Chapter V

§ 54. Is there a Place for Theology in the Organism of

Science?

The raising of this question intends no coquetry whatever with much-boasted "science." The theologian who, depressed by the small measure of respect cherished at present by public opinion for theological study, seeks favor with public opinion by loudly proclaiming that what he studies is science too, forfeits thereby his right to the honorable name of theologian. Suppose it were demonstrated that Theology is no science, but that, like the study of music, it is called to enrich our spiritual life, and the consciousness of that life, in an entirely different way, what would this detract from its importance? Does Mozart rank lower than Edison, because he did not work enchantments, like Edison, with the data of the exact sciences? The oft-repeated attempt to exclude Theology from the company of the sciences, and to coordinate it, as something mystical, rather with the world of sounds, was in itself entirely praiseworthy, and has commanded more respect from public opinion in general than the scholastic distinctions. If thus it should be shown that Theology has no place in the organism of science, it would not lower it in the least, even as, on the other hand, Theology would gain no merit whatever from the fact (if it be proved) that it has its rank among the sciences. In no case may Theology begin with renouncing its own self-respect. And those theologians who are evidently guilty of this, and who, being more or less ashamed of Theology, have tried, by borrowing the scientific brevet, to put it forth in new forms, have been punished for their cowardice. For the non-theological science has compelled them to cut out the heart of Theology, and to transform it into a department of study which shall fit into the framework of naturalistic science. Hence we definitely declare that our defence of the scientific character of Theology has nothing in common with this questionable effort. No Calvinist takes part in the renunciation of our character as theologians. And now to the point.

When treating of the historical development of the faculties it was shown that the general organism of science allows itself to be analyzed into its parts along plain and clearly discernible lines. Thinking man distinguishes in himself first between that which relates to his inner or psychical, and outward or somatical, existence. He distinguishes in the second place between his own personal existence and his social life with others, as far as this is not governed by the personal existence of the individuals. And in the third place he distinguishes between human life and the life of nature. This division comes of itself, is unsought, sees itself justified by the history of the faculties, and is in entire agreement with the needs of practical life. Now the question is whether, along with these four, there remains yet a fifth independent part or organ in the organism of science. And the answer lies at hand, that a final distinction still remains, even the distinction between man and his O-od. Thus in the complete object of science we have four antitheses and five independent parts: (1) God and his creation;

(2) in that creation the rest of creation and man; (3) in man first the distinction between his material and spiritual existence, and, again, (4) the antithesis between unity and multiplicity. Or, if you please, five independent and yet organically connected objects present themselves to thinking man, viz.: (1) his God, (2) his psychical existence,

(3) his somatical existence, (4) his existence as a member of humanity, and (5) nature outside of man. This division corresponds fully to the Theological faculty (object: God), the Philological (the human soul, ^xv^i the Medical (the human body, aa>fia), the Juridical (the legal relationships among men), and Natural Philosophy (the cosmos outside of mau). And this analysis of the entire organism into five parts causes the organic relation among the parts, at least in the case of the four faculties already outlined, to be clearly discerned, as well in the object itself as in the reflection of it in the subject, and develops the subdivisions organically in each of the four parts.

Nothing is gained, on the other hand, by the notion that Theology has religious feeling, subjective religion, the phenomena of piety, etc., for its object, and that for this reason it is not to be taken as Theology, but as the Science of Religion. It is impossible in an organic sense to coordinate man's psychical existence, man's somatical existence, man as subdivision of humanity, and nature outside of man, and then, as a fifth wheel to the wagon, man's religious feeling. For this religious feeling belongs to man's psychic existence, and the study of it as such tends to investigate the object man. Hence the religious feeling cannot be an independent part in the object to be investigated, distinguished from the other coordinated parts by an essential difference. This religious feeling is very important, and it is certainly right to investigate this phenomenon in the life of man and of humanity; but this religious life is coordinate with his ethical, aesthetical, and intellectual life; and hence belongs to his psychical existence. In this way these studies come of themselves under the Philological faculty, and can never occasion the rise of a separate faculty of Theology.

