truer
can be said than that one ought to depart from it. The social state, on the othe
r hand, is the condition in which alone right has its actuality: what is to be r
estricted and sacrificed is just the wilfulness and violence of the state of nat
ure.
Morality

B. MORALITY
¤ 503
The free individual, who, in mere law, counts only as a person, is now character
ised as a subject a will reflected into itself so that, be its affection what it
may, it is distinguished (as existing in it) as its own from the existence of f
reedom in an external thing. Because the affection of the will is thus inwardise
d, the will is at the same time made a particular, and there arise further parti
cularisations of it and relations of these to one another. This affection is par
tly the essential and implicit will, the reason of the will, the essential basis
of law and moral life: partly it is the existent volition, which is before us a
nd throws itself into actual deeds, and thus comes into relationship with the fo
rmer. The subjective will is morally free, so far as these features are its inwa
rd institution, its own, and willed by it. Its utterance in deed with this freed
om is an action, in the externality of which it only admits as its own, and allo
ws to be imputed to it, so much as it has consciously willed.
This subjective or 'moral' freedom is what a European especially calls freedom.
In virtue of the right thereto a man must possess a personal knowledge of the di
stinction between good and evil in general: ethical and religious principles sha
ll not merely lay their claim on him as external laws and precepts of authority
to be obeyed, but have their assent, recognition, or even justification in his h
eart, sentiment, conscience, intelligence, etc. The subjectivity of the will in
itself is its supreme aim and absolutely essential to it.
The 'moral' must be taken in the wider sense in which it does not signify the mo
rally good merely. In French le moral is opposed to le physique, and means the m
ental or intellectual in general. But here the moral signifies volitional mode,
so far as it is in the interior of the will in general; it thus includes purpose
and intention and also moral wickedness.
(a) PURPOSE
¤ 504
So far as the action comes into immediate touch with existence, my part in it is
to this extent formal, that external existence is also independent of the agent
. This externally can pervert his action and bring to light something else than
lay in it. Now, though any alteration as such, which is set on foot by the subje
cts' action, is its deed, still the subject does not for that reason recognise i
t as its action, but only admits as its own that existence in the deed which lay
in its knowledge and will, which was its purpose. Only for that does it hold it
self responsible.
(b) INTENTION WELFARE
¤ 505
As regards its empirically concrete content (1) the action has a variety of part
icular aspects and connections. In point of form, the agent must have known and
willed the action in its essential feature, embracing these individual points. T
his is the right of intention. While purpose affects only the immediate fact of
existence, intention regards the underlying essence and aim thereof. (2)The agen
t has no less the right to see that the particularity of content in the action,
in point of its matter, is not something external to him, but is a particularity
 of his own that it contains his needs, interests, and aims. These aims, when si
milarly comprehended in a single aim, as in happiness (¤ 479), constitute his well
-being. This is the right to well-being. Happiness (good fortune) is distinguish
ed from well- being only in this, that happiness implies no more than some sort
of immediate existence, whereas well-being is regarded as having a moral justifi
cation.
¤ 506.
But the essentiality of the intention is in the first instance the abstract form
of generality. Reflection can put in this form this and that particular aspect
in the empirically concrete action, thus making it essential to the intention or
restricting the intention to it. In this way the supposed essentiality of the i
ntention and the real essentiality of the action may be brought into the greates
t contradiction e.g. a good intention in case of a crime. Similarly well-being i
s abstract and may be placed in this or that: as appertaining to this single age
nt, it is always something particular.
(c) GOODNESS WICKEDNESS
¤ 507
The truth of these particularities and the concrete unity of their formalism is
the content of the universal, essential and actual, will the law and underlying
essence of every phase of volition, the essential and actual good. It is thus th
e absolute final aim of the world, and duty for the agent who ought to have insi
ght into the good, make it his intention and bring it about by his activity.
¤ 508.
But though the good is the universal of will a universal determined in itself an
d thus including in it particularity still so far as this particularity is in th
e first instance still abstract, there is no principle at hand to determine it.
Such determination therefore starts up also outside that universal; and as heter
onomy or determinance of a will which is free and has rights of its own, there a
wakes here the deepest contradiction. (a) In consequence of the indeterminate de
terminism of the good, there are always several sorts of good and many kinds of
duties, the variety of which is a dialectic of one against another and brings th
em into collision. At the same time because good is one, they ought to stand in
harmony; and yet each of them, though it is a particular duty, is as good and as
duty absolute. It falls upon the agent to be the dialectic which, superseding t
his absolute claim of each, concludes such a combination of them as excludes the
rest.
¤ 509.
(b) To the agent, who in his existent sphere of liberty is essentially as a part
icular, his interest and welfare must, on account of that existent sphere of lib
erty, be essentially an aim and therefore a duty. But at the same time in aiming
at the good, which is the not-particular but only universal of the will, the pa
rticular interest ought not to be a constituent motive. On account of this indep
endency of the two principles of action, it is likewise an accident whether they
harmonise. And yet they ought to harmonise, because the agent, as individual an
d universal, is always fundamentally one identity.
(c) But the agent is not only a mere particular in his existence; it is also a f
orm of his existence to be an abstract self-certainty, an abstract reflection of
freedom into himself. He is thus distinct from the reason in the will, and capa
ble of making the universal itself a particular and in that way a semblance. The
good is thus reduced to the level of a mere 'may happen' for the agent, who can
 therefore decide on something opposite to the good, can be wicked.
¤ 510.
(d) The external objectivity, following the distinction which has arisen in the
subjective will (¤ 503), constitutes a peculiar world of its own another extreme w
hich stands in no rapport with the internal will-determination. It is thus a mat
ter of chance whether it harmonises with the subjective aims, whether the good i
s realised, and the wicked, an aim essentially and actually null, nullified in i
t: it is no less matter of chance whether the agent finds in it his well- being,
and more precisely whether in the world the good agent is happy and the wicked
unhappy. But at the same time the world ought to allow the good action, the esse
ntial thing, to be carried out in it; it ought to grant the good agent the satis
faction of his particular interest, and refuse it to the wicked; just as it ough
t also to make the wicked itself null and void.
¤ 511.
The all-round contradiction, expressed by this repeated ought, with its absolute
ness which yet at the same time is not contains the most abstract 'analysis' of
the mind in itself, its deepest descent into itself. The only relation the self-
contradictory principles have to one another is in the abstract certainty of sel
f; and for this infinitude of subjectivity the universal will, good, right, and
duty, no more exist than not. The subjectivity alone is aware of itself as choos
ing and deciding. This pure self-certitude, rising to its pitch, appears in the
two directly inter-changing forms of Conscience and Wickedness. The former is th
e will of goodness; but a goodness which to this pure subjectivity is the non-ob
jective, non-universal, the unutterable; and over which the agent is conscious t
hat he in his individuality has the decision. Wickedness is the same awareness t
hat the single self possesses the decision, so far as the single self does not m
erely remain in this abstraction, but takes up the content of a subjective inter
est contrary to the good.
¤ 512.
This supreme pitch of the 'phenomenon' of will sublimating itself to this absolu
te vanity to a goodness, which has no objectivity, but is only sure of itself, a
nd a self-assurance which involves the nullification of the universal-collapses
by its own force. Wickedness, as the most intimate reflection of subjectivity it
self, in opposition to the objective and universal (which it treats as mere sham
) is the same as the good sentiment of abstract goodness, which reserves to the
subjectivity the determination thereof: - the utterly abstract semblance, the ba
re perversion and annihilation of itself. The result, the truth of this semblanc
e, is, on its negative side, the absolute nullity of this volition which would f
ain hold its own against the good, and of the good, which would only be abstract
.
On the affirmative side, in the notion, this semblance thus collapsing is the sa
me simple universality of the will, which is the good. The subjectivity, in this
its identity with the good, is only the infinite form, which actualises and dev
elops it. In this way the standpoint of bare reciprocity between two independent
sides the standpoint of the ought, is abandoned, and we have passed into the fi
eld of ethical life.
C. ETHICS
¤ 513
The moral life is the perfection of spirit objective the truth of the subjective
and objective spirit itself. The failure of the latter consists partly in havin
g its freedom immediately in reality, in something external therefore, in a thin
g partly in the abstract universality of its goodness. The failure of spirit sub
jective similarly consists in this, that it is, as against the universal, abstra
ctly self-determinant in its inward individuality. When these two imperfections
are suppressed, subjective freedom exists as the covertly and overtly universal
rational will, which is sensible of itself and actively disposed in the consciou
sness of the individual subject, whilst its practical operation and immediate un
iversal actuality at the same time exist as moral usage, manner and custom where
self-conscious liberty has become nature.
¤ 514
The consciously free substance, in which the absolute 'ought' is no less an 'is'
, has actuality as the spirit of a nation. The abstract disruption of this spiri
t singles it out into persons, whose independence it, however, controls and enti
rely dominates from within. But the person, as an intelligent being, feels that
underlying essence to be his own very being ceases when so minded to be a mere a
ccident of it looks upon it as his absolute final aim. In its actuality he sees
not less an achieved present, than somewhat he brings about by his action yet so
mewhat which without all question is. Thus, without any selective reflection, th
e person performs his duty as his own and as something which is; and in this nec
essity he has himself and his actual freedom.
¤ 515
Because the substance is the absolute unity of individuality and universality of
freedom, it follows that the actuality and action of each individual to keep an
d to take care of his own being, while it is on one hand conditioned by the pre-
supposed total in whose complex alone he exists, is on the other a transition in
to a universal product. The social disposition of the individuals is their sense
of the substance, and of the identity of all their interests with the total; an
d that the other individuals mutually know each other and are actual only in thi
s identity, is confidence (trust) the genuine ethical temper.
¤ 516
The relations between individuals in the several situations to which the substan
ce is particularised form their ethical duties. The ethical personality, i.e. th
e subjectivity which is permeated by the substantial life, is virtue. In relatio
n to the bare facts of external being, to destiny, virtue does not treat them as
a mere negation, and is thus a quiet repose in itself: in relation to substanti
al objectivity, to the total of ethical actuality, it exists as confidence, as d
eliberate work for the community, and the capacity of sacrificing self thereto;
whilst in relation to the incidental relations of social circumstance, it is in
the first instance justice and then benevolence. In the latter sphere, and in it
s attitude to its own visible being and corporeity, the individuality expresses
its special character, temperament, etc. as personal virtues.
¤ 517
The ethical substance is: (a) as 'immediate' or natural mind the Family. (b) The
'relative' totality of the 'relative' relations of the individuals as independe
nt persons to one another in a formal universality Civil Society. (c) The self-c
onscious substance, as the mind developed to an organic actuality the Political
Constitution.
