Ernst Luthardt - History of Christian Ethics: History of Christian Ethics Before The Reformation

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C L A R K ’S
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THEOLOGICAL LIBRARY.
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VOL. XL.
Utitfjartit’s f^fetorg of Christian

V O L . i.
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FOR
T. & '\ CLARK, EDINBURGH,
LONDON, . . . . . HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND 0 0 ,

DUBLIN, . . . . . . GEORGE HERBERT.
NEW YO RK , . . . . . SCRIBNER AND WELFORD,
HISTORY
OF
CHRISTIAN ETHI CS,
I· t
H IS T O R Y OF C H R IS T IA N E T H IC S
BEFORE THE REFORMATION.
DE. CHR. ERNST LUTHARDT,

PROFESSOR OF THEOLOGY AT LEI^SIC.
^Translated from tbe German

BY
W. H ASTIE, B.D.,
E X A M IN E R IN THEOLOGY, U N IVERSITY OF ED INBURGH .
E D IN B U R G H :
T. & T. CLARK, 38 GEORGE STREET.
1889.
FO R
T. & T. CLARK, EDINBURGH,
LONDON, . . . . . . . HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND 0 0 ,

D UBLIN....................................... GEORGE HERBERT.
N EW Y O R K , ..........................SCRIBNER AND WELFORD,

HISTORY
OF
CHRISTIAN ETHI CS,
I· t
H IS T O R Y OF C H R IS T IA N E T H IC S
DR. CHR. ERNST LUTHARDT,

PROFESSOR OF THEOLOGY AT LEIfSIC.
{Translated from tbe German

BY
W. H ASTIE, B.D.,
EXA M IN E R IN THEOLOGY, U N IVERSITY OF EDINBURGH.
ED IN B U R G H :
T. & T. CLARK, 38 GEORGE STREET.
1 8 8 9.
T R A N S L A T O R ’S P R E F A C E .
A mong the many obligations which contemporary Christen

dom owes to the German Theology of the Nineteenth Century,
not the least of them is due to its earnest revival and
methodical cultivation of Christian Ethics as an essential
department of theological science. Christianity, as primarily
and predominantly a moral religion, has never lost sight of its
cardinal bearing on human life, but certain special circum
stances connected with the Christian movement itself have
contributed to impress on the best theology of our time a
more distinctively ethical character and tendency. The
ecclesiastical Dogmatics of the Protestant Churches, which so
well served their day in maintaining the essential truth of the
primitive Christianity, have not kept pace with the general
movement of thought, nor even advanced in harmony with
the progress of the intellectual and moral revolution from
which they sprang. Dogmatic Theology has thus largely
fallen into disrepute as an arrested development or a decaying
survival; and it has but rarely struck new roots into the
vital soil of the latest scientific culture. The rise and progress
of an independent Biblical Criticism, and the more scientific
methods of reaching the primitive forces and vitality of the
early Church, have in consequence determined a new return
to the evangelical fountains of life, and have largely superseded
and antiquated the elaborate Symbolics of the different
Churches. At the same time, the differentiation of Biblical
Theology from the proper dogmatic system, and its fruitful
vii
cultivation on the basis of the new Exegesis, have forcibly
shown the one-sidedness and comparative vacuity of the old
dogmatic position. W ith the larger and fuller knowledge
of the whole historical development of the Church and a
comparative study of the non-Christian religions, there has
also come more clearly into light the relativity and finite value
of the mere intellectual forms which have been generated or
occasioned by the logical process of reflection upon the
products of the past. The exigencies of the practical
Christian service, the humanizing of the government and
orders of the Church, and the unionistic strivings, have also
put the whole Christian system into closer relations with the
living habits and modes of thought. And all this has brought
the fact more clearly into view from various sides of Theology
and practice, that the essential and paramount interest of
Christianity is the Christian life itself, and that the scientific
comprehension and elucidation of it is the chief function of
modern theology.