One objection only can be raised. From the view-point of the Trichotomists it can be asserted that man does not consist of body and soul, but of body, soul, and spirit, and that it is therefore entirely rational, by the side of a faculty for the body and a faculty for the soul, to place a third faculty, which has the spirit Qirvevfia) of man for its object, and that this should be the Theological. Thus next to a Somatology and a Psychology, there should also be a Pneumatology as "Dritte im Bunde." This objection, however, cannot stand. The organism of science cannot be analyzed, or, if you please, divided, according to the measure of a distinction accepted only by a single school, but disputed by other schools, and finding no echo in the universal human sense. With all the Reformed we reject the Trichotomy, at least in so far as it assumes three substances in man. We are Dichotomists. Even if the distinction between soul and spirit (^frv^tj and .irvevfia) were able to maintain itself to a certain extent, body, soul, and spirit could never be coordinated. But the antithesis should be between body and soul, and within that soul the distinction between the psychical and the pneumatical should be sought. Even they who speak of a faculty of the Science of Religion are well aware that nothing can be done with the pneuma as such, wherefore they have thrown themselves upon religion, as being a very complicated expression of life and rich in phenomenal life. The pneumatical per se would not be capable of investigation to any considerable extent. Hence along this way there is no possibility of pointing out a proper ground in the object of general science for a science of Theology, and there can be no question of a Theological faculty. Both are possible only when you come to the antithesis of self-conscious man and his God, so that you find the object of your faculty not in religion, but in God.

But even this by itself will not suffice. Not so much because it will not answer to coordinate God with the incorporeal, with the soul, the body politic, or nature. For the distinction could well be made between the creator and creation, in the creation between man and nature, and in man between his body and soul. This would be no logical error. But the difficulty is, that in science, as taken in this chapter, man is the thinking subject, and not God; that this thinking subject as such must stand above the object of science, and must be able to investigate it, and to grasp it with his understanding. And this he is well able to do with nature, with our body, soul, and body politic, but not with God, taken as an object of our human science. Thinking man, taken as subject over against God as object, is a logical contradiction in terms. It remains an incontestable truth (1 Cor. ii. 11) that "the things of God none knoweth, save the Spirit of God." Man himself would stand before us a closed mystery, if we were not man ourselves and thus able from ourselves to form our conclusions as to others. "For who among men knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of the man, which is in him?" With man, accordingly, his phenomenal manifestation may always serve us; observation is possible; and the multiplicity of objects, through comparison, may bring you to some clue. But with God taken as object, all this forsakes us. In the most absolute sense, He is univocus. From yourself (at least so long as He has not Himself revealed to you the creation after His image) you can conclude nothing concerning Him; neither can you see or hear or perceive Him in any conceivable way. For which reason it is entirely logical that the naturalistic tendency in science has not hesitated to cancel Theology, and that the Free University at Brussels, and after her more than one university in America, have opened no faculty, or "Department," as it is called in America, for Theology. We can also understand that the Theologians who have broken with Special Revelation have refused to walk any longer in the old paths, have abandoned God (o fod?) as object of science, and have declared: We can investigate religion, but not God. And no fault could have been found with this, had they faced the consequence of this metamorphosis of the object, and after the demolition of the Theological faculty transferred their study of religion to the Philological faculty.