(a) THE FAMILY
¤ 518
The ethical spirit, in its immediacy, contains the natural factor that the indiv
idual has its substantial existence in its natural universal, i.e. in its kind.
This is the sexual tie, elevated, however, to a spiritual significance, the unan
imity of love and the temper of trust. In the shape of the family, mind appears
as feeling.
¤ 519
(1) The physical difference of sex thus appears at the same time as a difference
of intellectual and moral type. With their exclusive individualities these pers
onalities combine to form a single person: the subjective union of hearts, becom
ing a 'substantial' unity, makes this union an ethical tie Marriage. The 'substa
ntial' union of hearts makes marriage an indivisible personal bond monogamic mar
riage: the bodily conjunction is a sequel to the moral attachment. A further seq
uel is community of personal and private interests.
¤ 520
(2) By the community in which the various members constituting the family stand
in reference to property, that property of the one person (representing the fami
ly) acquires an ethical interest, as do also its industry, labour, and care for
the future.
¤ 521
The ethical principle which is conjoined with the natural generation of the chil
dren, and which was assumed to have primary importance in first forming the marr
iage union, is actually realised in the second or spiritual birth of the childre
n in educating them to independent personality.
¤ 522
(3) The children, thus invested with independence, leave the concrete life and a
ction of the family to which they primarily belong, acquire an existence of thei
r own, destined, however, to found anew such an actual family. Marriage is of co
urse broken up by the natural element contained in it, the death of husband and
wife: but even their union of hearts, as it is a mere 'substantiality' of feelin
g, contains the germ of liability to chance and decay. In virtue of such fortuit
ousness, the members of the family take up to each other the status of persons;
and it is thus that the family finds introduced into it for the first time the e
lement, originally foreign to it, of legal regulation.
(b) CIVIL SOCIETY
¤ 523
As the substance, being an intelligent substance, particularises itself abstract
ly into many persons (the family is only a single person), into families or indi
viduals, who exist independent and free, as private persons, it loses its ethica
l character: for these persons as such have in their consciousness and as their
aim not the absolute unity, but their own petty selves and particular interests.
Thus arises the system of atomism by which the substance is reduced to a genera
l system of adjustments to connect self-subsisting extremes and their particular
interests. The developed totality of this connective system is the state as civ
il society, or state external.
(a) The System of Wants ¤ 524
(a) The particularity of the persons includes in the first instance their wants.
The possibility of satisfying these wants is here laid on the social fabric, th
e general stock from which all derive their satisfaction. In the condition of th
ings in which this method of satisfaction by indirect adjustment is realised, im
mediate seizure (¤ 488) of external objects as means thereto exists barely or not
at all: the objects are already property. To acquire them is only possible by th
e intervention, on one hand, of the possessor's will, which as particular has in
view the satisfaction of their variously defined interests; while, on the other
hand, it is conditioned by the ever-continued production of fresh means of exch
ange by the exchangers' own labour. This instrument, by which the labour of all
facilitates satisfaction of wants, constitutes the general stock.
¤ 525
(b) The glimmer of universal principle in this particularity of wants is found i
n the way intellect creates differences in them, and thus causes an indefinite m
ultiplication both of wants and of means for their different phases. Both are th
us rendered more and more abstract. This 'morcellement' of their content by abst
raction gives rise to the division of labour. The habit of this abstraction in e
njoyment, information, learning, and demeanour constitutes training in this sphe
re, or nominal culture in general.
¤ 526
The labour which thus becomes more abstract tends on one hand by its uniformity
to make labour easier and to increase production on another to limit each person
to a single kind of technical skill, and thus produce more unconditional depend
ence on the social system.. The skill itself becomes in this way mechanical, and
gets the capability of letting the machine take the place of human labour.
¤ 527
(c) But the concrete division of the general stock which is also a general busin
ess (of the whole society) into particular masses determined by the factors of t
he notion masses each of which possesses its own basis of subsistence, and a cor
responding mode of labour, of needs, and of means for satisfying them, also of a
ims and interests, as well as of mental culture and habit constitutes the differ
ence of Estates (orders or ranks). Individuals apportion themselves to these acc
ording to natural talent, skill, option, and accident. As belonging to such a de
finite and stable sphere, they have their actual existence, which as existence i
s essentially a particular; and in it they have their social morality, which is
honesty, their recognition and their honour.
Where civil society, and with it the State, exists, there arise the several esta
tes in their difference: for the universal substance, as vital, exists only so f
ar as it organically particularises itself. The history of constitutions is the
history of the growth of these estates, of the legal relationships of individual
s to them, and of these estates to one another and to their centre.
¤ 528
To the 'substantial', natural estate the fruitful soil and ground supply a natur
al and stable capital; its action gets direction and content through natural fea
tures, and its moral life is founded on faith and trust. The second, the 'reflec
ted' estate has as its allotment the social capital, the medium created by the a
ction of middlemen, of mere agents, and an ensemble of contingencies, where the
individual has to depend on his subjective skill, talent, intelligence, and indu
stry. The third, 'thinking' estate has for its business the general interests; l
ike the second it has a subsistence procured by means of its own skill, and like
the first a certain subsistence, certain, however, because guaranteed through t
he whole society.
(b) Administration of Justice ¤ 529
When matured through the operation of natural need and free option into a system
of universal relationships and a regular course of external necessity, the prin
ciple of casual particularity gets that stable articulation which liberty requir
es in the shape of formal right.
(1) The actualization which right gets in this sphere of mere practical intellig
ence is that it be brought to consciousness as the stable universal, that it be
known and stated in its specificality with the voice of authority the Law.
The positive element in laws concerns only their form of publicity and authority
which makes it possible for them to be known by all in a customary and external
way. Their content per se may be reasonable or it may be unreasonable and so wr
ong. But when right, in the course of definite manifestation, is developed in de
tail, and its content analyses itself to gain definiteness, this analysis, becau
se of the finitude of its materials, falls into the falsely infinite progress: t
he final definiteness, which is absolutely essential and causes a break in this
progress of unreality, can in this sphere of finitude be attained only in a way
that savours of contingency and arbitrariness. Thus whether three years, ten tha
lers, or only 2 1/2, 2 3/4, 2 4/5 years, and so on ad infinitum, be the right an
d just thing, can by no means be decided on intelligible principles and yet it s
hould be decided. Hence, though of course only at the final points of deciding,
on the side of external existence, the 'positive' principle naturally enters law
as contingency and arbitrariness. This happens and has from of old happened in
all legislations: the only thing wanted is clearly to be aware of it, and not be
misled by the talk and the pretence as if the ideal of law were, or could be, t
o be, at every point, determined through reason or legal intelligence, on purely
reasonable and intelligent grounds. It is a futile perfectionism to have such e
xpectations and to make such requirements in the sphere of the finite.
There are some who look upon laws as an evil and a profanity, and who regard gov
erning and being governed from natural love, hereditary divinity or nobility, by
faith and trust, as the genuine order of life, while the reign of law is held a
n order of corruption and injustice. These people forget that the stars and the
cattle too are governed and well governed too by laws; laws, however, which are
only internally in these objects, not for them, not as laws set to them: whereas
it is man's privilege to know his law. They forget therefore that he can truly
obey only such known law even as his law can only be a just law, as it is a know
n law; Ñ though in other respects it must be in its essential content contingency
and caprice, or at least be mixed and polluted with such elements.
The same empty requirement of perfection is employed for an opposite thesis viz.
to support the opinion that a code is impossible or impracticable. In this case
there comes in the additional absurdity of putting essential and universal prov
ision in one class with the particular detail. The finite material is definable
on and on to the false infinite: but this advance is not, as in the mental image
s of space, a generation of new spatial characteristics of the same quality as t
hose preceding them, but an advance into greater and ever greater speciality by
the acumen of the analytic intellect, which discovers new distinctions, which ag
ain make new decisions necessary. To provisions of this sort one may give the na
me of new decisions or new laws; but in proportion to the gradual advance in spe
cialization the interest and value of these provisions declines. They fall withi
n the already subsisting 'substantial', general laws, like improvements on a flo
or or a door, within the house which though something new, are not a new house.
But there is a contrary case. If the legislation of a rude age began with single
provisos, which go on by their very nature always increasing their number, ther
e arises, with the advance in multitude, the need of a simpler code the need, i.
e. of embracing that lot of singulars in their general features. To find and be
able to express these principles well beseems an intelligent and civilised natio
n. Such a gathering up of single rules into general forms, first really deservin
g the name of laws, has lately been begun in some directions by the English Mini
ster Peel, who has by so doing gained the gratitude, even the admiration, of his
countrymen.
¤ 530
(2) The positive form of Laws to be promulgated and made known as laws is a cond
ition of the external obligation to obey them; inasmuch as, being laws of strict
right, they touch only the abstract will itself at bottom external not the mora
l or ethical will. The subjectivity to which the will has in this direction a ri
ght is here only that the laws be known. This subjective existence, is as existe
nce of the absolute truth in this sphere of Right, at the same time an externall
y objective existence, as universal authority and necessity.
The legality of property and of private transactions concerned therewith in cons
ideration of the principle that all law must be promulgated, recognized, and thu
s become authoritative gets its universal guarantee through formalities.
¤ 531
(3) Legal forms get the necessity, to which objective existence determines itsel
f, in the judicial system. Abstract right has to exhibit itself to the court to
the individualised right as proven: a process in which there may be a difference
between what is abstractly right and what is provably right. The court takes co
gnisance and action in the interest of right as such, deprives the existence of
right of its contingency, and in particular transforms this existence as this ex
ists as revenge into punishment (¤ 500).
The comparison of the two species, or rather two elements in the judicial convic
tion, bearing on the actual state of the case in relation to the accused (1) acc
ording as that conviction is based on mere circumstances and other people's witn
ess alone or (2) in addition requires the confession of the accused, constitutes
the main point in the question of the so-called jury-courts. It is an essential
point that the two ingredients of a judicial cognisance, the judgement as to th
e state of the fact, and the judgement as application of the law to it, should,
as at bottom different sides, be exercised as different functions. By the said i
nstitution they are allotted even to bodies differently qualified from the one o
f which individuals belonging to the official judiciary are expressly excluded.
