§ 48. Two Kinds of People
The certainty and unity of the scientific result, which, through the strong divergencies which exist in the thinking subject, and still more through the existence of the lie, almost fell victims to Scepticism, recover considerable strength through the influence of wisdom and the support of faith. Since, however, as soon as it performs its function in the domain of the spiritual sciences, faith passes again under the dominion of the subjective divergencies, it can indeed promote the certainty of the result in the conviction, but it proves, rather than a help, an obstacle in the way to the unity of this result. The degree of certainty of one's own conviction cannot be raised without causing the antithesis with the scientific result of others to become proportionately striking. This is true of every spiritual science, in so far as its object is psychic; but from the nature of the case this is most true of the science which has religion for the object of its investigation; because, here, the subjective-psychic must make a very important step, in order from one's own soul to reach the object of its worship.
And yet these darker spots in the orb of science would prove no obstacle in the way to the unity of its radiance, if these divergencies in the subject limited themselves to a relative difference. Since, as was seen at the beginning of our study, the subject of science is not the individual, but the general subject of human nature, the potentially higher might at length of itself draw the potentially lower up to and along with itself, and in spite of much resistance and hesitation bring the universal human consciousness to a clear insight, a firm conviction, and a certain knowledge. In every domain of the expression of human life the subjective powers are unequal; not only in that of science, but also in those of art, religion, the development of social life, and business. In the spiritual domain, i.e. as soon as the powers of the consciousness and of the will turn the scale, equality is no longer found. Here endless variety is the rule. But in this multiformity there operates a law, which makes a rule, and involuntarily causes the radically stronger and purer expressions to dominate the weaker. That which takes place in song, takes place in the entire spiritual domain: the stronger and purer voice strikes the keynote, and ends by getting the others in tune with it. In the domain of the sciences, also, experience shows that, after much resistance and trial, the man of stronger and purer thought prevails at length over the men of weaker and less pure thought, convinces them, and compels them to think as he thinks, or at least to yield to the result of his thinking. Many convictions are now the common property of the universal human consciousness, which once were only entertained by individual thinkers. And when we come into touch with the thinking consciousness of Buddhists, of the followers of Confusius, or of Mohammedans, we are in general so deeply conscious of our superiority, that it never occurs to us to ingratiate ourselves into their favor, but of itself and involuntarily, by our very contact with them, we make our conviction dominate them. When this does not succeed at once, this is exclusively because of their lesser susceptibility and backwardness; as soon, however, as they begin to develop and to approach maturity, they readily conform to us. According to the rule "du choc des opinions jaillit la veriti" i.e. "truth is formed from clashing opinions," these provisional and necessary divergencies might be tolerated with equanimity, in the firm conviction that from this multiplicity unity will spring, were only the character of these divergencies among men exclusively relative and matters of degree.
But this naturally all falls away when you encounter a difference of principle, and when you come to deal with two kinds of people, i.e. with those who part company because of a difference which does not find its origin within the circle of our human consciousness, but outside of it. And the Christian religion places before us just this supremely important fact. For it speaks of a regeneration (7raXtyy«wta), of a "being begotten anew" (aiwyew^o-t?), followed by an enlightening (</>&>rt0-/id?), which changes man in his very being; and that indeed by a change or transformation which is effected by a supernatural cause. The explanation of this fact belongs properly to Dogmatics. But since this fact exerts an absolutely dominating influence upon our view of science, it would be a culpable blindfolding of self if we passed it by in silence. This "regeneration " breaks humanity in two, and repeals the unity of the human consciousness. If this fact of "being begotten anew," coming in from without, establishes a radical change in the being of man, be it only potentially, and if this change exercises at the same time an influence upon his consciousness, then as far as it has or has not undergone this transformation, there is an abyss in the universal human consciousness across which no bridge can be laid. It is with this as with wild fruit trees, part of which you graft, while the rest you leave alone. From the moment of that grafting, if successful and the trees are properly pruned, the growth of the two kinds of trees is entirely different, and this difference is not merely relative and a matter of degree, but specific. It is not a better and tenderer growth in one tree producing a richer fruit, while the other tree thrives less prosperously, and consequently bears poorer fruit; but it is a difference in kind. However luxuriantly and abundantly the ungrafted tree may leaf and blossom, it will never bear the fruit which grows on the grafted tree. But however backward the grafted tree may be at first in its growth, the blossom which unfolds on its branches is fruit blossom. No tree grafts itself. The wild tree cannot change from its own kind into the kind of the grafted tree, unless a power which resides outside of the sphere of botany enters in and effects the renewal of the wild tree. This is no relative transition. A tree is not onetenth cultivated and nine-tenths wild, so that by degrees it may become entirely cultivated; it is simply grafted or not grafted, and the entire result of its future growth depends on this fundamental difference. And though from the nature of the case this figure does not escape the weak side which every metaphor has, it will nevertheless serve its purpose. It illustrates the idea, that if in the orchard of humanity a similar operation or grafting takes place, by which the character of the life-process of our human nature is potentially changed, a differentiation between man and man takes place which divides us into two kinds. And if the sublimate, which from our being arrays itself in our consciousness, may be compared to the blossom in which the tree develops its hidden beauty, then it follows that the consciousness of the grafted and the consciousness of the non-grafted humanity must be as unlike as to kind, as the blossom of the wild, and that of the true, vine.
But the difficulty which we here encounter is, that every one grants this fact of grafting of trees, while in the world of men the parallel fact is denied by all who have not experienced it. This would be the case also with the trees, if they could think and speak. Without a doubt the wild vine would maintain itself to be the true vine, and look down upon that which announces itself as the true vine .as the victim of imagination and presumption. The superiority of the cultivated branch would never be recognized by the wild branch; or, to quote the beautiful German words, the Wildling (weed) would ever claim to be Edelreis (noble plant). No, it is not strange that so far as they have not come into contact with this fact of palingenesis, thoughtful men should consider the assertion of it an illusion and a piece of fanaticism; and that rather than deal with it as fact, they should apply their powers to prove its inconceivableness. This would not be so, if by some tension of human power the palingenesis proceeded from the sphere of our human life; for then it would seem a thing to be desired, and all nobler efforts would be directed to it. But since palingenesis is effected by a power, the origin of which lies outside of our human reach, so that man is passive under it as a tree under grafting, the human mind is not quickened by it to action, and consequently must array itself in opposition to it. The dilemma is the more perplexing, since he who has been wrought upon by palingenesis can never convince of it him who has not been similarly wrought upon, because an action wrought upon us from without the human sphere, does not lend itself to analysis by our human consciousness; at least not so far as it concerns the common ground on which men with and without palingenesis can understand each other. They who are wrought upon by palingenesis can in no wise avoid, therefore, conveying the impression of being proud and of exalting themselves. The Edelreis everywhere offends the Wildling, not merely in that measure and sense in which a finely cultured, jesthetically developed person offends the uncouth parvenu; for with these the difference is a matter of degree, so that as a rule the parvenu envies the aristocrat, and so secretly recognizes his higher worth; but, and this is the fatality, the difference in hand is and always will be one of principle. The Wildling also grows and blooms, and as a rule its foliage is more luxuriant, while in its specific development the Edelreis is not seldom backward.