Alongside of the theological movement in its own sphere,
the whole current of philosophical and scientific thought has
also been leading to a similar conclusion. The speculative
ardour and originality which have arisen from a philosophical
apprehension of the fundamental freedom and vitality of
Protestant thought, have spent their force in daring and
magnificent attempts to work out a monistic theory of the
universe and a new ideal of life from the standpoint of the
free rational self-consciousness. But their results have been
unsatisfying and even disappointing in the extreme; and as
one system superseded the other, it only paved the way for a
more eager and resolute return to the concrete reality of the
natural and moral worlds. In consequence, the speculative
systems ^have been all but superseded by the practical work
of empirical science and more direct investigation of the
cosmic evolution and unfolding of existing things. Yet
whatever changes have been thus superinduced upon the
intellectual standpoint, the moral life has thereby only
become more clearly recognised as the consummation and
crown of the whole natural and historical movement, and its
value has risen rather than fallen in the eyes of earnest
thinkers with the decadence of the speculative method.
Whatever may be the estimation put by the different surviv
ing schools of thought upon the dogmatic tradition and its
forms, there is hardly any dispute as to the real value of the
Christian life as the chief factor of modern civilisation, as the
most potent embodiment of organised philanthropy, and as
the highest practical consciousness of the time. Whatever
else may be considered antiquated or superseded, the fact of
the Christian life is always with us as our chief spiritual
inheritance; and it demands as much as any other fact, and
even more than any other fact, its scientific explanation and
valuation.
Furthermore, in the great conflict that is being waged, at
least on the surface of the social movement, between the
practical Christianity of our time and the free spirit of modern
reflection, it has now come to be clearly seen that the issue
will be determined, in accordance with the methods and
measures of the time, by direct regard to the practical realities
and possibilities of the actual Christian life. It is towards
this point that the Apologetic Science of our time is rapidly
converging, and its triumph can only be won by scientific
vindication of the supreme and indestructible virtue of the
redemptive power in the life of the renewed personality.
Here, too, the dogmatic effort, both in the individual theo
logian and in the Councils of the Church, must find its central
interest; and all its postulates and presuppositions, rational
or historical, will stand or fall by their verification in the
realising conditions of the Christian life. I f there be any
validity in Mr. Herbert Spencer’s designation of the “ theo
logical thaw,” it is manifest whither the Queen of the Sciences
must turn to renew her ancient warmth and vitality. There
is, in fact, no essential interruption as yet of the continuity
of the Christian life, nor even any vital cessation at the
heart of the theological movement. Nor, in consequence,
is there any reason for despair of a genuine system of Chris
tian doctrine that will be at once faithful to the supernatural-
istic belief of the past and in harmony with the natural order
and the moral freedom of the present. But it will only be by
scientific elaboration of the living principle of the Christian
faith on all its sides that Systematic Theology will be able to
vindicate its claim to the supreme place in the hierarchy of
the Sciences; and its progress in the future will mainly
depend upon the success and certainty of its ethical conquest
of.the various elements and spheres of life. A ll this goes
further to show the urgent need of profound and thorough
investigation of the Christian life itself, or in a word, the
cardinal importance of Christian Ethics, which is the theo
logical science of that life.1
Moreover, the present conditions and tendencies of the
material forces of human society, desiderate more than ever
the highest ethical illumination and guidance. The turbulent
and revolutionary elements of the social life are continually
reproduced in their own natural forms, and are becoming
increasingly intensified by their own spontaneous multiplica
tion and aggregation. In consequence, the struggle for exist
ence, with all its natural accompaniments of individual
selfishness and social conflict, has taken a more acute form
1 The formal relation of Ethics to Dogmatics need not be dealt with here.
The view almost universally adopted now is that Dogmatics and Ethics arc
the two constituent and complementary departments embraced in Systematic
Theology. Dr. Luthardt practically adopts this view (in his Compendium der
Dogmatik, § 4 ); and, as will be seen, very definitely bases Ethics on Dogmatics.