To carry this separation of functions up to this separation in the courts rests
rather on extra-essential considerations: the main point remains only the separa
te performance of these essentially different functions. It is a more important
point whether the confession of the accused is or is not to be made a condition
of penal judgement. The institution of the jury-court loses sight of this condit
ion. The point is that on this ground certainty is completely inseparable from t
ruth: but the confession is to be regarded as the very acme of certainty-giving
which in its nature is subjective. The final decision therefore lies with the co
nfession. To this therefore the accused has an absolute right, if the proof is t
o be made final and the judges to be convinced. No doubt this factor is incomple
te, because it is only one factor; but still more incomplete is the other when n
o less abstractly taken viz. mere circumstantial evidence. The jurors are essent
ially judges and pronounce a judgement. In so far, then, as all they have to go
on are such objective proofs, whilst at the same time their defect of certainty
(incomplete in so far as it is only in them) is admitted, the jury-court shows t
races of its barbaric origin in a confusion and admixture between objective proo
fs and subjective or so-called 'moral' conviction. It is easy to call extraordin
ary punishments an absurdity; but the fault lies rather with the shallowness whi
ch takes offence at a mere name. Materially the principle involves the differenc
e of objective probation according as it goes with or without the factor of abso
lute certification which lies in confession.
¤ 532
The function of judicial administration is only to actualise to necessity the ab
stract side of personal liberty in civil society. But this actualization rests a
t first on the particular subjectivity of the judge, since here as yet there is
not found the necessary unity of it with right in the abstract. Conversely, the
blind necessity of the system of wants is not lifted up into the consciousness o
f the universal, and worked from that point of view.
(c) Police and Corporation ¤ 533
Judicial administration naturally has no concern with such part of actions and i
nterests as belongs only to particularity, and leaves to chance not only the occ
urrence of crimes but also the care for public weal. In civil society the sole e
nd is to satisfy want and that, because it is man's want, in a uniform general w
ay, so as to secure this satisfaction. But the machinery of social necessity lea
ves in many ways a casualness about this satisfaction. This is due to the variab
ility of the wants themselves, in which opinion and subjective good-pleasure pla
y a great part. It results also from circumstances of locality, from the connect
ions between nation and nation, from errors and deceptions which can be foisted
upon single members of the social circulation and are capable of creating disord
er in it as also and especially from the unequal capacity of individuals to take
advantage of that general stock. The onward march of this necessity also sacrif
ices the very particularities by which it is brought about, and does not itself
contain the affirmative aim of securing the satisfaction of individuals. So far
as concerns them, it may be far from beneficial: yet here the individuals are th
e morally justifiable end.
¤ 534
To keep in view this general end, to ascertain the way in which the powers compo
sing that social necessity act, and their variable ingredients, and to maintain
that end in them and against them, is the work of an institution which assumes o
n one hand, to the concrete of civil society, the position of an external univer
sality. Such an order acts with the power of an external state, which, in so far
as it is rooted in the higher or substantial state, appears as state- 'police'.
On the other hand, in this sphere of particularity the only recognition of the
aim of substantial universality and the only carrying of it out is restricted to
the business of particular branches and interests. Thus we have the corporation
, in which the particular citizen in his private capacity finds the securing of
his stock, whilst at the same time he in it emerges from his single private inte
rest, and has a conscious activity for a comparatively universal end, just as in
his legal and professional duties he has his social morality.
(c) THE STATE
¤ 535
The State is the self-conscious ethical substance, the unification of the family
principle with that of civil society. The same unity, which is in the family as
a feeling of love, is its essence, receiving, however, at the same time through
the second principle of conscious and spontaneously active volition the form of
conscious universality. This universal principle, with all its evolution in det
ail, is the absolute aim and content of the knowing subject, which thus identifi
es itself in its volition with the system of reasonableness.
¤ 536
The state is (a) its inward structure as a self-relating development constitutio
nal (inner-state) law: (b) a particular individual, and therefore in connection
with other particular individuals international (outer-state) law; (c) but these
particular minds are only stages in the general development of mind in its actu
ality: universal history.
(a) Constitutional Law ¤ 537
The essence of the state is the universal, self-originated, and self-developed t
he reasonable spirit of will; but, as self-knowing and self-actualizing, sheer s
ubjectivity, and as an actuality one individual. Its work generally in relation
to the extreme of individuality as the multitude of individuals consists in a do
uble function. First it maintains them as persons, thus making right a necessary
actuality, then it promotes their welfare, which each originally takes care of
for himself, but which has a thoroughly general side; it protects the family and
guides civil society. Secondly, it carries back both, and the whole disposition
and action of the individual whose tendency is to become a centre of his own in
to the life of the universal substance; and, in this direction, as a free power
it interferes with those subordinate spheres and maintains them in substantial i
mmanence.
¤ 538
The laws express the special provisions for objective freedom. First, to the imm
ediate agent, his independent self-will and particular interest, they are restri
ctions. But, secondly, they are an absolute final end and the universal work: he
nce they are a product of the 'functions' of the various orders which parcel the
mselves more and more out of the general particularizing, and are a fruit of all
the acts and private concerns of individuals. Thirdly, they are the substance o
f the volition of individuals which volition is thereby free and of their dispos
ition: being as such exhibited as current usage.
¤ 539
As a living mind, the state only is as an organised whole, differentiated into p
articular agencies, which, proceeding from the one notion (though not known as n
otion) of the reasonable will, continually produce it as their result. The const
itution is this articulation or organisation of state-power. It provides for the
reasonable will in so far as it is in the individuals only implicitly the unive
rsal will Ñ coming to a consciousness and an understanding of itself and being fou
nd; also for that will being put in actuality, through the action of the governm
ent and its several branches, and not left to perish, but protected both against
their casual subjectivity and against that of the individuals. The constitution
is existent justice the actuality of liberty in the development of all its reas
onable provisions.
Liberty and Equality are the simple rubrics into which is frequently concentrate
d what should form the fundamental principle, the final aim and result of the co
nstitution. However true this is, the defect of these terms is their utter abstr
actness: if stuck to in this abstract form, they are principles which either pre
vent the rise of the concreteness of the state, i.e. its articulation into a con
stitution and a government in general, or destroy them. With the state there ari
ses inequality, the difference of governing powers and of governed, magistracies
, authorities, directories, etc. The principle of equality, logically carried ou
t, rejects all differences, and thus allows no sort of political condition to ex
ist. Liberty and equality are indeed the foundation of the state, but as the mos
t abstract also the most superficial, and for that very reason naturally the mos
t familiar. It is important therefore to study them closer.
As regards, first, Equality, the familiar proposition, All men are by nature equ
al, blunders by confusing the 'natural' with the 'notion'. It ought rather to re
ad: By nature men are only unequal. But the notion of liberty, as it exists as s
uch, without further specification and development, is abstract subjectivity, as
a person capable of property (¤ 488). This single abstract feature of personality
constitutes the actual equality of human beings. But that this freedom should e
xist, that it should be man (and not as in Greece, Rome, etc. some men) that is
recognized and legally regarded as a person, is so little by nature, that it is
rather only a result and product of the consciousness of the deepest principle o
f mind, and of the universality and expansion of this consciousness. That the ci
tizens are equal before the law contains a great truth, but which so expressed i
s a tautology: it only states that the legal status in general exists, that the
laws rule. But, as regards the concrete, the citizens besides their personality
are equal before the law only in these points when they are otherwise equal outs
ide the law. Only that equality which (in whatever way it be) they, as it happen
s, otherwise have in property, age, physical strength, talent, skill, etc. or ev
en in crime, can and ought to make them deserve equal treatment before the law:
only it can make them as regards taxation, military service, eligibility to offi
ce, etc.- punishment, etc. equal in the concrete. The laws themselves, except in
so far as they concern that narrow circle of personality, presuppose unequal co
nditions, and provide for the unequal legal duties and appurtenances resulting t
herefrom.
As regards Liberty, it is originally taken partly in a negative sense against ar
bitrary intolerance and lawless treatment, partly in the affirmative sense of su
bjective freedom; but this freedom is allowed great latitude both as regards the
agent's self-will and action for his particular ends, and as regards his claim
to have a personal intelligence and a personal share in general affairs. Formerl
y the legally defined rights, private as well as public rights of a nation, town
, etc. were called its 'liberties'. Really, every genuine law is a liberty: it c
ontains a reasonable principle of objective mind; in other words, it embodies a
liberty. Nothing has become, on the contrary, more familiar than the idea that e
ach must restrict his liberty in relation to the liberty of others: that the sta
te is a condition of such reciprocal restriction, and that the laws are restrict
ions. To such habits of mind liberty is viewed as only casual good pleasure and
self-will. Hence it has also been said that 'modern' nations are only susceptibl
e of equality, or of equality more than liberty: and that for no other reason th
an that, with an assumed definition of liberty (chiefly the participation of all
in political affairs and actions), it was impossible to make ends meet in actua
lity which is at once more reasonable and more powerful than abstract presupposi
tions. On the contrary, it should be said that it is just the great development
and maturity of form in modern states which produces the supreme concrete inequa
lity of individuals in actuality: while, through the deeper reasonableness of la
ws and the greater stability of the legal state, it gives rise to greater and mo
re stable liberty, which it can without incompatibility allow. Even the superfic
ial distinction of the words liberty and equality points to the fact that the fo
rmer tends to inequality: whereas, on the contrary, the current notions of liber
ty only carry us back to equality. But the more we fortify liberty, as security
of property, as possibility for each to develop and make the best of his talents
and good qualities, the more it gets taken for granted: and then the sense and
appreciation of liberty especially turns in a subjective direction. By this is m
eant the liberty to attempt action on every side, and to throw oneself at pleasu
re in action for particular and for general intellectual interests, the removal
of all checks on the individual particularity, as well as the inward liberty in
which the subject has principles, has an insight and conviction of his own, and
thus gains moral independence. But this liberty itself on one hand implies that
supreme differentiation in which men are unequal and make themselves more unequa
l by education; and on another it only grows up under conditions of that objecti
ve liberty, and is and could grow to such height only in modern states. If, with
this development of particularity, there be simultaneous and endless increase o
f the number of wants, and of the difficulty of satisfying them, of the lust of
argument and the fancy of detecting faults, with its insatiate vanity, it is all
 but part of that indiscriminating relaxation of individuality in this sphere wh
ich generates all possible complications, and must deal with them as it can. Suc
h a sphere is of course also the field of restrictions, because liberty is there
under the taint of natural self-will and self-pleasing, and has therefore to re
strict itself: and that, not merely with regard to the naturalness, self-will an
d self-conceit, of others, but especially and essentially with regard to reasona
ble liberty.
The term political liberty, however, is often used to mean formal participation
in the public affairs of state by the will and action even of those individuals
who otherwise find their chief function in the particular aims and business of c
ivil society. And it has in part become usual to give the title constitution onl
y to the side of the state which concerns such participation of these individual
s in general affairs, and to regard a state, in which this is not formally done,
as a state without a constitution. On this use of the term the only thing to re
mark is that by constitution must be understood the determination of rights, i.e
. of liberties in general, and the organisation of the actualization of them; an
d that political freedom in the above sense can in any case only constitute a pa
rt of it. Of it the following paragraphs will speak.