We speak none too emphatically, therefore, when we speak of two kinds of people. Both are human, but one is inwardly different from the other, and consequently feels a different content rising from his consciousness; thus they face the cosmos from different points of view, and are impelled by different impulses. And the fact that there are two kinds of people occasions of necessity the fact of two kinds of human life and consciousness of life, and of two kinds of science; for which reason the idea of the unity of science, taken in its absolute sense, implies the denial of the fact of palingenesis, and therefore from principle leads to the rejection of the Christian religion.
§ 49. Tivo Kinds of Science
By two kinds of science we do not mean that two radically different representations of the cosmos can be simultaneously entertained side by side, with equal right. Truth is one, and so far as you understand it to be the object reflected in our human consciousness, science also can only be one. Thus if you understand science to be the systematized result of your perception, observation and thought, the difference in the result of your investigation may be a matter of degree but cannot be radical. If the result of A is contrary to the result of B, one or both have strayed from the path of science, but in no case can the two results, simultaneously and with equal right, be true. But our speaking of two kinds of science does not mean this. What we mean is, that both parts of humanity, that which has been wrought upon by palingenesis and that which lacks it, feel the impulse to investigate the object, and, by doing this in a scientific way, to obtain a scientific systemization of that which exists. The effort and activity of both bear the same character; they are both impelled by the same purpose; both devote their strength to the same kind of labor; and this kind of labor is in each case called the prosecution of science. But however much they may be doing the same thing formally, their activities run in opposite directions, because they have different starting-points; and because of the difference in their nature they apply themselves differently to this work, and view things in a different way. Because they themselves are diferently constituted, they see a corresponding difference in the constitution of all things. They are not at work, therefore, on different parts of the same house, but each builds a house of his own. Not as if an existing plan, convention or deliberation here assigned the rule. This happens as little in one circle as in the other. Generation upon generation in all ages, in different lands, and among all classes of people, is at work on this house of science, without concert and without an architectural plan, and it is a mysterious power by which, from all this sporadic labor, a whole is perfected. Each one places his brick in the walls of this building, and always where it belongs, without himself knowing or planning it. But despite the absence of all architectural insight the building goes on, and the house is in process of erection, even though it may never be entirely completed. And both are doing it, they who have been wrought upon by palingenesis, as well as those who have remained unchanged. All this study, in the circle of the one as well as in that of the other, founds, builds and assists in the construction of a whole. But we emphatically assert that these two kinds of people devote their time and their strength to the erection of two different structures, each of which purposes to be a complete building of science. If, however, one of these two is asked, whether the building, on which he labors, will truly provide us what we need in the scientific realm, he will of course claim for himself the high and noble name of science, and withhold it from the other.
This cannot be otherwise, for if one acknowledged the other to be truly scientific, he would be obliged to adopt the other man's views. You cannot declare a thing to be scientific gold, and then reject it. You derive your right to reject a thing only from your conviction that that something is not true, while a conviction that it is true would compel you to accept it. These two streams of science, therefore, which run in separate river-beds, do not in the least destroy the principle of the unity of science. This cannot be done; it is absolutely inconceivable. We only affirm that formally both groups perform scientific labor, and that they recognize each other's scientific character, in the same way in which two armies facing each other are mutually able to appreciate military honor and military worth. But when they have arrived at their result they cannot conceal the fact that in many respects these results are contrary to each other, and are entirely different; and as far as this is the case, each group naturally contradicts whatever the other group asserts.
This would have revealed itself clearly and at once, at least in Christian lands, if from the beginning the development of each group had proceeded entirely within well-defined boundaries. But this was not the case, neither could it be. First, because there is a very broad realm of investigation in which the difference between the two groups exerts no influence. For in the present dispensation palingenesis works no change in the senses, nor in the plastic conception of visible things. The entire domain of the more primary observation, which limits itself to weights, measures and numbers, is common to both. The entire empiric investigation of the things that are perceptible to our senses (simple or reinforced) has nothing to do with the radical difference which separates the two groups. By this we do not mean, that the natural sciences as such and in their entirety, fall outside of this difference, but only that in these sciences the difference which separates the two groups exerts no influence on the beginnings of the investigation. Whether a thing weighs two milligrams or three, can be absolutely ascertained by every one that can weigh. If it be mistakenly supposed that the natural sciences are entirely exhausted in this first and lowest part of their investigation, the entirely unjust conclusion may be reached, that these sciences, as such, fall outside of the difference. But inaccurate as this would be, it would be equally unfair, for the sake of accentuating the difference, to deny the absolute character of perception by the senses. Any one who in the realm of visible things has observed and formulated something with entire accuracy, whatever it be, has rendered service to both groups. To the validity of these formulas, which makes them binding upon all and for all time, the natural sciences owe their reputation of certainty, and, since we are deeply interested practically in the dominion over matter, also their honor and overestimation. For the more accurate statement of our idea we cannot fail to remark that, however rich these formulas and the dominion over nature which they place at our disposal may be in their practical results, they stand, nevertheless, entirely at the foot of the ladder of scientific investigation, and are so little scientific in their character, that formally they are to be equated with the knowledge of the farmer, who has learned how land must be tilled, and how cattle may be bred to advantage. Observation in the laboratory is certainly much finer, and the labor of thought much more exhaustive, and the skill of invention much more worthy of admiration, but this is a distinction in degree; the empiric knowledge of the farmer and the empiric knowledge of our naturalist in principle are one. If, however, it is important to reduce to its just equality the significance of that which, in the results of naturalistic studies, is absolutely certain, it should be gratefully acknowledged that in the elementary parts of these studies there is a common realm, in which the difference between view- and starting-point does not enforce itself.