Summaries of the discussions of this question will be found in the Theological
Encyclopaedias o f Hagenbach, Pelt, Rabiger, and others. Professor Flint,
in his recent Article on Theology in the Encyclopedia Britannica, says:
“ Christian Dogmatics and Christian Ethics are the two disciplines included
in Christian Systematic Theology. They ought to be separated and cultivated
apart, and yet must be recognised to be closely connected, and each the
necessary complement of the other.”
under the very shelter and fostering of modern liberty, so that
the consciousness of clamant natural impulses and the unre
flecting demands of a natural right to their satisfaction, have
stirred the masses in their lowest depths, and are aggravating all
the difficulties of the tasks of the modern State. The industrial
necessities of the age, and the consequent agglomerations of
the population, have likewise begotten new relationships,
wants, and habits of lif e; and all the increase in wealth, and
the means of comfort thereby produced, have only led to more
glaring contrasts in social conditions and surroundings, and in
individual enjoyment and suffering. The difficulties in the life
of the multitude thus generated, have been greatly multiplied
at the great centres by the facility and increase of international
intercommunication. With all the progress of science and all
the cultivation of art which has marked the time, the spirit
of the age has become more material, more realistic, more
exacting in its practical arrangements, and more indifferent to
the natural sympathies. The ideal of Humanity which the
present century has been vaguely striving to formulate and
vainly struggling to realize, has alternately elevated the few
and depressed the many by its transient enthusiasms and its
practical failures. Nor have the disturbance and unrest of the
spirit of the time, arising from its perpetual tension and
oscillation between a concentrated individualism and a fantastic
socialism, been overcome by the attempts to popularise intel
lectual culture or by the political concessions of indefinite
liberal legislation. Still less has the advocacy of a mere
secular moralism, severed from all religion and formulated as a
calculating utilitarianism on an agnostic basis, been able to
meet the urgent need of a higher elevating guidance of human
life, or to give society even in its centres of greatest outward
refinement any guarantee against the threatenings of a relapse
into chaos and barbarism. Such secular and utilitarian morality
at its highest and best gives no means of reaching the deepest
springs of the inner life, furnishes no remedy for individual
despair, stirs to no heroism of sacrifice, secures no social
stability, and yields no solace against the horror *of universal
death. And thus the necessity of an ethical ideal of life,
at once spiritual, vitalising, and regulative, has again become
more clearly apparent than ever before from the very shadows
flung over the life of man by the secularism, agnosticism, and
pessimism of our time. Here it is that Christian Ethics must
now take its proper place and exercise its practical function
in showing how to spiritualize the material conditions of
human life, to mediate between their natural conflictions, and
to lift them out of their inherent discordance into the higher
moral unity of the kingdom of God.
Eor it is the very function of Christian Ethics to deal with
these problems in all their variety and breadth and depth. As a
science it approaches human life from the highest standpoint,
and yet every human fact and relation in detail is to it of
infinite significance. It may well say, even more than any other
science: Nihil humani a me alienum puto. Erom the lowest
deep into which sin can carry humanity up to the loftiest
height man can attain, it ranges over all the reality and possi
bility of human life. It has to exhibit the highest ideal of
Humanity involved in the Divine purpose of revelation, with
its theanthropic presentation in the Son of Man and its gradual
realization in the universal embodiment of the Kingdom of God.
In opposition to the pessimism of our time, it has to show
forth the concrete and attainable good of the highest spirituali
sation of man in the eternal union with G o d ; in opposi
tion to the lawless naturalism of the time, it has to lay down
the supreme law of duty in the light of the Christian conscience
and in the infinite actualization of liberty through absolute
dependence on G o d ; and in opposition to a mere corporeal
secularism, it has to portray the spiritual virtue of the
Christian life in its individual representation of the restored
image of God, and in its various forms and spheres of work
and communion. While starting from the Divine-human
process of regeneration and sanctification in the individual
personality, Christian Ethics has very specially to deal with
the social and universal life of humanity as the sphere of the
terrestrial realization and embodiment of the Kingdom of God,
the highest good of mankind. It is on this side that the
cultivation of Christian Ethics is at present most urgently
required in view of the existing social conditions and tendencies.