¤ 540
The guarantee of a constitution (i.e. the necessity that the laws be reasonable,
and their actualization secured) lies in the collective spirit of the nation es
pecially in the specific way in which it is itself conscious of its reason. (Rel
igion is that consciousness in its absolute substantiality.) But the guarantee l
ies also, at the same time in the actual organisation or development of that pri
nciple in suitable institutions. The constitution presupposes that consciousness
of the collective spirit, and conversely that spirit presupposes the constituti
on: for the actual spirit only has a definite consciousness of its principles, i
n so far as it has them actually existent before it.
The question To whom (to what authority and how organised) belongs the power to
make a constitution? is the same as the question, Who has to make the spirit of
a nation? Separate our idea of a constitution from that of the collective spirit
, as if the latter exists or has existed without a constitution, and your fancy
only proves how superficially you have apprehended the nexus between the spirit
in its self-consciousness and in its actuality. What is thus called 'making' a '
constitution', is just because of this inseparability a thing that has never hap
pened in history, just as little as the making of a code of laws. A constitution
only develops from the national spirit identically with that spirit's own devel
opment, and runs through at the same time with it the grades of formation and th
e alterations required by its concept. It is the indwelling spirit and the histo
ry of the nation (and, be it added, the history is only that spirit's history) b
y which constitutions have been and are made.
¤ 541
The really living totality that which preserves, in other words continually prod
uces the state in general and its constitution, is the government. The organisat
ion which natural necessity gives is seen in the rise of the family and of the '
estates' of civil society. The government is the universal part of the constitut
ion, i.e. the part which intentionally aims at preserving those parts, but at th
e same time gets hold of and carries out those general aims of the whole which r
ise above the function, of the family and of civil society. The organisation of
the government is likewise its differentiation into powers, as their peculiariti
es have a basis in principle; yet without that difference losing touch with the
actual unity they have in the notion's subjectivity.
As the most obvious categories of the notion are those of universality and indiv
iduality, and their relationship that of subsumption of individual under univers
al, it has come about that in the state the legislative and executive power have
been so distinguished as to make the former exist apart as the absolute superio
r, and to subdivide the latter again into administrative (government) power and
judicial power, according as the laws are applied to public or private affairs.
The division of these powers has been treated as the condition of political equi
librium, meaning by division their independence one of another in existence Ñ subj
ect always, however, to the abovementioned subsumption of the powers of the indi
vidual under the power of the general. The theory of such 'division' unmistakabl
y implies the elements of the notion, but so combined by 'understanding' as to r
esult in an absurd collocation, instead of the self-redintegration of the living
spirit. The one essential canon to make liberty deep and real is to give every
business belonging to the general interests of the state a separate organisation
wherever they are essentially distinct. Such real division must be: for liberty
is only deep when it is differentiated in all its fullness and these difference
s manifested in existence. But to make the business of legislation an independen
t power to make it the first power, with the further proviso that all citizens s
hall have part therein, and the government be merely executive and dependent, pr
esupposes ignorance that the true idea, and therefore the living and spiritual a
ctuality, is the self-redintegrating notion, in other words, the subjectivity wh
ich contains in it universality as only one of its moments. (A mistake still gre
ater, if it goes with the fancy that the constitution and the fundamental laws w
ere still one day to make in a state of society, which includes an already exist
ing development of differences.) Individuality is the first and supreme principl
e which makes itself felt through the state's organisation. Only through the gov
ernment, and by its embracing in itself the particular businesses (including the
abstract legislative business, which taken apart is also particular), is the st
ate one. These, as always, are the terms on which the different elements essenti
ally and alone truly stand towards each other in the logic of 'reason', as oppos
ed to the external footing they stand on in 'understanding', which never gets be
yond subsuming the individual and particular under the universal. What disorgani
ses the unity of logical reason, equally disorganises actuality.
¤ 542
In the government regarded as organic totality the sovereign power (principate)
is (a) subjectivity as the infinite self-unity of the notion in its development;
the all-sustaining, all-decreeing will of the state, its highest peak and all-p
ervasive unity. In the perfect form of the state, in which each and every elemen
t of the notion has reached free existence, this subjectivity is not a so-called
'moral person', or a decree issuing from a majority (forms in which the unity o
f the decreeing will has not an actual existence), but an actual individual the
will of a decreeing individual, monarchy. The monarchical constitution is theref
ore the constitution of developed reason: all other constitutions belong to lowe
r grades of the development and realization of reason.
The unification of all concrete state-powers into one existence, as in the patri
archal society or, as in a democratic constitution, the participation of all in
all affairs impugns the principle of the division of powers, i.e. the developed
liberty of the constituent factors of the Idea. But no whit less must the divisi
on (the working out of these factors each to a free totality) be reduced to 'ide
al' unity, i.e. to subjectivity. The mature differentiation or realization of th
e Idea means, essentially, that this subjectivity should grow to be a real 'mome
nt', an actual existence; and this actuality is not otherwise than as the indivi
duality of the monarch the subjectivity of abstract and final decision existent
in one person. All those forms of collective decreeing and willing a common will
which shall be the sum and the resultant (on aristocratic or democratic princip
les) of the atomistic of single wills, have on them the mark of the unreality of
an abstraction. Two points only are all-important, first to see the necessity o
f each of the notional factors, and secondly the form in which it is actualised.
 It is only the nature of the speculative notion which can really give light on
the matter. That subjectivity being the 'moment' which emphasises the need of ab
stract deciding in general partly leads on to the proviso that the name of the m
onarch appear as the bond and sanction under which everything is done in the gov
ernment; Ñ partly, being simple self-relation, has attached to it the characterist
ic of immediacy, and then of nature whereby the destination of individuals for t
he dignity of the princely power is fixed by inheritance.
¤ 543
(b) In the particular government-power there emerges, first, the division of sta
te-business into its branches (otherwise defined), legislative power, administra
tion of justice or judicial power, administration and police, and its consequent
distribution between particular boards or offices, which having their business
appointed by law, to that end and for that reason, possess independence of actio
n, without at the same time ceasing to stand under higher supervision. Secondly,
too, there arises the participation of several in state-business, who together
constitute the 'general order' (¤ 528) in so far as they take on themselves the ch
arge of universal ends as the essential function of their particular life; the f
urther condition for being able to take individually part in this business being
a certain training, aptitude, and skill for such ends.
¤ 544
The estates-collegium or provincial council is an institution by which all such
as belong to civil society in general, and are to that degree private persons, p
articipate in the governmental power, especially in legislation viz. such legisl
ation as concerns the universal scope of those interests which do not, like peac
e and war, involve the, as it were, personal interference and action of the Stat
e as one man, and therefore do not belong specially to the province of the sover
eign power. By virtue of this participation subjective liberty and conceit, with
their general opinion, can show themselves palpably efficacious and enjoy the s
atisfaction of feeling themselves to count for something.
The division of constitutions into democracy, aristocracy and monarchy, is still
the most definite statement of their difference in relation to sovereignty. The
y must at the same time be regarded as necessary structures in the path of devel
opment in short, in the history of the State. Hence it is superficial and absurd
to represent them as an object of choice. The pure forms necessary to the proce
ss of evolution are, in so far as they are finite and in course of change, conjo
ined both with forms of their degeneration such as ochlocracy, etc., and with ea
rlier transition-forms. These two forms are not to be confused with those legiti
mate structures. Thus, it may be if we look only to the fact that the will of on
e individual stands at the head of the state oriental despotism is included unde
r the vague name monarchy as also feudal monarchy, to which indeed even the favo
urite name of 'constitutional monarchy' cannot be refused. The true difference o
f these forms from genuine monarchy depends on the true value of those principle
s of right which are in vogue and have their actuality and guarantee in the stat
e-power. These principles are those expounded earlier, liberty of property, and
above all personal liberty, civil society, with its industry and its communities
, and the regulated efficiency of the particular bureaux in subordination to the
laws.
The question which is most discussed is in what sense we are to understand the p
articipation of private persons in state affairs. For it is as private persons t
hat the members of bodies of estates are primarily to be taken, be they treated
as mere individuals, or as representatives of a number of people or of the natio
n. The aggregate of private persons is often spoken of as the nation: but as suc
h an aggregate it is vulgus, not populus: and in this direction it is the one so
le aim of the state that a nation should not come to existence, to power and act
ion, as such an aggregate. Such a condition of a nation is a condition of lawles
sness, demoralization, brutishness: in it the nation would only be a shapeless,
wild, blind force, like that of the stormy, elemental sea, which, however, is no
t self-destructive, as the nation a spiritual element would be. Yet such a condi
tion may be often heard described as that of true freedom. If there is to be any
sense in embarking upon the question of the participation of private persons in
public affairs, it is not a brutish mass, but an already organised nation - one
in which a governmental power exists which should be presupposed. The desirabil
ity of such participation, however, is not to be put in the superiority of parti
cular intelligence, which private persons are supposed to have over state offici
als the contrary must be the case nor in the superiority of their goodwill for t
he general best. The members of civil society as such are rather people who find
their nearest duty in their private interest and (as especially in the feudal s
ociety) in the interest of their privileged corporation. Take the case of Englan
d which, because private persons have a predominant share in public affairs, has
been regarded as having the freest of all constitutions. Experience shows that
that country Ñ as compared with the other civilised states of Europe is the most b
ackward in civil and criminal legislation, in the law and liberty of property, i
n arrangements for art and science, and that objective freedom or rational right
is rather sacrificed to formal right and particular private interest; and that
this happens even in the institutions and possessions supposed to be dedicated t
o religion. The desirability of private persons taking part in public affairs is
partly to be put in their concrete, and therefore more urgent, sense of general
wants. But the true motive is the right of the collective spirit to appear as a
n externally universal will, acting with orderly and express efficacy for the pu
blic concerns. By this satisfaction of this right it gets its own life quickened
, and at the same time breathes fresh life in the administrative officials; who
thus have it brought home to them that not merely have they to enforce duties bu
t also to have regard to rights. Private citizens are in the state the incompara
bly greater number, and form the multitude of such as are recognized as persons.
Hence the will reason exhibits its existence in them as a preponderating majori
ty of freemen, or in its 'reflectional' universality, which has its actuality vo
uchsafed it as a participation in the sovereignty. But it has already been noted
as a 'moment' of civil society (¤¤ 527, 534) that the individuals rise from externa
l into substantial universality, and form a particular kind the Estates: and it
is not in the inorganic form of mere individuals as such (after the democratic f
ashion of election), but as organic factors, as estates, that they enter upon th
at participation. In the state a power or agency must never appear and act as a
formless, inorganic shape, i.e. basing itself on the principle of multeity and m
ere numbers.