Not only in the natural, but in the spiritual sciences also, a common realm presents itself. The mixed psychicsomatic nature of man accounts for this. Consequently, the object of the spiritual sciences inclines also, to a certain extent, to express itself in the somatic. Only think of the logos, which, being psychic in nature, creates a body for itself in language. Hence in the spiritual sciences the investigation is partly comprised of the statement of outwardly observable facts. Such is the case in History, the skeleton of which, if we may so express it, consists entirely of events and facts, the accurate narration of which must rest upon the investigation of all sorts of palpable documents. It is the same with the study of Language, whose first task it is to determine sounds, words and forms in their constituent parts and historic development, from all manner of information and observation obtained by eye and ear. This is the case with nearly every spiritual science, in part even with psychology itself, which has its physiological side. To a certain extent, all these investigations are in line with the lower natural sciences. To examine archives, to unearth monuments, to decipher what at first seemed unintelligible and translate it into your own language; to catch forms of language from the mouth of a people and to trace those forms in their development; and in like manner to espy the relation among certain actions of our senses and the psychic reactions which follow, etc., are altogether activities which in a sense bear an objective character, and are but little dominated by the influence of what is individual in the investigating subject. This should not be granted too absolutely, and the determination whether an objective document is genuine or not, or whether the contents of it must be translated thus or so, is in many cases not susceptible to such an absolute decision. But provided the study of the objective side of the spiritual sciences does not behave itself unseemly and contents itself within its boundaries, it claims our joyful recognition, that here also a broad realm of study opens itself, the results of which are benefits to both groups of thinkers, and thus also to the two kinds of science.
This must be emphasized, because it is in the interest of science at large, that mutual benefit be derived by both circles from what is contributed to the general stock of science. What has been well done by one need not be done again by you. It is at the same time important that, though not hesitating to part company as soon as principle demands it, the two kinds of science shall be as long as possible conscious of the fact that, formally at least, both are at work at a common task. It is with reference to this that to the two already mentioned common realms a third one should be added, which is no less important. The formal process of thought has not been attacked by sin, and for this reason palingenesis works no change in this mental task.
There is but one logic, and not two. If this simply implied, that logic properly so called as a subdivision of the philosophical or psychological sciences, does not need to be studied in a twofold way, the benefit would be small; the more because this is true to a certain extent only, and because all manner of differences and antitheses present themselves at once in the methodological investigation. But the influence of the fact aforementioned extends much farther, and contributes in two ways important service in maintabling a certain mutual contact between tbe two kinds of science. In the first place, from this fact it follows that the accuracy of one another's demonstrations can be critically examined and verified, in so far at least as the result strictly depends upon the deduction made. By keeping a sharp watch upon each other, mutual service is rendered in the discovery of logical faults in each other's demonstrations, and thus in a formal way each will continually watch over the other. And, on the other hand, they may compel each other to justify their points of view over against one another.
Let not this last be misunderstood. If, as we remarked, palingenesis occasions one group of men to exist differently from the other, every effort to understand each other will be futile in those points of the investigation in which this difference comes into play; and it will be impossible to settle the difference of insight. No polemics between these two kinds of science, on details which do not concern the statement of an objectively observable fact, or the somatic side of the psychical sciences, or, finally, a logical fault in argumentation, can ever serve any purpose. This is the reason why, as soon as it has allowed itself to be inveigled into details, and has undertaken to deal with things that are not palpable phenomena or logical mistakes, Apologetics has always failed to reach results, and has weakened rather than strengthened the reasoner. But just because, so soon as the lines have diverged but a little the divergency cannot be bridged over, it is so much the more important that sharp and constant attention be fixed upon the junction where the two lines begin to diverge. For though it is well known beforehand that even at this point of intersection no agreement can be reached; for then no divergence would follow; yet at this point of intersection it can be explained to each other what it is that compels us, from this point of intersection, to draw our line as we do. If we neglect to do this, pride and self-conceit will come into play, and our only concession to our scientific opponent will be the mockery of a laugh. Because he does not walk in our footsteps we dispute not only the accuracy of his results, but also formally deny the scientific character of his work. And this is not right. Every tendency that wants to maintain itself as a scientific tendency, must at least give an account of the reason why, from this point of intersection, it moves in one and not in the other direction.
And though nothing be accomplished by this, beyond the confession of the reason why one refuses to follow the tendency of the other, even this is an infinite gain. On the one hand it prevents the self-sufficiency which avoids all investigation into the deepest grounds, and lives by the theory that "the Will stands in place of reason." Thus we feel ourselves bound, not only to continue our studies formally in a severely scientific way, but also to give ourselves an increasingly clear account of the good and virtuous right by which we maintain the position originally taken, and by which we formally labor as we do. And since among congenial spirits one is so ready to accept, as already well defined, what is still wanting in the construction, the two tendencies render this mutual service; viz. that they necessitate the continuance of the investigation into the very soil in which the foundation lies. But, on the other hand also, this practice of giving each other an account at the point of intersection effects this very great gain, that as scientists we do not simply walk independently side by side, but that we remain together in logical fellowship, and together pay our homage to the claim of science as such. This prevents the useless plying of polemics touching points of detail, which so readily gives rise to bitterness of feeling, and concentrates the heat of battle against those issues of our consciousness which determine the entire process of the life of science. However plainly and candidly we may speak thus of a twofold science, and however much we may l»e persuaded that the scientific investigation can be brought to a close in no single department by all scientists together, yea, cannot be continued in concert, as soon as palingenesis makes a division between the investigators; we are equally emphatic in our confession, which we do not make in spite of ourselves, but with gladness, that in almost every department there is some task that is common to all, and, what is almost of greater importance still, a clear account can be given of both starting-points.