The conception of the Church as an ethical organism working
out the pure ideal of humanity in the communion of its
members, rather than the mediaeval notion of a theocratico-
political Institution or State working in rivalry or collision
with other States, or claiming jurisdiction and supremacy over
them, is gradually becoming the standpoint of the Christian
Moralist. And from it he may now hope to deal more justly
and effectively with all the great social and political questions
of the tim e: the relation of the Church to the State; the
Christian duties of political citizenship and international
relationships; government; legislation; justice; crim e; pun
ishment ; communism; socialism; the domestic life and the
household; the rights of property; individuality; labour;
science; art; pauperism ; progress ; reform ; in short, with all
the vexed social conceptions, questions, and problems of the
hour. Eor these constitute the essential objects and interests
of a thoroughly methodized and comprehensive system of
Christian Ethics, and they must now be dealt with in accord
ance with all the resources of theological science.1
1 The formal division o f the Science will no doubt he dealt with by the Author
in the systematic part of his work. Some o f the most important divisions will
be found in the Theological Encyclopaedias of Hagenbach (translated by Crooks
and Hurst), Pelt (1843), and Rabiger (translated by Rev. J. Macpherson, 1885,
T. & T. Clark). Professor Flint, in his article “ Theology ” in the Encyclopaedia
Britannica, gives the following as a scheme of Christian Ethics:— “ I. Deter
mination of the nature, limits, and method of the science, and of its relations to
other disciplines, and especially to those which are ethical and theological. II.
Presuppositions o f the science : these are— (1) The ethical idea of God as revealed
in nature and in Christ; (2) man as a moral being in his relation to the law and
revelation of God ; (3) creation and providence as ethical systems ; and (4) the
kingdom of God in itself, in relation to creation and providence, and as the goal
despair, stirs to no heroism of sacrifice, secures no social
stability, and yields no solace against the horror1of universal
death. And thus the necessity of an ethical ideal of life,
at once spiritual, vitalising, and regulative, has again become
more clearly apparent than ever before from the very shadows
flung over the life of man by the secularism, agnosticism, and
pessimism of our time. Here it is that Christian Ethics must
now take its proper place and exercise its practical function
in showing how to spiritualize the material conditions of
human life, to mediate between their natural conflictions, and
to lift them out of their inherent discordance into the higher
moral unity of the kingdom of God.
Eor it is the very function of Christian Ethics to deal with
these problems in all their variety and breadth and depth. As a
science it approaches human life from the highest standpoint,
and yet every human fact and relation in detail is to it of
infinite significance. It may well say, even more than any other
science: Nihil humani a me alienum puto. From the lowest
deep into which sin can carry humanity up to the loftiest
height man can attain, it ranges over all the reality and possi
bility of human life. It has to exhibit the highest ideal of
Humanity involved in the Divine purpose of revelation, with
its theanthropic presentation in the Son of Man and its gradual
realization in the universal embodiment of the Kingdom of God.
In opposition to the pessimism of our time, it has to show
forth the concrete and attainable good of the highest spirituali
sation of man in the eternal union with G o d ; in opposi
tion to the lawless naturalism of the time, it has to lay down
the supreme law of duty in the light of the Christian conscience
and in the infinite actualization of liberty through absolute
dependence on God; and in opposition to a mere corporeal
secularism, it has to portray the spiritual virtue of the
Christian life in its individual representation of the restored
image of God, and in its various forms and spheres of work
and communion. While starting from the Divine-human
process of regeneration and sanctification in the individual
personality, Christian Ethics has very specially to deal with
the social and universal life of humanity as the sphere of the
terrestrial realization and embodiment of the Kingdom of God,
the highest good of mankind. It is on this side that the
cultivation of Christian Ethics is at present most urgently
required in view of the existing social conditions and tendencies.