Assemblies of Estates have been wrongly designated as the legislative power, so
far as they form only one branch of that power Ñ a branch in which the special gov
ernment-officials have an ex officio share, while the sovereign power has the pr
ivilege of final decision. In a civilised state, moreover, legislation can only
be a further modification of existing laws, and so-called new laws can only deal
with minutiae of detail and particularities (cf. ¤ 529 note), the main drift of w
hich has been already prepared or preliminarily settled by the practice of the l
aw-courts. The so-called financial law, in so far as it requires the assent of t
he estates, is really a government affair: it is only improperly called a law, i
n the general sense of embracing a wide, indeed the whole, range of the external
means of government. The finances deal with what in their nature are only parti
cular needs, ever newly recurring, even if they touch on the sum total of such n
eeds. If the main part of the requirement were as it very likely is regarded as
permanent, the provision for it would have more the nature of a law: but to be a
law it would have to be made once for all, and not to be made yearly, or every
few years, afresh. The part which varies according to time and circumstances con
cerns in reality the smallest part of the amount, and the provisions with regard
to it have even less the character of a law: and yet it is and may be only this
slight variable part which is matter of dispute, and can be subjected to a vary
ing yearly estimate. It is this last then which falsely bears the high-sounding
names of the 'Grant' of the Budget, i.e. of the whole of the finances. A law for
one year and made each year has even to the plain man something palpably absurd
: for he distinguishes the essential and developed universal, as content of a tr
ue law, from the reflectional universality which only externally embraces what i
n its nature is many. To give the name of a law to the annual fixing of financia
l requirements only serves with the presupposed separation of legislative from e
xecutive to keep up the illusion of that separation having real existence, and t
o conceal the fact that the legislative power, when it makes a decree about fina
nce, is really engaged with strict executive business. But the importance attach
ed to the power of from time to time granting 'supply', on the ground that the a
ssembly of estates possesses in it a check on the government, and thus a guarant
ee against injustice and violence this importance is in one way rather plausible
than real. The financial measures necessary for the state's subsistence cannot
be made conditional on any other circumstances, nor can the state's subsistence
be put yearly in doubt. It would be a parallel absurdity if the government were,
e.g., to grant and arrange the judicial institutions always for a limited time
merely; and thus, by the threat of suspending the activity of such an institutio
n and the fear of a consequent state of brigandage, reserve for itself a means o
f coercing private individuals. Then again, the pictures of a condition of affai
rs, in which it might be useful and necessary to have in hand means of compulsio
n, are partly based on the false conception of a contract between rulers and rul
ed, and partly presuppose the possibility of such a divergence in spirit between
these two parties as would make constitution and government quite out of the qu
estion. If we suppose the empty possibility of getting help by such compulsive m
eans brought into existence, such help would rather be the derangement and disso
lution of the state, in which there would no longer be a government, but only pa
rties, and the violence and oppression of one party would only be helped away by
the other. To fit together the several parts of the state into a constitution a
fter the fashion of mere understanding i.e. to adjust within it the machinery of
a balance of powers external to each other is to contravene the fundamental ide
a of what a state is.
¤ 545
The final aspect of the state is to appear in immediate actuality as a single na
tion marked by physical conditions. As a single individual it is exclusive again
st other like individuals. In their mutual relations, waywardness and chance hav
e a place; for each person in the aggregate is autonomous: the universal of law
is only postulated between them, and not actually existent. This independence of
a central authority reduces disputes between them to terms of mutual violence,
a state of war, to meet which the general estate in the community assumes the pa
rticular function of maintaining the state's independence against other states,
and becomes the estate of bravery.
¤ 546.
This state of war shows the omnipotence of the state in its individuality - an i
ndividuality that goes even to abstract negativity. Country and fatherland then
appear as the power by which the particular independence of individuals and thei
r absorption in the external existence of possession and in natural life is conv
icted of its own nullity as the power which procures the maintenance of the gene
ral substance by the patriotic sacrifice on the part of these individuals of thi
s natural and particular existence so making nugatory the nugatoriness that conf
ronts it.
(b) External Public Law ¤ 547
In the state of war the independence of States is at stake. In one case the resu
lt may be the mutual recognition of free national individualities (¤ 430): and by
peace-conventions supposed to be for ever, both this general recognition, and th
e special claims of nations on one another, are settled and fixed. External stat
e-rights rest partly on these positive treaties, but to that extent contain only
rights failing short of true actuality (¤ 545): partly so-called international la
w, the general principle of which is its presupposed recognition by the several
States. It thus restricts their otherwise unchecked action against one another i
n such a way that the possibility of peace is left; and distinguishes individual
s as private persons (non-belligerents) from the state. In general, internationa
l law rests on social usage.
(c) Universal History ¤ 548
As the mind of a special nation is actual and its liberty is under natural condi
tions, it admits on this nature-side the influence of geographical and climatic
qualities. It is in time; and as regards its range and scope, has essentially a
particular principle on the lines of which it must run through a development of
its consciousness and its actuality. It has, in short, a history of its own. But
as a restricted mind its independence is something secondary; it passes into un
iversal world-history, the events of which exhibit the dialectic of the several
national minds - the judgement of the world.
¤ 549
This movement is the path of liberation for the spiritual substance, the deed by
which the absolute final aim of the world is realised in it, and the merely imp
licit mind achieves consciousness and self-consciousness. It is thus the revelat
ion and actuality of its essential and completed essence, whereby it becomes to
the outward eye a universal spirit a world-mind. As this development is in time
and in real existence, as it is a history, its several stages and steps are the
national minds, each of which, as single and endued by nature with a specific ch
aracter, is appointed to occupy only one grade, and accomplish one task in the w
hole deed.
The presupposition that history has an essential and actual end, from the princi
ples of which certain characteristic results logically flow, is called an a prio
ri view of it, and philosophy is reproached with a priori history-writing. On th
is point, and on history-writing in general, this note must go into further deta
il. That history, and above all universal history, is founded on an essential an
d actual aim, which actually is and will be realised in it the plan of Providenc
e; that, in short, there is Reason in history, must be decided on strictly philo
sophical ground, and thus shown to be essentially and in fact necessary. To pres
uppose such aim is blameworthy only when the assumed conceptions or thoughts are
arbitrarily adopted, and when a determined attempt is made to force events and
actions into conformity with such conceptions. For such a priori methods of trea
tment at the present day, however, those are chiefly to blame who profess to be
purely historical, and who at the same time take opportunity expressly to raise
their voice against the habit of philosophising, first in general, and then in h
istory. Philosophy is to them a troublesome neighbour: for it is an enemy of all
arbitrariness and hasty suggestions. Such a priori history-writing has sometime
s burst out in quarters where one would least have expected. it, especially on t
he philological side, and in Germany more than in France and England, where the
art of historical writing has gone through a process of purification to a firmer
and maturer character. Fictions, like that of a primitive age and its primitive
people, possessed from the first of the true knowledge of God and all the scien
ces of sacerdotal races - and, when we come to minutiae, of a Roman epic, suppos
ed to be the source of the legends which pass current for the history of ancient
Rome, etc., have taken the place of the pragmatising which detected psychologic
al motives and associations. There is a wide circle of persons who seem to consi
der it incumbent on a learned and ingenious historian drawing from the original
sources to concoct such baseless fancies, and form bold combinations of them fro
m a learned rubbish-heap of out-of-the-way and trivial facts, in defiance of the
best-accredited history.
Setting aside this subjective treatment of history, we find what is properly the
opposite view forbidding us to import into history an objective purpose. This i
s after all synonymous with what seems to be the still more legitimate demand th
at the historian should proceed with impartiality. This is a requirement often a
nd especially made on the history of philosophy: where it is insisted there shou
ld be no prepossession in favour of an idea or opinion, just as a judge should h
ave no special sympathy for one of the contending parties. In the case of the ju
dge it is at the same time assumed that he would administer his office ill and f
oolishly, if he had not an interest, and an exclusive interest in justice, if he
had not that for his aim and one sole aim, or if he declined to judge at all. T
his requirement which we may make upon the judge may be called partiality for ju
stice; and there is no difficulty here in distinguishing it from subjective part
iality. But in speaking of the impartiality required from the historian, this se
lf-satisfied insipid chatter lets the distinction disappear, and rejects both ki
nds of interest. It demands that the historian shall bring with him no definite
aim and view by which he may sort out, state, and criticise events, but shall na
rrate them exactly in the casual mode he finds them, in their incoherent and uni
ntelligent particularity. Now it is at least admitted that a history must have a
n object, e.g. Rome and its fortunes, or the Decline of the grandeur of the Roma
n empire. But little reflection is needed to discover that this is the presuppos
ed end which lies at the basis of the events themselves, as of the critical exam
ination into their comparative importance, i.e. their nearer or more remote rela
tion to it. A history without such aim and such criticism would be only an imbec
ile mental divagation, not as good as a fairy tale, for even children expect a m
otif in their stories, a purpose at least dimly surmisable with which events and
actions are put in relation.
In the existence of a nation the substantial aim is to be a state and preserve i
tself as such. A nation with no state formation (a mere nation), has, strictly s
peaking, no history like the nations which existed before the rise of states and
others which still exist in a condition of savagery. What happens to a nation,
and takes place within it, has its essential significance in relation to the sta
te: whereas the mere particularities of individuals are at the greatest distance
from the true object of history. It is true that the general spirit of an age l
eaves its imprint in the character of its celebrated individuals, and even their
particularities are but the very distant and the dim media through which the co
llective light still plays in fainter colours. Ay, even such singularities as a
petty occurrence, a word, express not a subjective particularity, but an age, a
nation, a civilization, in striking portraiture and brevity; and to select such
trifles shows the hand of a historian of genius. But, on the other hand, the mai
n mass of singularities is a futile and useless mass, by the painstaking accumul
ation of which the objects of real historical value are overwhelmed and obscured
. The essential characteristic of the spirit and its age is always contained in
the great events. It was a correct instinct which sought to banish such portrait
ure of the particular and the gleaning of insignificant traits, into the Novel (
as in the celebrated romances of Walter Scott, etc.). Where the picture presents
an unessential aspect of life it is certainly in good taste to conjoin it with
an unessential material, such as the romance tales from private events and subje
ctive passions. But to take the individual pettinesses of an age and of the pers
ons in it, and, in the interest of so-called truth, weave them into the picture
of general interests, is not only against taste and judgement, but violates the
principles of objective truth. The only truth for mind is the substantial and un
derlying essence, and not the trivialities of external existence and contingency
. It is therefore completely indifferent whether such insignificancesare duly vo
uched for by documents, or, as in the romance, invented to suit the character an
d ascribed to this or that name and circumstances.