If this explains why these two kinds of science have remained for the most part interlaced, there is still another and no less important cause, which has prevented their clearer separation. It is the slow process which must ensue before any activity can develop itself from what potentially is given in palingenesis. If palingenesis operated immediately from the centrum of our inner life to the outermost circumference of our being and consciousness, the antithesis between the science which lives by it and that which denies it, would be at once absolute in every subject. But such is not the case. The illustration of the grafting is still in point. The cultivated shoot which is grafted into the wild tree is at first very small and weak; the wild tree, on the other hand, after being grafted, will persist in putting forth its branches; and it is only by the careful pruning away of wild shoots that the vitality from the roots is compelled to withdraw its service from the wild trunk and transfer it to the cultivated shoot. Later on this progress is secured, till at length the cultivated shoot obtains the entire upper hand and the wild tree scarcely puts out another branch; but this takes sometimes seven or more years. You observe a similar phenomenon in palingenesis, even to such an extent that if the development begun upon earth were not destined to reach completion in a higher life, the sufficient reason of the entire fact could scarcely be conceived, especially not in those cases where this palingenesis does not come until later life. But even when in the strength of youth palingenesis leads to repentance (transformation of the consciousness), and to conversion (change in life-expression), the growth of the wild tree is by no means yet cut off, neither is the shoot of the cultivated branch at once completed.
This is never claimed in the circles that make profession of this palingenesis. It has been questioned among themselves whether the entire triumph of the new element is possible on this side of the grave (Perfectionists), but that in any case a period of transition and conflict must precede this completeness has been the experience and common confession of all. If we call to mind the facts that those people who as a sect proclaim this Perfectionism, are theologically almost without any development, and soon prove that they reach their singular conclusions by a legal Pelagian interpretation of sin and a mystical interpretation of virtue, while the theologians in the church of Rome who defend this position consider such an early completion a very rare exception, it follows, that as far as it concerns our subject this Perfectionism claims no consideration. These sectarian zealots have nothing to do with science, and those who have been canonized are too few in number to exert an influence upon the progress of scientific development. Actually, therefore, we here deal with a process of palingenesis which operates continually, but which does not lead to an immediate cessation of the preceding development, nor to a sufficiently powerful unfolding at once of the new development; and as a necessary result the scientific account, given in the consciousness, cannot at once effect a radical and a clearly conscious separation.
Several causes, moreover, have assisted the long continuance of this intimate relation. First the fundamental conceptions, which have been the starting-points of the two groups of scientists, were for many centuries governed altogether by Special Revelation. Not only those who shared the palingenesis, but also those who remained without it, for a long time started out from the existence of God, the creation of the world, the creation of man as sui generis, the fall, etc. A few might have expressed some doubt concerning one thing and another; a very few might have ventured to deny them; but for many centuries the common consciousness rested in these fixed conceptions.
Properly, then, one cannot say that any reaction took place before the Humanists; and the forming of a common opinion upon the basis of Pantheism and Naturalism has really only begun since the last century. Since, now, those who lived by palingenesis found these old representations to conform entirely to their own consciousness, it is natural that they were not on the alert to build a scientific house of their own, as long as general science also lived by premises which properly belonged to palingenesis. Now, however, all this has entirely changed. They who stand outside the palingenesis have perceived, with increasing clearness, that these primordial conceptions as premises belonged not to them but to their opponents, and in a comparatively short time they have placed an entirely different range of premises over against them. Creation has made room for Evolution, and with surprising rapidity vast multitudes have made this transition from creation to evolution, because, in fact, they never have believed in creation, or because they had, at least, never assimilated the world of thoughts which this word Creation embraced. As natural as it has been, therefore, that in the domain of science both circles have been one thus far, it is equally natural that the unity of this company should now be irreparably broken. He who in building upon the foundation of creation thinks that he builds the same wall as another who starts from evolution, reminds one of Sisyphus. No sooner has the stone been carried up than relentlessly it rolls back again.
A second cause in point, lies in the fact that palingenesis does not primarily impel to scientific labor. It stands too high for this, and is of too noble an origin. Let us be sober, and awake from the intoxication of those who have become drunk on the wine of science. If you except a small aristocracy, the impulse to the greater part of scientific study lies in the ambition to dominate the material and visible world; to satisfy a certain intellectual tendency of the mind: to secure a position in life; to make a name and to harvest honors; and to look down with a sense of superiority upon those who are less broadly developed. Mention only the name of Jesus Christ, and you perceive at once how this entire scientific interest must relinquish its claim to occupy the first place in our estimate of life. Jesus never wrote a Summa like Thomas Aquinas, nor a Kritik der reinen Vernunft like Kant, but even in the circles of the naturalists his holy name sounds high above the names of all these coryphaei of science.
There is thus something else to make a man great, and this lies outside of science in its concrete aDd technical sense. There is a human development and expression of life which does not operate within the domain of science, but which, nevertheless, stands much higher. There is an adoration and a self-abasement before God, a love and a self-denial before our fellow-men, a growth in what is pure and heroic and formative of character, which far excels all beauty of science. Bound as it is to the consciousness-forms of our present existence, it is highly improbable that science will be of profit to us in our eternal existence; but this we know, that as certainly as there is a spark of holy love aglow in our hearts, this spark cannot be extinguished, and the breath of eternity alone can kindle it into the brightest flame. And experience teaches that the new life which springs from palingenesis, is much more inclined to move in this nobler direction than to thirst after science. This may become a defect, and has often degenerated into such, and thus has resulted in a dislike or disdain for science. The history of Mysticism has its tales to relate, and Methodism comes in for its share. But as long as there is no disdain of science, but merely a choice of the nobler interest, it is but natural that the life of palingenesis should prefer to seek its greatness in that which exalts so highly the name of Jesus, and feels itself less attracted to the things which brought Kant and Darwin their world-wide fame. Add to this fact that for most people the life of science depends upon the possibility of obtaining a professorship or a lectureship, and that in Europe they who have these positions to dispose of are, as a rule, inclined to exclude the sons of palingenesis from such appointments, and you see at once how relatively small the number among them must have been who were able to devote themselves, with all the energy of their lives, to the study of the sciences. And thus their strength was too small and their numbers too few to assume a position of their own, and to prosecute science independently from their own point of view.