The conception of the Church as an ethical organism working
out the pure ideal of humanity in the communion of its
members, rather than the mediaeval notion of a theocratico-
political Institution or State working in rivalry or collision
with other States, or claiming jurisdiction and supremacy over
them, is gradually becoming the standpoint of the Christian
Moralist. And from it he may now hope to deal more justly
and effectively with all the great social and political questions
of the tim e: the relation of the Church to the State; the
Christian duties of political citizenship and international
relationships; government; legislation; justice; crim e; pun
ishment ; communism; socialism; the domestic life and the
household; the rights of property; individuality; labour;
science; art; pauperism; progress ; reform ; in short, with all
the vexed social conceptions, questions, and problems of the
hour. Eor these constitute the essential objects and interests
of a thoroughly methodized and comprehensive system of
Christian Ethics, and they must now be dealt with in accord
ance with all the resources of theological science.1
1 The formal division o f the Science will no doubt be dealt with by the Author
in the systematic part of his work. Some o f the most important divisions will
be found in the Theological Encyclopaedias of Hagenbach (translated by Crooks
and Hurst), Pelt (1843), and Rabiger (translated by Rev. J. Macpherson, 1885,
T. & T. Clark). Professor Flint, in his article “ Theology” in the Encyclopedia
Britannica, gives the following as a scheme o f Christian Ethics:— “ I. Deter
mination of the nature, limits, and method of the science, and of its relations to
other disciplines, and especially to those which are ethical and theological. II.
Presuppositions of the science: these are— (1) The ethical idea of God as revealed
in nature and in Christ; (2) man as a moral being in his relation to the law and
revelation of God ; (3) creation and providence as ethical systems ; and (4) the
kingdom of God in itself, in relation to creation and providence, and as the goal
Such a science is manifestly one of the utmost difficulty as
well as of the greatest importance. It presupposes all the
capability of natural or philosophical Ethics, and does not
contradict or supersede its legitimate products, but supplements
and completes them.1 It implies the highest speculative appre
hension and insight in dealing with the ultimate objects of the
Christian faith, and it requires the freest movement of thought
in exploring their relations to the concrete conditions of the
finite consciousness. It is beset at the same time with all
the difficulties that are involved in the attempt to reach a
scientific interpretation of the darkest and deepest sides of
human experience. Its range of interest is as extensive as
the whole manifestation and development of the race. A ll
the currents of speculation, history, and science thus meet in
the department of Christian Ethics. No wonder that it has
been late in taking scientific shape, and that its systematic
expositions are still but tentative, one-sided, and incomplete.2
But the reawakened sense of its value is the guarantee of its
increasing progress. A ll the other departments of theology
will continue to be fertilized by its earnest and practical spirit,
and contribute to enrich it in return. The critic and exegete
will have light thrown from it upon the multifarious details
of Scripture, and find their unity in its end. The historian
will be better enabled by it to understand the purpose and
of moral life. III. The fundamental conceptions of the science: these are (1)
the Christian ethical. la w ; (2) the Christian conscience; (3) the Christian
ethical idea l; and (4) Christian virtue. IV. The reign of sin in the individual
and society viewed in the light of Christianity. V. The origin and progress
of the kingdom of God in the individual soul, and its manifestation in the
virtues and graces of the individual character. VI. The realization of the
kingdom of God in tho various spheres of society— the family, the Church, the
nation.”
1 See Dorncr’s thoughtful and comprehensive view of the relation of Christian
Ethics to Philosophical Ethics, in his System o f Christian Ethics, § 3 (1887),
and contrast it with the superficial and narrow position advocated by Dr.
Wardlaw* in his Christian Ethics (5th ed. 1852).
2 Christian Ethics was first treated as an independent theological discipline
by L. Danaeus (Daneau), a theologian of the Reformed Church, in his Ethices
Christiana:, lib. iii., published at Geneva in 1577.
causality of the movement of the past. The dogmatic theo
logian will have his most abstract conceptions vitalized by
contact with its realities. The practical theologian will find
in it the surest guidance to the right government, admini
stration, and extension of the Church. The preacher and the
pastor will have their individual insight and tact deepened,
confirmed, and enlarged by its methodical unfolding of the
whole contents and relations of the Christian life. A complete
Christian Ethic would at once be a practical solution of all
the religious problems, and an index of the real value of the
Christianity of its time.