Something very different presents itself, on the other hand, when the old definition is readopted, that the science of Theology finds its object of investigation in the revealed, ectypal knowledge of God; which definition we hold ourselves, but which can be explained only in the following chapter. It is enough here to recall that, according to this representation, God alone knows Himself (" archetypal knowledge of God," cognito Dei archetypa), and that there is no created being that can know aught of Him, except He himself reveals something from His self-knowledge and self-consciousness in a form that falls within the comprehension of the creature ("ectypal knowledge of God," cognitio Dei ectypa). Had this revelation, now, taken jilace in the form of complete analysis and synthesis, it would satisfy at once the most rigorous claims of our scientific wants, and would simply have to be inserted into the result of our other scientific work; just as in an historical sketch of an event, in which you yourself have played an important role, you simply insert and embody without further examination that which you yourself have planned and achieved, because you know your personal part in a way which does not provoke a closer investigation. Such, however, is not the character of this revelation, for it presents itself in such a form that all sorts of data are given, from which you are obliged to frame the result. Understood in this way, the complex of all that belongs to this revelation forms an object which, in its starting-point and end, is a unit (einheitlich); which invites investigation; and which by scientific effort must be transposed into a form that shall satisfy the claims of our human consciousness. Suppose that still more Egyptological discoveries were to be made, and, what is not impossible, that a number of inscriptions and communications were brought to light concerning a thus far lesser known Pharaoh; that monuments of his activity were unearthed; and that you were supplied with all sorts of letters, statistics, and records of his reign; all these discoveries would invite and enable you scientifically to explain the historical phenomenon of this prince. Then, however, the object of your investigation would still be Pharaoh himself, and not the knowledge of his person, simply because all these monuments and documents were not erected and written by him for the sake of giving you a specially intended representation of his person. But now imagine the other case. Suppose that an Eastern despot had purposed to hand down to succeeding generations, a particular representation of his person and work, which did not correspond to reality, and to this end had prepared numerous monuments and documents; then from these his real figure in history could not be known, but only that representation of himself which he had intended. And the object of your investigation would not be that despot himself, but "the knowledge of his person," such as he had purposed to hand down to posterity. And this is the case here. God has not unintentionally left behind Him traces of His works and revelations of His thoughts in monuments and documents, from which we are to search out who God is. But purposely, and fully conscious of what He was doing, the Lord our God has imparted a knowledge of His Being such as He desired that this knowledge should be. And He has done this in such a way that this revelation does not contain His absolute image, but conveys this knowledge in that particular form which alone can be of service to you. What we supposed in the case of the Asiatic despot to have sprung from the desire to have a different image of himself outlive him from that which he had exhibited in reality, takes place here by means of the third term of comparison (tertium comparationis). The image which is purposely exhibited here is different from the real Being, simply because it is only in that definite form, "according to the measure of man" (pro mensura hominis), that it can be taken up by us. We are therefore fully authorized to say that that which presents itself to us in these monuments and documents is not the knowledge of the real Being of God, which we are to search out from them, but, on the contrary, that in these monuments and documents lies an image of God, drawn by Himself, such as He desires us to receive. Hence, when we investigate these monuments and documents, the object which we search out is not the Divine Being, but that ectypal knowledge of God, which is posited in them by God Himself, and which corresponds entirely to the character of our human nature and our human consciousness. The investigation of those monuments and documents, and the search after the ectypal knowledge of God contained there- \ in, is a scientific task in an equally rigorous sense as, in the supposed case, the historic expounding of the image of such a Pharaoh or Asiatic despot.

We admit, of course, that in this section it is only an hypothesis that the Lord our God has placed such monumerits and documents at our disposal, that He has purposely hid in them an image of Himself, and that it is possible for us to obtain this ectypal knowledge from them. We only wanted to render it apparent, that with this hypothesis the necessity arises for a peculiar scientific work which does not indeed have God for its object, —a thing which cannot be, — but His ectypal knowledge; provided there exists a definite circle of phenomena from which, by investigation, this object can be known. And if, later on, it can be shown that what is here put as hypothesis is true, then in this way we have certainly found a Theology whose calling it is to do a scientific work, and which as such has a place in the organism of science. For this hypothesis itself implies that the phenomena from which this knowledge must be drawn, and this knowledge itself, must organically cohere with the object as well as with the subject of science: with the object, because these phenomena are given in the cosmos and in history; and with the subject, since it is only as ectypal that this knowledge corresponds to the measure of man. And this being so, the founding of a proper faculty for this scientific investigation is justified of itself. The object, indeed, which is sought in these phenomena cannot be brought under either of the four other heads. The phenomena which must be investigated form an entirely peculiar group. And the object itself is of such eminent importance, that not only the needs of practical life, but the incomplete character of all other science, alike render the study of Theology necessary.

One more objection, however, must be met. It might, indeed, be said that in § 38 of this volume we designate the cosmos as the only object of science; that except we fall into Pantheism, God does not belong to the cosmos, but that as the ground of all being and cause of the cosmos, He must be sought outside of it; that hence He does not belong to it, and that therefore the search after God, i.e. Theology, cannot be classed with science. We answer, that this objection has no force when directed against our representation of the matter. To us, indeed, not the unknown Essence of God but the ectypal revelation (revelatio ectypa) which has been made known, is the object of Theology. This revelation does not lie outside of, but in the cosmos, and never presents itself to us in any but its cosmical form. Without the least modification, therefore, of our definition of the object of science, Theology, interpreted in this way, certainly obtains its proper place in the organism of science. And Theology extends no further than this. For though the assumption of a cosmos implies the confession of a ground of being for that cosmos, it is not science, and therefore not Theology, but only the mysticism of our inner life, which involves the data by which we personally know and experience that we stand in communion with that extracosmical ground of being.