One more remark will bring to a close the explanation of this phenomenon. One may have a scientific mind, and be able to make important contributions to the scientific result, and yet not choose the most fundamental principles of life as the subject of his study. There is a broad field of detailstudy in which laurels can be won, without penetrating to the deep antitheses of the two world-views whose position over against each other becomes ever more and more clearly defined. In this class of studies success is won with less talent, with less power of thought, with less sacrifice of time and toil; one also works with greater certainty; more immediate results are attained; and more questions of an historical character are presented which can be solved within a more limited horizon. This accounts for the fact that of ten scientists, nine will prefer this class of studies. Theologians are the exception, but their position at the universities is uncommon. One tolerates in them what would not be tolerated in others, and a gulf between the theological and the other faculties is tacitly acquiesced in. If these faculties of theology were not an imperative necessity because of the churches, at most universities they would simply be abolished. With the reasonable exception of these, the ratio of one to nine, assumed above, between the men of detail-study and the men of the study of principles, is certainly a fair one; and thus when applied to the few sons of palingenesis who have devoted themselves to science and have been appointed to official positions, causes the number of the students of principles among them to be reduced to such a minimum, that an independent and a clearly defined attitude on their part has been fairly impossible.
Practically and academically the separation between these two kinds of science has thus far been made only in a few single points. The universities of Brussels and Louvain are examples of this. In Amsterdam and Freiburg, also, a life peculiar to itself has originated. And in America a certain division has begun. But these divisions bear too much a churchly or anti-churchly character, and for the greater "republic of letters" as a whole they are scarcely yet worthy of mention. Almost everywhere the two stems are still intertwined, and in almost every way the stem which grows from palingenesis is still altogether repressed and overshadowed by the stem of naturalism; naturalism being here taken as the expression of life, which, without palingenesis, flourishes as it originated. There was, indeed, a conservative period in university life, in which the old world-view still thought itself able, by an angry look or by persecution, to exorcise the coming storm; and a later period in which by all manner of half concessions and weak apologetics, it tried to repress the rise of the naturalistic tendency. But this Conservatism, which first tried compulsion and then persuasion, owed its origin least of all to palingenesis, and thus lacked a spiritual root. At present, therefore, it is rapidly passing away. Its apologetics lack force. It seeks so to comport itself that by the grace of Naturalism it may still be only tolerated; and it deems it no disgrace to skulk in a musty vault of the fortification in which once it bore command.
Neither the tardiness, however, of the establishment of this bifurcation of science, nor the futile effort of Conservatism to prolong its existence, can resist the continuous separation of these two kinds of science. The all-decisive question here is whether there are two points of departure. If this is not the case, then unity must be maintained by means of the stronger mastering the weaker; but if there are two points of departure, then the claim of two kinds of science in the indicated sense remains indisputably valid, entirely apart from the question whether both will succeed in developing themselves for any good result within a given time. This twofold point of departure is certainly given by palingenesis. This would not be true if the deepest foundations of our knowledge lay outside of us and not in us, or if the palingenesis operated outside of these principia of knowledge in the subject. Since, however, this is not the case, because, like sin, whose result it potentially destroys, palingenesis causes the subject to be different in his innermost self from what he was before; and because this disposition of the subject exercises an immediate influence upon scientific investigation and our scientific conviction; these two unlike magnitudes can have no like result, and from this difference between the two circles of subjects there follows of necessity difference between their science.
This bifurcation must extend as far as the influence of those subjective factors which palingenesis causes to be different in one than in the other. Hence all scientific research which has things seen only as object, or which is prosecuted simply by those subjective factors which have undergone no change, remains the same for both. Near the ground the tree of science is one for all. But no sooner has it reached a certain height, than two branches separate, in the same way as may be seen in a tree which is grafted on the right side, while on the left side there is allowed to grow a shoot from the wild root. In its lowest parts the tree is one, but at a given height it divides itself, and in this twofold development one branch grows side by side with the other. Which of these two is to be considered the wild development, is to be accounted as failing of its end and to be cut away, and which the truer development of the tree that shall bear fruit, cannot be decided by one for the other. The negative for the one determines here the positive for the other. This, however, is the same for both, and the choice of each is not governed by the results of discursive thought, but exclusively by the deepest impulse of the life-consciousness of each. If in that deepest impulse the one were like the other, the choice would be the same. That it is different, is simply because they are constitutionally different.
Meanwhile, it must not be concluded from this that in the circle of palingenesis scientific development must be uniform, in the sense that all, who in this circle devote themselves to science, must conform to a given model and arrive at harmonious results. This representation is not infrequently made by the other side. Naturalistic science decorates itself with corn-flower and garden-rue, as symbols of the free character which it boasts, while the science of those who accept palingenesis is represented as festaoned with autumn-lea ves(feuillemorte), and as incapable of progress worthy of the name within the narrow limits to which it is confined. This entire representation, however, is but a play of the imagination, and in both circles a real scientific development takes place, which unfolds the beauty of truth only in the harmony of multiformity.
A fuller explanation may be considered important.
In the abstract every one concedes that the subjective assimilation of the truth concerning the object cannot be the same with all, because the investigating individuals are not as alike as drops of water, but as unlike as blades of grass and leaves on a tree. That a science should be free from the influence of the subjective factor is inconceivable, hence with the unlikeness of the individuals the influence of this factor must appear.
For this reason science in its absolute sense is the property of no single individual. The universal human consciousness in its richest unfoldings is and ever will be the subject of science, and individuals in their circle and age can never be anything but sharers of a small division of science in a given form and seen in a given light. The difference among these individuals is accordingly both a matter of degree and of kind. A matter of degree in so far as energy in investigation, critical perspicuity and power of thought are stronger in one than in the other. But a matter of kind also, in so far as temperament, personal inclination, position in life and the favorableness or unfavorableness of circumstances cause each individual investigator to become one-sided, and make him find his strength in that one-sidedness which renders the supplementation and the criticism of others a necessity. This accounts for the varieties of theories and schools which antagonize, and by this antagonism bless, each other. This is the reason why in each age and circle certain views prevail, and strike the keynote; and that all manner of personal influences are restricted by the power of public opinion. This piecemeal labor of every description would never advance science, if the object of science itself did not exist organically, and the investigating individuals in every land and age were not involuntarily and often unconsciously organically related. To annul this mutually supplementary, corrective and yet organically connected multiformity, would be the death of science. Not the military mechanism of the army, but the organic multiformity of social life is the type to which, in order to flourish, science must correspond.