It is their recognition of these relations of modem Chris
tianity that has mainly given the more constructive German
theologians of this century their right to leadership and
guidance. In particular, as regards Christian Ethics, it is to
Schleiermacher that we owe the living insight and the renovat
ing touch which have made his exhibition of the subject,
fragmentary and incomplete though it be, so fruitful and
significant. He has been followed by many earnest thinkers
in this sphere, who have dealt more clearly and simply with
the Christian ideal, and who have brought it into closer
relation to the new movements and wants of our time.
What we have now to do amid our own perplexities and
difficulties, is to appropriate their learning and to follow out
boldly the lines of their best thought. Throughout the whole
range of English Christendom, the same fundamental problems
of the individual life and of society which have stimulated the
German scholars and thinkers, are making themselves felt, and
have even become glaringly apparent; and the question of the
capability of Christianity to take up and solve these problems
is also now our chief task. Whatever may be the interest of
the critical study of the origins of Christianity, and whatever
may be the charm or constraint of its historic products, the
chief value of all Christian investigation and thought just lies
in their relative capability in furnishing material and resources
for this task. In other words, the interest of Christian
theology is rapidly gravitating from all sides towards the
problems of Christian Ethics; and our comparative neglect
or superficial treatment of this side of theological science can
only be undone in its effects by a more earnest and methodical
cultivation of it in view of the moral exigencies and even
necessities of the hour.1
But of no department of theology is it more true than of
Christian Ethics, that it can only be surely approached and
adequately understood through historical study of its develop
ment. The most superficial glimpse of Church history shows
that every Christian age has had its own moral tasks, and
that no one age has ever completely grasped or realized the
full significance of the whole Christian idea of life. If the
Christian ideal is indeed the highest and most comprehensive,
it could not but require a development through variation and
progress to exhibit in the successive formations of history
its inner riches and possibilities. It would be vain to expect
1 A good deal might be said regarding the comparative neglect or superficial

treatment of this department of theology in English-speaking countries, and
the effect thereof upon the character and movement of English Theology
generally, but this will fall to be more properly dealt with in the sequel of the
History. AVardlaw’s Christian Ethics (1st ed. 1833, 5tli ed. 1852) is still the best
known book on the subject; but apart from the narrowness o f its standpoint
and the externality of its method (which make it rather a dogmatic than an
ethical treatise), it is now almost entirely antiquated and superseded. The
translations of the Christian Ethics of Wuttke (Christian Ethics, 2 vols. 1873),
Harless (System o f Christian Ethics, 1880), and especially o f Martensen
(Christian Ethics, 3 vols. 1878-1888) and Dorner {System o f Christian Ethics,
1887), have done much to revive and stimulate interest in the subject in
England. Among recent works showing a gratifying evidence o f this interest,
the following may be mentioned:— F. D. Maurice, The Conscience: Lectures
on Casuistry, 1868 ; T. R. Birks, Supernatural Revelation, or First Principles
o f M oral Theology, 1879; Stanley Leatlies, The Foundations o f M ora lity:
Discourses on the Ten Commandments, 1882 ; C. A. Row, The M oral Teaching
o f the New Testament, 1872 ; J. A. Hessey, M oral Difficulties connected with
the Bible, 1872 ; Newman Smyth, The M orality o f the Old Testament, 1887 ;
Dr. H. Wace, Christianity and Morality (Boyle Lect. 1876), 7th ed. 1886 ;
Dr. G. Matheson, Landmarks o f New Testament Morality, 1888. Dr. Luthardt
refers to Ecce Homo {infra, pp. 26-7) with evident appreciation of its dis
cussion of the ethical principle of Christianity.
to find such an ideal in the self-consciousness of any one
individual who is the mere recipient of its power, or even in
any one branch of the Church, or in the conflicting apprehen
sions of its various branches at any one time. Least of all
could this be found in the antagonistic partialities of a
divided and distracted age like ours. The student of Christian
Ethics is thus thrown back upon the whole historical move
ment as the natural enlargement of his own individuality and
experience; and he must traverse it anew in the light of
present strivings and tendencies in order to realize the various
elements and phases, the different limitations and aberrations,
and the manifold tentatives and aspirations, exhibited by the
Christian life in the past and embodied in its history. It is
only thus that he can hope to understand the genesis and
conditions of the present order of things within the sphere of
the Christian life, and something of the essential reality and
possibility embraced in the contemporary Christianity.