The point of interest of Biography to say a word on that here appears to run dir
ectly counter to any universal scope and aim. But biography too has for its back
ground the historical world, with which the individual is intimately bound up: e
ven purely personal originality, the freak of humour, etc. suggests by allusion
that central reality and has its interest heightened by the suggestion. The mere
play of sentiment, on the contrary, has another ground and interest than histor
y.
The requirement of impartiality addressed to the history of philosophy (and also
, we may add, to the history of religion, first in general, and secondly, to chu
rch history) generally implies an even more decided bar against presupposition o
f any objective aim. As the State was already called the point to which in polit
ical history criticism had to refer all events, so here the 'Truth' must be the
object to which the several deeds and events of the spirit would have to be refe
rred. What is actually done is rather to make the contrary presupposition. Histo
ries with such an object as religion or philosophy are understood to have only s
ubjective aims for their theme, i.e. only opinions and mere ideas, not an essent
ial and realised object like the truth. And that with the mere excuse that there
is no truth. On this assumption the sympathy with truth appears as only a parti
ality of the usual sort, a partiality for opinion and mere ideas, which all alik
e have no stuff in them and are all treated as indifferent. In that way historic
al truth means but correctness an accurate report of externals, without critical
treatment save as regards this correctness admitting, in this case, only qualit
ative and quantitative judgements, no judgements of necessity or notion (cf. not
es to ¤¤ 172 and 175). But, really, if Rome or the German empire, etc. are an actual
and genuine object of political history, and the aim to which the phenomena are
to be related and by which they are to be judged; then in universal history the
genuine spirit, the consciousness of it, and of its essence, is even in a highe
r degree a true and actual object and theme, and an aim to which all other pheno
mena are essentially and actually subservient. Only therefore through their rela
tionship to it, i.e. through the judgement in which they are subsumed under it,
while it inheres in them, have they their value and even their existence. It is
the spirit which not merely broods over history as over the waters but lives in
it and is alone its principle of movement: and in the path of that spirit, liber
ty, i.e. a development determined by the notion of spirit, is the guiding princi
ple and only its notion its final aim, i.e. truth. For Spirit is consciousness.
Such a doctrine or in other words that Reason is in history will be partly at le
ast a plausible faith, partly it is a cognition of philosophy.
¤ 550
This liberation of mind, in which it proceeds to come to itself and to realise i
ts truth, and the business of so doing, is the supreme right, the absolute Law.
The self-consciousness of a particular nation is a vehicle for the contemporary
development of the collective spirit in its actual existence: it is the objectiv
e actuality in which that spirit for the time invests its will. Against this abs
olute will the other particular natural minds have no rights: that nation domina
tes the world: but yet the universal will steps onward over its property for the
time being, as over a special grade, and then delivers it over to its chance an
d doom.
¤ 551
To such extent as this business of actuality appears as an action, and therefore
as a work of individuals, these individuals, as regards the substantial issue o
f their labour, are instruments, and their subjectivity, which is what is peculi
ar to them, is the empty form of activity. What they personally have gained ther
efore through the individual share they took in the substantial business (prepar
ed and appointed independently of them) is a formal universality or subjective m
ental idea Fame, which is their reward.
¤ 552
The national spirit contains nature-necessity, and stands in external existence
(¤ 483): the ethical substance, potentially infinite, is actually a particular and
limited substance (¤¤ 549, 550); on its subjective side it labours under contingenc
y, in the shape of its unreflective natural usages, and its content is presented
to it as something existing in time and tied to an external nature and external
world. The spirit, however (which thinks in this moral organism) overrides and
absorbs within itself the finitude attaching to it as national spirit in its sta
te and the state's temporal interests, in the system of laws and usages. It rise
s to apprehend itself in its essentiality. Such apprehension, however, still has
the immanent limitedness of the national spirit. But the spirit which thinks in
universal history, stripping off at the same time those limitations of the seve
ral national minds and its own temporal restrictions, lays hold of its concrete
universality, and rises to apprehend the absolute mind, as the eternally actual
truth in which the contemplative reason enjoys freedom, while the necessity of n
ature and the necessity of history are only ministrant to its revelation and the
vessels of its honour.
The strictly technical aspects of the Mind's elevation to God have been spoken o
f in the Introduction to the Logic (cf. especially ¤ 51, note). As regards the sta
rting-point of that elevation, Kant has on the whole adopted the most correct, w
hen he treats belief in God as proceeding from the practical Reason. For that st
arting- point contains the material or content which constitutes the content of
the notion of God. But the true concrete material is neither Being (as in the co
smological) nor mere action by design (as in the physico-theological proof) but
the Mind, the absolute characteristic and function of which is effective reason,
i.e. the self-determining and self-realizing notion itself - Liberty. That the
elevation of subjective mind to God which these considerations give is by Kant a
gain deposed to a postulate - a mere 'ought' is the peculiar perversity, formerl
y noticed, of calmly and simply reinstating as true and valid that very antithes
is of finitude, the supersession of which into truth is the essence of that elev
ation.
As regards the 'mediation' which, as it has been already shown (¤ 192, cf. ¤ 204 not
e), that elevation to God really involves, the point specially calling for note
is the ' moment' of negation through which the essential content of the starting
-point is purged of its finitude so as to come forth free. This factor, abstract
in the formal treatment of logic, now gets its most concrete interpretation. Th
e finite, from which the start is now made, is the real ethical self- consciousn
ess. The negation through which that consciousness raises its spirit to its trut
h, is the purification, actually accomplished in the ethical world, whereby its
conscience is purged of subjective opinion and its will freed from the selfishne
ss of desire. Genuine religion and genuine religiosity only issue from the moral
life: religion is that life rising to think, i.e. becoming aware of the free un
iversality of its concrete essence. Only from the moral life and by the moral li
fe is the Idea of God seen to be free spirit: outside the ethical spirit therefo
re it is vain to seek for true religion and religiosity.
But as is the case with all speculative process this development of one thing ou
t of another means that what appears as sequel and derivative is rather the abso
lute prius of what it appears to be mediated by, and here in mind is also known
as its truth.
Here then is the place to go more deeply into the reciprocal relations between t
he state and religion, and in doing so to elucidate the terminology which is fam
iliar and current on the topic. It is evident and apparent from what has precede
d that moral life is the state retracted into its inner heart and substance, whi
le the state is the organisation and actualization of moral life; and that relig
ion is the very substance of the moral life itself and of the state. At this rat
e, the state rests on the ethical sentiment, and that on the religious. If relig
ion then is the consciousness of 'absolute' truth, then whatever is to rank as r
ight and justice, as law and duty, i.e. as true in the world of free will, can b
e so esteemed only as it is participant in that truth, as it is subsumed under i
t and is its sequel. But if the truly moral life is to be a sequel of religion,
then perforce religion must have the genuine content; i.e. the idea of God it kn
ows must be the true and real. The ethical life is the divine spirit as indwelli
ng in self-consciousness, as it is actually present in a nation and its individu
al members. This self-consciousness retiring upon itself out of its empirical ac
tuality and bringing its truth to consciousness has, in its faith and in its con
science, only what it has consciously secured in its spiritual actuality. The tw
o are inseparable: there cannot be two kinds of conscience, one religious and an
other ethical, differing from the former in body and value of truth. But in poin
t of form, i.e. for thought and knowledge (and religion and ethical life belong
to intelligence and are a thinking and knowing) the body of religious truth, as
the pure self-subsisting and therefore supreme truth, exercises a sanction over
the moral life which lies in empirical actuality. Thus for self-consciousness re
ligion is the 'basis' of moral life and of the state. It has been the monstrous
blunder of our times to try to look upon these inseparables as separable from on
e another, and even as mutually indifferent. The view taken of the relationship
of religion and the state has been that, whereas the state had an independent ex
istence of its own, springing from some force and power, religion was a later ad
dition, something desirable perhaps for strengthening the political bulwarks, bu
t purely subjective in individuals: or it may be, religion is treated as somethi
ng without effect on the moral life of the state, i.e. its reasonable law and co
nstitution which are based on a ground of their own.
As the inseparability of the two sides has been indicated, it may be worth while
to note the separation as it appears on the side of religion. It is primarily a
point of form: the attitude which self-consciousness takes to the body of truth
. So long as this body of truth is the very substance or indwelling spirit of se
lf-consciousness in its actuality, then self-consciousness in this content has t
he certainty of itself and is free. But if this present self-consciousness is la
cking, then there may be created, in point of form, a condition of spiritual sla
very, even though the implicit content of religion is absolute spirit. This grea
t difference (to cite a specific case) comes out within the Christian religion i
tself, even though here it is not the nature-element in which the idea of God is
embodied, and though nothing of the sort even enters as a factor into its centr
al dogma and sole theme of a God who is known in spirit and in truth. And yet in
Catholicism this spirit of all truth is in actuality set in rigid opposition to
the self-conscious spirit. And, first of all, God is in the 'host' presented to
religious adoration as an external thing. (In the Lutheran Church, on the contr
ary, the host as such is not at first consecrated, but in the moment of enjoymen
t, i.e. in the annihilation of its externality. and in the act of faith, i.e. in
the free self-certain spirit: only then is it consecrated and exalted to be pre
sent God.) From that first and supreme status of externalization flows every oth
er phase of externality of bondage, non-spirituality, and superstition. It leads
to a laity, receiving its knowledge of divine truth, as well as the direction o
f its will and conscience from without and from another order - which order agai
n does not get possession of that knowledge in a spiritual way only, but to that
end essentially requires an external consecration. It leads to the non-spiritua
l style of praying partly as mere moving of the lips, partly in the way that the
subject foregoes his right of directly addressing God, and prays others to pray
addressing his devotion to miracle- working images, even to bones, and expectin
g miracles from them. It leads, generally, to justification by external works, a
merit which is supposed to be gained by acts, and even to be capable of being t
ransferred to others. All this binds the spirit under an externalism by which th
e very meaning of spirit is perverted and misconceived at its source, and law an
d justice, morality and conscience, responsibility and duty are corrupted at the
ir root.