Such being the case with naturalistic science, it would be different with the science which flourishes upon the root of palingenesis, only if palingenesis annulled the cause of this subjective pluriformity. This, however, is not at all the case. Palingenesis does not destroy the difference in degree between individuals. It does not alter the differences of temperament, of personal disposition, of position in life, nor of concomitant circumstances which dominate the investigation. Neither does palingenesis take away the differences born from the distinction of national character and the process of time. Palingenesis may bring it about, that these differences assume another character, that in some forms they do not appear, and that they do appear in other forms unknown outside of it; but in every case with palingenesis also subjective divergence continues to exist in every way. The result indeed shows that in this domain, as well as in that of naturalistic science, different schools have formed themselves, and that even in the days of the Middle Ages there never was a question of uniformity. However much Rome has insisted upon uniformity, it has never been able to establish it, and in the end she has adopted the system of giving to each expression of the multiformity a place in the organic harmony of her great hierarchy.
No doubt the antitheses sometimes assume an entirely different character in the domain of palingenesis than in the domain of naturalistic science. No atheistic, materialistic, nor pessimistic system can nourish in its soil. Its schools, therefore, bear different names and divide themselves after different standards. But as after the entrance of the Christian religion into the world, the schools of Alexandria, of Antioch, of North Africa, of Constantinople, and of Rome, each bore a type of its own, so it has remained through all the ages, is now, and shall be to the end. Friction, fermentation and conflict are the hall-mark of every expression of life on higher ground in this present dispensation, and from this the science of the palingenesis also effects no escape.
Three objections may here be raised: (1) that this science is bound to the content of revelation; (2) that its liberty is impeded by the ecclesiastical placet; and (3) that its result is determined in advance. A brief remark is in place on each of these three objections.
Since the investigating subject is changed by palingenesis from what he was before, he will undoubtedly assume a different attitude towards the Revelation of God. He will no longer try, as in his naturalistic period, to denounce that Revelation as a vexatious hindrance, but will feel the need of it, will live in it, and profit by it. He will certainly thus reckon with that Revelation, but in no other way than that in which the naturalist is bound to and must reckon with the existing cosmos. This, however, would destroy the scientific character of his knowledge, only if this Revelation consisted of nothing but a list of conclusions, and if he were not allowed subjectively to assimilate these conclusions. This, however, is by no means the case. The Revelation offered us in the Word of God gives us gold in the mine, and imposes upon us the obligation of mining it; and what is mined is of such a nature, that the subject as soon as he has been changed by palingenesis, assimilates it in his own way, and brings it in relation to the deepest impulse and entire inner disposition of his being. That this assimilation does not take place by means of the understanding only, can raise no objection, since it has been shown that naturalistic science also can make no advances without faith. Moreover, naturalistic science, as well as that of palingenesis, has its bounds, beyond which it cannot go; its antinomies, which it cannot reconcile; and its mysteries, after which the interrogation point remains standing. If now knowledge is brought us by Revelation from across the boundaries, a reconciliation is offered for many antinomies, and many a new mystery is unveiled, it pleads in no respect against the scientific character of our science, that our reason is unable to analyze this new material and to place it in organic connection with the rest. It is not strange, therefore, that with reference to this Revelation, faith unfolds a broader activity than in the investigation of the cosmos, and harmonizes entirely with the aim and character of this Revelation: viz. to be of service first to the practical religious life, even of the simplest-minded people, and after that to science. But rather than protest against this, science ought to recognize the fact that she is called, (1) to investigate the nature and essence of this Revelation; (2) to analyze the material, which has been derived from it; and (3) to discover and indicate the way in which this material, as well as Revelation itself, enters into relation with the psychical life of man. The lack of unanimity on any of these three points, and that in all ages these three points, and everything connected with them, have been so differently judged, is readily explained. The tendencies of mysticism and pietism, of realism and spiritualism, of transcendentalism and immanence, of monism and dualism, of the organic and individualism have ever intruded themselves into these questions, and have crossed again those blended types, which are known by the name of Romanism, Lutheranism and Calvinism. Tendencies and types these, in which shortsightedness beholds merely ecclesiastical variegations, but which to the man of broader view, extend themselves across the entire domain of human life, science included. And though the science of the palingenesis may succeed as little as naturalistic science in scientifically bringing to a successful end the conflict between these different schools and tendencies on its own ground, it is still the task of science also within the realm of palingenesis constantly to test the assertions of these several tendencies, for the sake of enhancing the clearness of their self-consciousness.
This brings us of itself to the second objection: that the liberty of this science is impeded by the ecclesiastical placet. This also must be denied. There is no instituted church (ecclesia instituta) conceivable without a placet; and the position of an investigator, whose results antagonize this ecclesiastical placet, is thereby rendered false and untenable; but this does not impede the prosecution of science in the least. In the first place the church, as instituted church, never passes sentence upon that which has no bearing upon "saving faith." Even the church of Rome, which goes farthest in this respect, leaves the greater part of the object free. Again, this church placet is itself the result of a spiritual conflict, which was developed by contradictions, and in which the controversy was scientific on both sides. Hence it is every man's duty and calling constantly to test by scientific methods the grounds advanced from either side. And if, in the third place, an investigator becomes convinced that the placet of the church is an unjust inference from Revelation, he must try to prove this to his church, and if she will not allow him this privilege, he must leave her. This would not be possible if the church were a scientific institute, but no instituted church advances this claim. Hence in the realm of palingenesis one remains a man of science, even though he may lose his harmony with the church of his birth; and it is not science, but honesty and the sense of morality, which in such a case compels a man to break with his church. This, however, occurs but rarely, partly because the churches in general allow considerable latitude; partly because a false position does not seem untenable to many; but more especially, because the churchly types are not arbitrarily chosen, but of necessity have risen from the constellation of life. Since the scientific investigator, who is connected with such a church, stands for the most part under those same constellations, it is very natural that in most cases he will not come into any such conflict, but will arrive at the same conclusions as his church. Then, however, there is no compulsion; no bonds are employed; but the agreement is unconstrained and necessary. The danger would be more serious, if the whole church in the earth had only one form alike for all parts of the world, so that the placet would be everywhere the same; and indeed the existence of this danger of the loss of liberty could not entirely be denied during the Middle Ages, nor can it be denied to-day in those countries which are entirely uniform religiously. But since in the instituted church this unity is broken, so that now there are ten or more forms of church organizations, in which almost every possible type has come to an organization of its own, it is almost inconceivable that in the domain of palingenesis a scientific investigation would ever lead to a result which would not accord with the placet of one of these churches on the contested points. And if, in case a conflict cannot be avoided, one is impelled by love of truth and by a sense of honor to change his relations from one church to the other, it is as little of a hindrance to the liberty of the spiritual sciences, as when one is compelled by the results of investigation on political grounds to seek refuge from Russia in freer England or America.