§ 55. The Influence of Palingenesis upon our View of Theology and its Relation to the Other Sciences

In the preceding sections the difference has repeatedly been shown between the conceptions which, according as you reckon with or without palingenesis, you must entertain of the task of the several faculties and their mutual relations. In this closing paragraph this difference is more definitely considered. There are two sorts of people, both of which claim to be the interpreters of our human race in its normal manifestation, and who, because thinking that their own apprehension is the scientific consciousness, cannot abandon the pretension that the result of their scientific work alone leads to the knowledge of the object; which knowledge is indeed not adequate, but as pure as lies within our reach. The difference between these two groups can briefly be designated by the word Palingenesis, in so far as this implies, first, the abnormal character of that which has not undergone this palingenesis, and, on the other hand, the gradual growth into normality again of what exhibits itself as fruit of this palingenesis. This accounts for the fact that he who not only stands outside of palingenesis but also rejects it as a play of the imagination, must consider everything as normal and can only view the divergencies or disturbances as necessary stages in the process of development. Hence such an one deems himself authorized to draw his conclusions from what exists — both from what exists outside of him and from what exists in himself, — and to make these conclusions compulsory for all. And from this point of view no other method is conceivable. He, on the other hand, who himself lives in the palingenesis, or who at least accepts it as a fact, has eo ipso an entirely different outlook upon himself and his surroundings. Palingenesis implies that all existing things are in ruins; that there is a means by which these ruins can be restored, yea, that in part they are already restored. He neither may nor can, therefore, draw compulsory conclusions from what exists outside of palingenesis; there can be no question with him of an evolution process; and for him the necessity of all science does not lie in what presents itself to him, but in the criticism of existing things by which he distinguishes the abnormal from the normal.

This applies to all the faculties, but becomes more important in proportion as the part of the object which a given faculty is to investigate stands higher. With the faculty of Natural Philosophy, therefore, this antithesis makes itself least felt; a little more with the Medical; more strongly with the Philological; almost overwhelmingly with the Juridical; but most strongly of all with the Theological faculty.

If I omit from my calculations the facts of palingenesis and sin, then no estrangement from God has taken place; then our understanding has not been darkened; and no disturbance has convulsed nature to cloud the transparency of God in the cosmos. And it is equally inconceivable that a restoring power should be operative in the world, in our heart and in our thought, or that there should be a revelation, in facts or in words, which does not coincide with the normal process of development. For in this case we have nothing but progress, continuous gain and clarifying of knowledge. And granted that there is a God and that a knowledge of this God seems possible, this knowledge of God stands infinitely higher in our nineteenth century than in the days of Abraham and Moses, of David and Isaiah, of Christ and his Apostles. Hence it is from no evil intent, at least not among men (of Satan we do not speak), but simply the necessary consequence of the lack of a personal experience of palingenesis, that, so far from acknowledging them, modern theological development cannot rest until it has dispossessed all religious phenomena of their uncommon character, and has included them in the scope of the normal development of our human consciousness. And it is but the consequence of principle, which is compulsory from this point of view, that the authority of the Holy Scriptures is attacked, and that the conflict against the Holy Scriptures must be continued until at length all that they offer us is reduced to the proportions of the ordinary.