Along with this principle of spiritual bondage, and these applications of it in
the religious life, there can only go in the legislative and constitutional syst
em a legal and moral bondage, and a state of lawlessness and immorality in polit
ical life. Catholicism has been loudly praised and is still often praised logica
lly enough - as the one religion which secures the stability of governments. But
in reality this applies only to governments which are bound up with institution
s founded on the bondage of the spirit (of that spirit which should have legal a
nd moral liberty), i.e. with institutions that embody injustice and with a moral
ly corrupt and barbaric state of society. But these governments are not aware th
at in fanaticism they have a terrible power, which does not rise in hostility ag
ainst them, only so long as and only on condition that they remain sunk in the t
hraldom of injustice and immorality. But in mind there is a very different power
available against that externalism and dismemberment induced by a false religio
n. Mind collects itself into its inward free actuality. Philosophy awakes in the
spirit of governments and nations the wisdom to discern what is essentially and
actually right and reasonable in the real world. It was well to call these prod
ucts of thought, and in a special sense Philosophy, the wisdom of the world; for
thought makes the spirit's truth an actual present, leads it into the real worl
d, and thus liberates it in its actuality and in its own self.
Thus set free, the content of religion assumes quite another shape. So long as t
he form, i.e. our consciousness and subjectivity, lacked liberty, it followed ne
cessarily that self-consciousness was conceived as not immanent in the ethical p
rinciples which religion embodies, and these principles were set at such a dista
nce as to seem to have true being only as negative to actual self-consciousness.
In this unreality ethical content gets the name of Holiness. But once the divin
e spirit introduces itself into actuality, and actuality emancipates itself to s
pirit, then what in the world was a postulate of holiness is supplanted by the a
ctuality of moral life. Instead of the vow of chastity, marriage now ranks as th
e ethical relation; and, therefore, as the highest on this side of humanity stan
ds the family. Instead of the vow of poverty (muddled up into a contradiction of
assigning merit to whosoever gives away goods to the poor, i.e. whosoever enric
hes them) is the precept of action to acquire goods through one's own intelligen
ce and industry, of honesty in commercial dealing, and in the use of property in
short moral life in the socioeconomic sphere. And instead of the vow of obedien
ce, true religion sanctions obedience to the law and the legal arrangements of t
he state - an obedience which is itself the true freedom, because the state is a
self-possessed, self-realizing reason in short, moral life in the state. Thus,
and thus only, can law and morality exist. The precept of religion, 'Give to Cae
sar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's' is not enough: the question is to
settle what is Caesar's, what belongs to the secular authority: and it is suffi
ciently notorious that the secular no less than the ecclesiastical authority hav
e claimed almost everything as their own. The divine spirit must interpenetrate
the entire secular life: whereby wisdom is concrete within it, and it carries th
e terms of its own justification. But that concrete indwelling is only the afore
said ethical organisations. It is the morality of marriage as against the sancti
ty of a celibate order; the morality of economic and industrial action against t
he sanctity of poverty and its indolence; the morality of an obedience dedicated
to the law of the state as against the sanctity of an obedience from which law
and duty are absent and where conscience is enslaved. With the growing need for
law and morality and the sense of the spirit's essential liberty, there sets in
a conflict of spirit with the religion of unfreedom. It is no use to organise po
litical laws and arrangements on principles of equity and reason, so long as in
religion the principle of unfreedom is not abandoned. A free state and a slavish
religion are incompatible. It is silly to suppose that we may try to allot them
separate spheres, under the impression that their diverse natures will maintain
an attitude of tranquillity one to another and not break out in contradiction a
nd battle. Principles of civil freedom can be but abstract and superficial, and
political institutions deduced from them must be, if taken alone, untenable, so
long as those principles in their wisdom mistake religion so much as not to know
that the maxims of the reason in actuality have their last and supreme sanction
in the religious conscience in subsumption under the consciousness of 'absolute
' truth. Let us suppose even that, no matter how, a code of law should arise, so
to speak a priori, founded on principles of reason, but in contradiction with a
n established religion based on principles of spiritual unfreedom; still, as the
duty of carrying out the laws lies in the hands of individual members of the go
vernment, and of the various classes of the administrative personnel, it is vain
to delude ourselves with the abstract and empty assumption that the individuals
will act only according to the letter or meaning of the law, and not in the spi
rit of their religion where their inmost conscience and supreme obligation lies.
Opposed to what religion pronounces holy, the laws appear something made by hum
an hands: even though backed by penalties and externally introduced, they could
offer no lasting resistance to the contradictions and attacks of the religious s
pirit. Such laws, however sound their provisions may be, thus founder on the con
science, whose spirit is different from the spirit of the laws and refuses to sa
nction them. It is nothing but a modern folly to try to alter a corrupt moral or
ganisation by altering its political constitution and code of laws without chang
ing the religion, to make a revolution without having made a reformation, to sup
pose that a political constitution opposed to the old religion could live in pea
ce and harmony with it and its sanctities, and that stability could be procured
for the laws by external guarantees, e.g., so-called 'chambers', and the power g
iven them to fix the budget, etc. (cf. ¤ 544 note). At best it is only a temporary
expedient when it is obviously too great a task to descend into the depths of t
he religious spirit and to raise that same spirit to its truth - to seek to sepa
rate law and justice from religion. Those guarantees are but rotten bulwarks aga
inst the consciences of the persons charged with administering the laws among wh
ich laws these guarantees are included. It is indeed the height and profanity of
contradiction to seek to bind and subject to the secular code the religious con
science to which mere human law is a thing profane.
The perception had dawned upon Plato with great clearness of the gulf which in h
is day had commenced to divide the established religion and the political consti
tution, on one hand, from those deeper requirements which, on the other hand, we
re made upon religion and politics by liberty which had learnt to recognize its
inner life. Plato gets hold of the thought that a genuine constitution and a sou
nd political life have their deeper foundation on the Idea on the essentially an
d actually universal and genuine principles of eternal righteousness. Now to see
and ascertain what these are is certainly the function and the business of phil
osophy. It is from this point of view that Plato breaks out into the celebrated
or notorious passage where he makes Socrates emphatically state that philosophy
and political power must coincide, that the Idea must be regent, if the distress
of nations is to see its end. What Plato thus definitely set before his mind wa
s that the Idea - which implicitly indeed is the free self-determining thought -
could not get into consciousness save only in the form of a thought; that the s
ubstance of the thought could only be true when set forth as a universal, and as
such brought to consciousness under its most abstract form.
To compare the Platonic standpoint in all its definiteness with the point of vie
w from which the relationship of state and religion is here regarded, the notion
al differences on which everything turns must be recalled to mind. The first of
these is that in natural things their substance or genus is different from their
existence in which that substance is as subject: further that this subjective e
xistence of the genus is distinct from that which it gets, when specially set in
relief as genus, or, to put it simply, as the universal in a mental concept or
idea. This additional 'individuality' the soil on which the universal and underl
ying principle freely and expressly exists is the intellectual and thinking self
. In the case of natural things their truth and reality does not get the form of
universality and essentiality through themselves, and their 'individuality' is
not itself the form: the form is only found in subjective thinking, which in phi
losophy gives that universal truth and reality an existence of its own. In man's
case it is otherwise: his truth and reality is the free mind itself, and it com
es to existence in his self-consciousness. This absolute nucleus of man mind int
rinsically concrete is just this - to have the form (to have thinking) itself fo
r a content. To the height of the thinking consciousness of this principle Arist
otle ascended in his notion of the entelechy of thought, thus surmounting the Pl
atonic Idea (the genus, or essential being). But thought always and that on acco
unt of this very principle contains the immediate self-subsistence of subjectivi
ty no less than it contains universality; the genuine Idea of the intrinsically
concrete mind is just as essentially under the one of its terms (subjective cons
ciousness) as under the other (universality): and in the one as in the other it
is the same substantial content. Under the subjective form, however, fall feelin
g, intuition, pictorial representation; and it is in fact necessary that in poin
t of time the consciousness of the absolute Idea should be first reached and app
rehended in this form: in other words, it must exist in its immediate reality as
religion, earlier than it does as philosophy. Philosophy is a later development
from this basis (just as Greek philosophy itself is later than Greek religion),
and in fact reaches its completion by catching and comprehending in all its def
inite essentiality that principle of spirit which first manifests itself in reli
gion. But Greek philosophy could set itself up only in opposition to Greek relig
ion: the unity of thought and the substantiality of the Idea could take up none
but a hostile attitude to an imaginative polytheism, and to the gladsome and fri
volous humours of its poetic creations. The form in its infinite truth, the subj
ectivity of mind, broke forth at first only as a subjective free thinking, which
was not yet identical with the substantiality itself and thus this underlying p
rinciple was not yet apprehended as absolute mind. Thus religion might appear as
first purified only through philosophy through pure self-existent thought: but
the form pervading this underlying principle the form which philosophy attacked
was that creative imagination.
Political power, which is developed similarly, but earlier than philosophy, from
religion. exhibits the one-sidedness, which in the actual world may infect its
implicitly true Idea, as demoralization. Plato, in common with all his thinking
contemporaries, perceived this demoralization of democracy and the defectiveness
even of its principle; he set in relief accordingly the underlying principle of
the state, but could not work into his idea of it the infinite form of subjecti
vity, which still escaped his intelligence. His state is therefore, on its own s
howing, wanting in subjective liberty (¤ 503 note, ¤ 513, etc.). The truth which sho
uld be immanent in the state, should knit it together and control it, he, for th
ese reasons, got hold of only in the form of thought-out truth, of philosophy; a
nd hence he makes that utterance that 'so long as philosophers do not rule in th
e states, or those who are now called kings and rulers do not soundly and compre
hensively philosophize, so long neither the state nor the race of men can be lib
erated from evils so long will the idea of the political constitution fall short
of possibility and not see the light of the sun'. It was not vouchsafed to Plat
o to go on so far as to say that so long as true religion did not spring up in t
he world and hold away in political life, so long the genuine principle of the s
tate had not come into actuality. But so long too this principle could not emerg
e even in thought, nor could thought lay hold of the genuine idea of the state t
he idea of the substantial moral life, with which is identical the liberty of an
independent self-consciousness. Only in the principle of mind, which is aware o
f its own essence, is implicitly in absolute liberty, and has its actuality in t
he act of self-liberation, does the absolute possibility and necessity exist for
political power, religion, and the principles of philosophy coinciding in one,
and for accomplishing the reconciliation of actuality in general with the mind,
of the state with the religious conscience as well as with the philosophical con
sciousness. Self-realizing subjectivity is in this case absolutely identical wit
h substantial universality. Hence religion as such, and the state as such both a
s forms in which the principle exists each contain the absolute truth: so that t
he truth, in its philosophic phase, is after all only in one of its forms. But e
ven religion, as it grows and expands, lets other aspects of the Idea of humanit
y grow and expand also (¤¤ 566 ff.). As it left therefore behind, in its first immed
iate, and so also one-sided phase, Religion may, or rather must, appear in its e
xistence degraded to sensuous externality, and thus in the sequel become an infl
uence to oppress liberty of spirit and to deprave political life. Still the prin
ciple has in it the infinite 'elasticity' of the 'absolute' form', so as to over
come this depraving of the form-determination (and the content by these means),
and to bring about the reconciliation of the spirit in itself. Thus ultimately,
in the Protestant conscience the principles of the religious and of the ethical
conscience come to be one and the same: the free spirit learning to see itself i
n its reasonableness and truth. In the Protestant state, the constitution and th
e code, as well as their several applications, embody the principle and the deve
lopment of the moral life, which proceeds and can only proceed from the truth of
religion, when reinstated in its original principle and in that way as such fir
st become actual. The moral life of the state and the religious spirituality of
the state are thus reciprocal guarantees of strength.