Finally, concerning the last objection, — that in the domain of palingenesis there can be no science, because its results are predetermined, — let it be said that this is partly inaccurate, and that as far as it is accurate, it applies equally to naturalistic science. As it stands, this proposition is partly untrue. In general one understands by it, that in the ecclesiastical Creed or in the Holy Scriptures the results are already given. If a conflict arises between the result of our investigation and our ecclesiastical creed, it may render our ecclesiastical position untenable, but it cannot affect the maintenance of our scientific results. And as for the Holy Bible, it is ever the province and duty of science to verify what is inferred from it. Yet after the subtraction of these two factors, it is still entirely true that in the abstract the results of our investigation are beforehand certain, and that, if we reach other results, our former results are not valid and our investigation is faulty. This, however, is common both to the science of palingenesis and to naturalistic science. The actual nature of the cosmos conditions the results of all investigation, and so far as there is question of knowledge which we obtain by thinking, our thinking can never be aught than the o/ifer-thinking of what has been before thought by the Creator of all relations; even to such an extent that all our thinking, to the extent that it aims to be and is original, can never be anything but pure hallucination. Hence it is entirely true, that in the domain of palingenesis all results of investigation are bound to the nature of palingenesis, and determined by the real constitution of the spiritual world with which it brings us into relation; it is also true, that that which has been well investigated will prove to agree with what has been revealed to us in an accurate way from this spiritual world; nor may it be denied that in this realm also, all our thinking can only be the after-thinking of the thoughts of God; but it has all this in common with the other science, and all this is inherent in the nature of science. If the objection be raised that in the prosecution of science as directed by palingenesis, it is a matter of pre-assumption that there is a God, that a creation took place, that sin reigns, etc., we grant this readily, but in the same sense in which it is pre-assumed in all science that there is a human being, that that human being thinks, that it is possible for this human being to think mistakenly, etc., etc. He to whom these last-named things are not presuppositions, will not so much as put his hand to the plough in the field of science; and such is the case with him who does not know, with greater certainty than he knows his own existence, that God is his Creator, entirely apart from palingenesis. Facts such as are here named, — that there is a God, that a creation took place, that sin exists, etc., — can never be established by scientific investigation; nor has this ever been attempted but some acuter mind was at hand to convict its predecessor of error. Only let it be remembered, that in this section we do by no means refer to Theology simply, nor even especially. Science, as here considered, is science which has the entirety of things as its object; and only when we come to Theology may the special questions be answered, to which the entirely peculiar character of this holy science gives occasion.
§ 50. The Process of Science
Our proposition that there are two kinds of science is, from the nature of the case, merely the accommodation to a linguistic usage. The two sciences must never be coordinated with each other. In fact, no one can be convinced that there is more than one science, and that which announces itself as science by the side of, or in opposition to, this can never be acknowledged as such in the absolute sense. As soon as the thinker of palingenesis has come to that point in the road where the thinker of naturalism parts company with him, the latter's science is no longer anything to the former but "science falsely so called." Similarly the naturalistic thinker is bound to contest the name of science for that which the student of the "wisdom of God" derives from his premises. That which lies outside of the realm of these different premises is common to both, but that which is governed, directly or indirectly, by these premises comes to stand entirely differently to the one from what it does to the other. Always in this sense, of course, that only one is right and in touch with actual reality, but is unable to convince the other of wrong. It will once be decided, but not until the final consummation of all things. For though it must be granted, that in what is called the moral and social "Banquerott der Wissenschaft," even now a test is often put in part to the twofold problem; and though it is equally clear that every investigator will come to know this decision at his death: yet this does not change the fact that, of necessity, the two kinds of science continue to spin their two threads, as long as the antithesis is maintained betwi-en naturalism and palingenesis; and it is this very antithesis which the parousia will bring to an end, or — this end will never come.
Hence formal recognition only is possible from either side. The grateful acceptance of those results of investigation which lie outside of the point in question, is no recognition, but is merely a reaping of harvests from common fields. So far, on the other hand, as the antithesis between our human personality, as it manifests itself in sinful nature and is changed by palingenesis, governs the investigation and demonstration, we stand exclusively opposed to one another, and one must call falsehood what the other calls truth. Formally, one can concede, as we do without reservation, that from the view-point of the opponent, the scientific impulse could not lead to any other prosecution of science, even with the most honest intention; so that, though his results must be rejected, his formal labor and the honesty of his intention must claim our appreciation. That this appreciation is mostly withheld from us, is chiefly explained from the fact that, from the view-point of palingenesis, one can readily imagine himself at the viewpoint of unregenerated nature, while he who considers fallen nature normal, cannot even conceive the possibility of a palingenesis. For which reason, every scientific effort that goes out from the principle of palingenesis is either explained as fanaticism or is attributed to motives of ambition and selfishness.
Hence the urgent necessity to combat the false representation that that science which lives from the principle of palingenesis lacks all organic process, and consists merely in the schematic application of dogmas to the several problems that present themselves. This representation is antagonistic to the very conception of science, and is contradicted by experience. Very marked differences of insight prevail among the scholars of the science which operates from the principle of palingenesis, as well as among the others, and many institutions and schools form themselves. There is, therefore, no organic, multiform process of science among naturalists and a schematic, barren monotony with the men of palingenesis; but the calling of science to strive after an objective unity of result born from multiformity, in the face of all the disturbance of subjectivity, is common to both.
To both the general subject of science is, and always will be, the human mind at large and not the ego of the individual investigator. The rule is also common to both, that the human mind does not operate except through the subject of individual investigators, and that these, according to their differences of disposition, of age, and habits of life, can severally bring in but a very small and limited, a very subjectively tinted and one-sidedly represented, contribution to the final harvest of science. This many-sided variety gives rise to divers antitheses and contradictory representations, which for a time establish themselves in the institutions and schools, which are in process of time superseded by other antitheses, and from which again new institutions and schools are born. Thus there is continual friction and constant fermentation, and under it all goes on the process of an entirely free development, which is in no wise bound except by its point of departure, whether in unregenerate or in regenerate human nature. Let no one think, therefore, that Christian science, if we may so call the science which takes palingenesis as its point of departure, will all at once lead its investigators to entirely like and harmonious results. This is impossible, because with the regenerate also, the differences of subjective disposition, of manner of life, and of the age in which one lives, remain the same; and because Christian science would be no science, if it did not go through a process by which it advanced from less to more, and if it were not free in its investigation, with the exception of being bound by its point of departure. That which the prosecutor of Christian science takes as his point of departure is to him as little a result of science as to the naturalist; but he, as well as the naturalist, must obtain his results of science by investigation and demonstration.