And this gives rise to the question whether from this naturalistic point of view there can still be a theological science, and whether there is still room for a theological faculty. This question is not answered by a rehearsal of the gigantic labors of modern Theology in breaking down the so-called antiquated representations. Breaking down is not building up. And though it is indisputably the task of science to combat error, it is plain that this negative effort does not justify the existence of a faculty. Thus the question should be put as follows: When once the old building shall have been taken down entirely, so that without causing any more concern, antique Theology, properly catalogued, shall have been carefully put by in the museum of scientific antiquities, will there then still remain a work of a peculiar character like Theology which as such will justify the existence of a separate faculty? And this must be answered in the negative. It can be said superficially, that from this view-point also the five questions present themselves to the thinking mind — concerning his own spiritual and bodily existence, and his relation to his fellow-men, to nature and to his God; but — and this is the decisive point — from this point of view the very existence of God is questionable. One no doubt says there is a God; but another denies it. And among those also who acknowledge the existence of God, some hold that He can be known, while others dispute it. Suppose it were a question whether there are plants, should we be able to speak of a botanical science? So long as the existence of the object of a science remains uncertain, inquiry may take place; one may sound, feel his way and seek, but one cannot investigate. Science with a proper object, and a method derived from that object, is still wanting. Hence in no case can a complex of sciences be allowed to form an independent faculty, on the ground of its organic relation to life. As an escape from this dilemma an attempt has been made to substitute another object for this science, by placing the knowledge of Religion at its disposal instead of the knowledge of God. From now on it is to be called the Science of Religion. The existence of religion can in no case be denied. In religion we have to do with a notable phenomenon that has been observed at all times and among many nations. This phenomenon may be investigated and thus theological science be revivified. This, however, rests upon a misunderstanding. As a subjective phenomenon religion is one of the phenomena of man's spiritual existence, and as such it belongs to the Philological faculty, and more appropriately to history and philosophy. And as no one would think it proper to found a separate faculty for aesthetics or ethics, it is equally unreasonable to open a faculty for the religious life in man (or at least in many men). We do not deny that from this point of view also there may be a very earnest desire to learn what may be known of God in man and in nature; and to the study of religion or of the science of religion, to annex another study, which seeks after God, feels after Him that it may find Him, tries to prove His existence and to establish knowledge concerning Him. But he who ignores the facts of the fall and palingenesis, must always reckon with the denial of God by so many thousands, for which reason he can never attain unto a positive knowledge, nor ever produce anything that falls outside of the scope of Philosophy. From this naturalistic point of view the five faculties must be reduced to four. The faculty of Theology, whose supposed object must still be sought, falls away. And everything that relates to religion, in its phenomena as well as in the postulates that produce these phenomena, as a department of study, goes to the Philological faculty. The so-called history of religions is classed with history, more appropriately with the science of countries and nations. Religion as a psychological phenomenon is relegated to the psychological sciences. And finally the assumptions to which religion leads find their place in speculative philosophy, which here finds a point of support for its favorite monistic conclusions.

This whole matter assumes an entirely different phase, however, when palingenesis is taken as the starting-point. For then it ceases to be a problem whether there is a God; that the knowledge of God can be obtained is certain; and in the revelation which corresponds to this palingenesis there is presented of itself an objectum tut generis, which cannot be subserved under any of the other faculties; this impels the human mind to a very serious scientific investigation, which is of the utmost importance to practical life. Then every necessary claim, for the emergence of Theology as a proper department of science, is fully met; and its right to a special faculty is entirely indisputable. He who knows from personal experience that there is such a palingenesis, and conceives something of the important change wrought by this fact in our entire sensibility, cannot remain in the suspense of this vague impression, but feels impelled to explain it to his consciousness, and to give himself an intelligent account of all the consequences which flow from it and which are bound to affect his entire world- and life-view. And since this fact does not stand by itself in him, but corresponds to similar facts in the spiritual existence of others, and to analogous facts in the cosmos and in history, the demand of the human spirit is absolute, that these facts, in him as well as outside of him, must be investigated and placed in relation and in order. And this no other science can do; hence a special science must be found to do this; since the object to be investigated bears an entirely independent character. The further exposition of this will be the task of the following chapters. But at this point let us briefly consider the relation which, from the view-point of palingenesis, must exist between the Theological faculty and the other faculties.

All prosecution of science which starts out from naturalistic premises denies the subjective fact of palingenesis, as well as the objective fact of a special revelation, which immediately corresponds to this. Even though the inconsistency is committed of maintaining from this point of view a Theological faculty, no influence worth the mention can ever be exerted by this faculty upon the other faculties. Religion, which as a phenomenon is the object to be investigated by this faculty, is and remains an expression of the life of the emotions, which, however strong its hold may be upon life, either remains unexplained, or allows itself to be classed in the common scope. Alongside of the ethical and aesthetical life, there is also a religious life; but the study of that religious life imposes no claims upon the studies of the other sciences, nor does it exercise an influence upon their methods.