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ABSOLUTE SPIRIT

From the Encyclopaedia of the Philosophical Sciences

Part III: The Philosophy of Spirit
¤ 453
The concept of the spirit has its reality in the spirit. If this reality is in c
ompleted identity with that concept as the knowledge of the absolute idea, then
the necessary aspect is that the implicitly free intelligence liberates itself f
or its concept, in order for it to be a shape worthy of it. The subjective and t
he objective spirit can therefore be seen as the path on which this side of real
ity or existence forms itself (¤ 304). Conversely, this path also has the signific
ance that the subjective spirit is seen as the first entity which exists in its
immediacy without the concept, grasps its essence and forms itself from there, a
nd thereby reaches its free identity with the concept, its absolute reality.
¤ 454
Since the subjective individuality in its free development is essentially a proc
ess that begins with immediate life, the highest identity which being has, and t
herefore observes all the determinate beings in the world as a nullity and entit
ies to be sacrificed, the ethical substance has the significance of absolute pow
er and the absolute soul, and contains the significance of the essence of nature
and of the spirit.
¤ 455
The diremption of this general and pure substance of the spirit is therefore the
judgment in itself and the knowledge for which it exists as such.
(a) The Religion of Art
¤ 456
The immediate shape of this knowledge is that of the intuition and representatio
n of the absolute spirit as the ideal.
¤ 457.
The significance of the ideal is the substantiality as the identical and concret
e essence of nature and of the spirit, a concrete essence which is called God. T
he proof that this significance is the absolute truth is the mediation by which
nature is suspended into the spirit, and the spirit suspends its subjectivity th
rough its activity into the absolute spirit, thereby placing itself as its final
ground in such a way that this mediation is in itself just as much the suspensi
on of the mediation, of the antithesis (¤ 72, 74, 105, and so on), and knows itsel
f as the absolute first principle.
¤ 458
As this consciousness of the absolutely first takes shape, its immediacy produce
s the factor of finitude in art, and is also the determinate shape of God for it
self at first as the abstract of an immediate existence, of an elementary or con
crete natural being, or of the opposite, pure thought.
¤ 459
The truth, however, of that immediate shape and its shapeless negativity, of the
here and now and of the beyond, is the concrete shape born from the spirit. In
this ideal the natural immediacy appears only as the sign of thought, liberated
from its contingency and transfigured through thought to express the idea, so th
at the shape shows it and it alone: the shape of beauty.
¤ 460
Insofar as beauty in general is the penetration of the intuition or of the image
by thought, and exemplary thought, it is something formal, and the content of t
hought, as well as the material which it uses for its imagination, can in the fi
rst place be of the most various types.
¤ 461.
Insofar, however, as the form has its true content, that penetration itself the
spiritual substance in its absolute significance (¤ 457), it is, however, for the
sake of the immediacy in which this knowledge is intuition or imagistic represen
tation, the shape, to a certain extent finite, as being is immediate and thereby
external material, the content is partly therefore only a particular spirit of
the people.
¤ 462
That this existence is a product of the subject, which grasps the idea and bring
s it to external presentation, is not because of its finitude; for the subject i
s only purely formal activity, and the work of art is only then an expression of
God when there is no sign of subjective particularity in it, and the indwelling
spirit of the people is conceived and born into the world unmixed and unspotted
by its contingency. The mediation, which has gone through the pain and the acti
vity of a subject and has taken shape, is immediately suspended. The work presen
ts the substance of the subject, and the labour pains are precisely this absolut
e manifestation and negativity of the subjective particularity.
¤ 463
Insofar, however, as the image of the God is at hand as immediate, thus the rela
tion of the others, driven by their self-subsisting essences in the act of worsh
ip through devotion and the act of lowering in thoughts, relinquishes their own
subjectivity, symbolically sacrifices their particular reality, and becomes cons
cious in the enthusiasm and in the enjoyment of their identity with the substanc
e. Thus the relation loses its external shape and, to the same extent, transfers
its subjectivity, which is inward in substance only as general knowledge, into
existence.
¤ 464
In world history, however, the absolute spirit suspends the finitude of its know
ing reality and the limited existence of its idea in and for itself into general
ity, as well as the form of the intuition, of the immediate knowledge and existe
nce, into self-mediating knowledge and an existence which is itself knowledge, a
nd passes into revelation.
(b) Revealed Religion ¤ 465
Absolute spirit at this level of the suspended immediacy of its shape, and its k
nowledge as well at the level of reflection, is, on the one hand, the general sp
irit of nature and of the spirit subsisting in and for itself; but on the other
hand, it exists for the representation. lie subjectivity of knowledge, because i
t is reflection, lends independence to the moments of its life, whose totality i
t essentially is, making them presuppositions of each other, and phenomena which
succeed each other; it makes a complex of events according to finite reflective
categories.
¤ 466
In this separation the reflection separates the form from the content, and in th
e form the different moments of the concept are separated into particular sphere
s or elements, in each of which the absolute content manifests itself.
¤ 467
(1) In the moment of generality, the sphere of pure thought or the abstract elem
ent of the essence, it is therefore the absolute spirit which is in the first pl
ace the presupposed principle, and as a substantial power in the reflective dete
rmination of causality is creator of heaven and earth. But in this eternal spher
e the spirit only generates itself as its son, whose generation or positing is e
qually, however, suspended and the eternal being of the concept; just as its det
ermination to be different from the general essence eternally suspends itself an
d, through this mediation of the self-suspending mediation, the first substance
is only concrete individuality is the spirit.
¤ 468
(2) In the moment of particularity, however, as judgment, in which individuality
in general is included or becomes itself again in the moment of reflection, it
is this concrete eternal essence which is presupposed. Its movement is the actua
l creation or disintegration of the eternal moment of mediation, of the only son
, who is divided into the independent antithesis. On the one hand, namely, are h
eaven and earth, elemental and concrete nature, and on the other hand, standing
in relation to such nature, the spirit, which therefore is finite. That spirit,
as the extreme of self-subsisting negativity, completes its independence until i
t becomes wickedness, becomes directly an extreme through its relation to an opp
osing nature and through its own naturalness thus posits it.
¤ 469
(3) In the moment of individuality as such, namely, of subjectivity and of the c
oncept itself in which the antithesis of general and particular has sunk to its
identical ground, the place of presupposition (a) is taken by the general substa
nce, as actualised out of its abstraction into an individual self-consciousness.
This individual is also as such identical with the essence, and thereby evil in
and for itself is suspended. Further, this immediate concreteness expires in th
e absolute pain of negativity, in which it, as concreteness, is identical with i
tself and thus, as absolute return from that negativity and as general unity of
the general and individual essentiality for itself has realised its being as the
idea of the spirit, eternal, but living and real.
¤ 470
(b) This totality, since it exists in the sphere of reflection, is the self-subs
isting totality or presupposition, and in opposition to this totality stands the
division and finite immediacy of individual subjectivity. For this subjectivity
the initial presupposition and its movement are at first an other and an object
of contemplation; the intuition of its self-subsisting truth, through which thi
s finite subject, on account of its immediate nature, at first determines itself
as nullity and evil. It is, therefore, according to the example of its truth, t
he movement to relinquish its immediate natural determinacy and its own will, an
d to unify itself with that example in the pain of negativity, in general abstra
ction. In this way the subject recognises itself as identical with the essence,
which (c) through this mediation brings about its own dwelling in self-conscious
ness, and is the real, general spirit.
¤ 471
The revelation of the absolute, whose life is presented in a cycle of concrete s
hapes of representation, follows from its separation into independent parts with
a temporal and external sequence, and in this last result it gathers itself as
the true and the real in the general, simple, and eternal spirit. In this form o
f truth, truth is the object of philosophy.
(c) Philosophy ¤ 472
Philosophy is the unity of art and religion, as the simple intuition and substan
tial production of art are elevated to self-conscious thought through the separa
tion into parts and the mediation of religion. In this element the self-consciou
s idea purifies itself just as much from its first immediacy as from the appeara
nce of the event, from the contingency, the externality, and the sequential natu
re which its content has in religion. This knowledge is thus the concept of art
and religion in which the diverse elements of the content are recognised as nece
ssary, and this necessity and immediacy are recognised as free.
¤ 473
This recognition of the necessity in the content of the absolute representation,
as well as of the necessity of both forms, on the one hand, immediate intuition
and its poetry, and on the other hand, the presupposed representation, the obje
ctive and external revelation, and the subjective retreat and inner identificati
on of faith with representation. This recognition of the content and the form an
d the liberation of these forms completes itself when philosophy in the end gras
ps its own concept, that is, looks back on its knowledge.
¤ 474
This concept of philosophy is the self-thinking idea, truth aware of itself (¤ 183
), or logic with the significance that it is generality preserved in concrete co
ntent. In this way science returns to its beginning, with logic as the result. T
he presupposition of its concept, or the immediacy of its beginning and the aspe
ct of its appearance at that moment, are suspended.
¤ 475
This initial appearance is formed by the syllogism, which has logic basically as
its starting point, with nature for the middle term and is linked ultimately to
spirit. Logic becomes nature, and nature becomes spirit. Nature, which stands b
etween the spirit and its essence, divides itself though not to the extremes of
finite abstraction. For the syllogism is in the idea and nature is essentially d
etermined as a transition point and negative moment. But the mediation of the co
ncept has the external form of transition, and science takes the form of being.
¤ 476
In the second syllogism this appearance is suspended, for the spirit is the medi
ating factor. This is a syllogism which is already the standpoint of the spirit
itself presupposes nature and joins it with logic. It is the syllogism of reflec
tion on the idea; science appears as subjective cognition.
¤ 477
These appearances are suspended in the idea of philosophy, which has self-knowin
g reason, the absolutely general, for its middle term a middle which divides its
elf into spirit and nature, with the former as its presupposition, and the latte
r as its general extreme. Thus immediate nature is only a posited entity, as spi
rit is in itself not a presupposition, but rather totality returning into itself
. In this way the middle term, the self-knowing concept, has as its reality prim
arily conceptual moments and exists in its determinacy as general knowledge, per
sisting immediately by itself.

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END