Only let it be remembered, that not every subjective representation which announces itself as scientific is a link in the process of the development of science. The subjective element certainly bears on one side a necessary character, but also one which, all too often, is merely accidental or even sinful. In the spirit of humanity is a multiformity from which, for the sake of the full harmony, no single element can be spared; but there is also a false subjectivism which, instead of causing single tones to vibrate for the sake of the full accord, disturbs the accord by discord. To overcome this false subjectivism, and to silence these discords, is by no means the least important part of the task of science. However much this false subjectivism may exert itself in the domain of Christian science, as well as in that of naturalistic science, yet we may assert that with Christian science this parasite does not reach an equal development of strength. Palingenesis takes away from the human spirit much on which otherwise this parasite feeds, and the enlightening, which develops itself from regeneration, applies a saving bridle to this false subjectivism. But this parasite will never be wanting from the domain of Christian science, simply because palingenesis does not absolutely remove the after-workings of unregenerated nature. Hence it is also the calling of Christian science to resist this false subjectivism, but only by scientific combat.
As far, on the other hand, as this subjective element is of necessity connected with the multiformity of all human life, the differences born from this will reveal themselves in Christian science more strongly rather than more weakly, because palingenesis allows these subjective differences to fully assert themselves, and does not, like naturalism, kill them. From the earliest ages of the Christian religion, therefore, these antitheses in the domain of Christian science, and the tendencies born from them, have ever assumed a much firmer and more concrete form, especially where they ran parallel with the ecclesiastical distinctions. But in the realm of Christian science it will never do for these several tendencies to point to the ecclesiastical basis of operation, as the source from which they obtained their greater permanency. Every tendency is bound scientifically to defend its assertions in the face of those of other tendencies. One may even say that this scientific labor maintains the spiritual communion between those who are ecclesiastically separated and estranged from each other. And if this is objected to by the statement that the prosecutors of this science often assume the position over against one another, that they only possess truth in its absolute form, the threefold remark is in place: First, that in their realm the students of naturalistic science often do the same thing; that with them also one school often stands over against the other with the pretence of publishing absolute truth. Secondly, that we must distinguish between what the student of Christian science professes as a church-member, and what he offers as the result of his scientific investigation. But, in the third place also, that idealism in science demands that every man of conviction shall firmly believe that, provided their development be normal, every other investigator must reach the same result as he. He who shrinks from this cannot affirm that he holds the result of his own investigation as true; he becomes a sceptic. He who in his own conception has not stepped out from his subjectivity in order to grasp the eternally true, has no conviction. And though it be entirely true that history plainly teaches, that the ripest and noblest conviction has never escaped the one-sidedness of one's own subjectivity, the inextinguishable impulse of our human nature never denies itself, but sees truth in that which it has grasped for itself as truth.
Hence the result we reach is, that the effort which reveals itself in our nature to obtain a scientific knowledge of the cosmos by investigation and demonstration, is ever bound to the premises in our nature from which this effort starts out. That for this reason this effort leads to a common practice of science, as far as these premises remain equal, but must divide itself as soon as the fork is reached where the change effected in these premises b}- palingenesis begins to influence the investigation. That for this part of the investigation, therefore, two kinds of scientific study run parallel, one which is, and one which is not, governed by the fact of palingenesis. That they who study science under the influence of palingenesis, as well as they who leave it out of account, can only hold for true what rests on their own premises, and thus can appreciate each other's study only in a formal manner. That with Christian, as well as with naturalistic science, that only stands scientifically sure which, going out from its own premises, each has obtained as the result of scientific research. That consequently, in both studies of science, all sorts of antitheses, tendencies, and schools will reveal themselves, and that by this process alone science on both sides advances. And finally, that because the influence of the subjective element, occasioned by a difference of disposition, manner of life, spiritual tendency, and age, makes itself felt with both, every investigator deems his own result of science true in the broadest sense; thereby going out from the conviction that, provided he carries on his investigation well, every normal investigator will attain a like result with himself.
§ 51. Both Sciences Universal
The proposition, that in virtue of the fact of palingenesis a science develops itself by the side of the naturalistic, which, though formally allied to it, is differently disposed, and therefore different in its conclusions, and stands over against it as Christian science, must not be understood in a specifically theological, but in an absolutely universal sense. The difference between the two is not merely apparent in theological science, but in all the sciences, in so far as the fact of palingenesis governs the whole subject in all investigations, and hence also, the result of all these investigations as far as their data are not absolutely material. To support this proposition, however, two things must still be shown: first, that in both cases science is taken in the sense of universal-human validity; and, secondly, that palingenesis is not merely a subjective psychical, but a universal phenomenon, which involves both the investigating subject and the cosmos. Inasmuch, however, as we are writing a theological encyclopedia, we do not proceed here to the exposition of this. but reserve it for treatment under the development of the conception of Theology. At this point, therefore, a simple suggestion suffices. Concerning the first, the universally valid character is inseparable from all science; not in the sense that every individual agrees with you, but that the subject of your science is, and ever will be, the universal human consciousness. Well, then, the palingenesis, which does not operate within single persons atomistically, but organically upon our race, will produce this result: that the tree of humanity, our race, humanity as a whole, and thus also the universal human consciousness, shall be glorified and sanctified in the "body of Christ." He who remains outside of this till the end, falls away from humanity. Up to the time of this final solution, however, neither the naturalistic nor the Christian science have any universally compulsive character outside of their own sphere. We encounter one another in open conflict, and a universally compulsory science, that shall be compulsory upon all men, is inconceivable. And concerning the second point, let the provisional remark suffice, that there is not merely a palingenesis of the human soul, but also a palingenesis of the body and of the cosmos. This accounts for the central character of the Resurrection of Christ, and for the far-reaching significance of the restoration of the cosmos, which in Matthew xix. 28 is indicated by this very word of palingenesis.