This, of course, is altogether different, when in palingenesis we recognize a critical and a restorative fact, which both subjectively and objectively places all things, along with their origin and issue, before us in an entirely different light. In the Holy Scriptures palingenesis is a general conception, which is applied to the subject of science (vide Tit. iii. 5), as well as to the object of science (vide Matt. xix. 28). It assumes a first genesis, which by a departure of the process of life from its principle has led to death, and now it declares that a repetition of the genesis takes place, but this time as a springing up again of that which went down, and that in this restoration the method of genesis repeats itself, viz. the development from a germ. This is applied to man in all his inward life, but will sometime be applied as well to man's somatical existence, as to the whole cosmos outside of him, as far as this also has shared in the false process. Hence palingenesis is now operative in the human mind; and, analogous to this, palingenesis will hereafter appear in the somatical and cosmical life. This palingenesis is introduced spiritually by an act of God's Spirit in the spiritual life of humanity (inspiration in its broadest sense), and somatically by an act of the power of God in the natural life of the world (miracles in their widest interpretation). From which it follows that all study of science, where the investigator occupies the view-point of palingenesis, must reckon with the four phenomena: (1) of personal regeneration; and (2) of its corresponding inspiration; (3) of the final restoration of all things; and (4) of its corresponding manifestation of God's power in miracles (NiphleStk). These four phenomena have no existence to the scientist who starts out from naturalistic premises. On the contrary, hi8 principle and starting-point compel him to cancel these phenomena, or, where this is not possible, to explain them naturalistically. He, on the other hand, who has personally been taken up into this powerful, all-dominating activity of palingenesis, finds his starting-point in these very phenomena, and mistrusts every result of investigation which does not entirely correspond to them. If now this palingenesis applied only to the religious life, one could say that the faculty of Theology alone is bound to deal with it. But this is not at all the case. Palingenesis is a universal conception which dominates your whole person, and all of life about you; moreover, palingenesis is a power that exerts an influence not merely in your religious, but equally in your ethical, aesthetical, and intellectual life. A Jurist, a Physician, a Philologian, and a Physicist, who have personally come under the action of this palingenesis, experience its influence as well as the Theologian, and not only in their emotional but in their intellectual life. This, indeed, has been too much overlooked in earlier periods; wherefore the consequences of palingenesis have been looked for in Theology alone, and thus the mischievous demand has been imposed upon the other sciences that they should subject themselves to the utterances of Theology in those points also which did not pertain to its object of investigation. The Reformed alone have established the rule with reference to the magistracy, that it should not ask the Church to interpret God's ordinances regarding the duties of its life, but that the magistrates should study them out independently for themselves from nature and from the word of God. In this way homage was paid to the principle that every one who shares this palingenesis should exercise independent judgment in all his own affairs. If this principle, which is the only true one, were applied to all the sciences, it would readily be seen that Theology is by no means called upon to arbitrate in every domain of science; while, on the other hand, also, it would be seen that a twofold study must develop itself of all the sciences,— one, by those who must deny palingenesis, and the other by those who must reckon with it.

This, however, does not take away the fact, that the other sciences must leave Theology the task of investigating palingenesis. For this is its appointed task. Theology alone is called to do this. If there were no palingenesis, there would be no other than a natural knowledge of God, which belongs in the Philological faculty to the philosophical, and more especially to the psychological and ontological, sciences. Since, on the contrary, palingenesis has come in as an universal phenomenon, dominating all things, a faculty of its own had to be created for Theology, and it is the task of Theology to take the four above-mentioned phenomena as the object of its independent investigation. It must examine: (1) inspiration, as the introductory fact to psychical palingenesis; (2) the psychical palingenesis itself; (3) the manifestation that operates introductory to the cosmical palingenesis; and (4) the cosmical palingenesis. Later on it will be shown why this entire study must be drawn from the Holy Scriptures as the principium of Theology, and how it owes its unity just to this common principium. For the present, let it suffice that we simply assume this as a fact, and conclude from it that the investigation here to be instituted forms a special, well-defined ground, and that the other faculties must leave this investigation to Theology. And as, in virtue of the mutual relations of the sciences, one adopts its borrowed data (Lehnsiitze) from the other whenever it is necessary, so that the Juridical science, for instance, does not compose a psychology for itself, and does not teach a physics of its own in economics, but borrows as much material as it requires from the philological and physical sciences; so also is the relation here. No one of the other faculties can institute an investigation of its own of palingenesis, but must borrow its data for this from Theology. And as to their own ground of investigations, they operate from the consciousness of palingenesis, as far as this refers to their own department; and they cannot rest until with their own method they have brought the insight and the knowledge of their own object into harmony with the study of palingenesis.