It has been mainly with a view to further this necessary
and fundamental process of historically studying this much
neglected but most important subject, that the present work
has been translated. Dr. Luthardt requires no introduction
to the English student of theology in view of those valuable
and popular works of his which have already become natural
ized in our English theological literature. In particular, his
popular apologetic Lectures on the Moral Truths of Chris
tianity have already shown to English readers in a genial and
attractive form his insight into the moral essence and relations
of the Christian religion, and something of the thoroughness
of his preparation for dealing with the historical development
of Christian Ethics. His History o f Christiani Ethics is
designed as an historical preparation and basis for a more
complete and methodical exposition of his system, and Bit is
in consequence severely, even drily, scientific in its method.
This volume brings the History down to the Reformation, when
the subject of Christian Ethics began to differentiate itself from
h
the other departments of theology and to attain a properly
scientific interest and form. The historical movement is
sketched with a firm hand and with wonderful conciseness,
while the abundant details are grouped in their most sugges
tive bearings and set forth with due regard to their objective
importance. So far as it has gone, Dr. Luthardt’s History
is not only the latest, but it is the best, most proportionate,
and most useful that we yet possess.1 Prom the natural
involution of the thought in the concrete life of the time, the
historical representation gives at every stage glimpses of the
state of Christian morals in the Church as well as an account
of the ethical reflection of its leaders and guides; and if these
are seldom ideal, and often even disappointing and forbidding,
they are nevertheless necessary and valuable in the special rela
tion. In a preliminary survey of pre-Christian Pagan Ethics,
Dr. Luthardt gives a clear summary of his recently-published
sketch of Ancient Ethics, dealing especially with the Greek and
1 The only other good History of the subject yet available in English, is
that of Wuttke (Christian Ethics, vol. i . ) ; but not to speak of the hard and
mechanical style o f the translation, it is not so complete nor so rich in its
references to sources as the present work. The older German Histories of
Staudlin (1799-1823), Marheineke (1806), and De· Wette (1819) are now
superseded. Feuerlein (1857-1885), Neander (ed. by Erdmann, 1864), and
Wendt (1864) are still recognised as authorities. The more recent works of
Bestmann (1880, 1885). Gass (1881, 1886), and Ziegler (1886), have their
respective merits. Bestmann deals with the subject in greatest detail, and
his work is a nobly conceived and, so far as it has gone, a thoughtfully and
ably executed History o f the whole relations and development of Christian
M orality; Gass is luminous, concise, and catholic, and has some sections of
special value (such as his account o f the Ethics of the Byzantine Theology, of
which he is an acknowledged master); Ziegler writes from a philosophical
standpoint, and with force and elegance, but with no great depth, nor even
with much insight into the essence of the Christian Morality. Dr. Luthardt
has written his history in full view of the results of all these historians, and
the characterisation of his work here given is not an exaggerated one. The
translator may, however, be allowed to say that with all his appreciation of
the fidelity and accuracy o f the author’s particular expositions, he would
desiderate a broader standpoint o f criticism than the strict Lutheranism that
here determines most of the historical estimates, his own theological convictions
being founded on the theology o f the Reformed Church. This has only made
him the more anxious to give a faithful rendering of the original, and to
sacrifice nothing in the text to style or expression.
Roman Schools, and with the Ethics of Buddhism; and he
then proceeds through an exposition of the ethical develop
ment of ancient Israel in its three stages o f the moral doctrine
of the Old Testament, the particularistic nomism that followed
the canonical period, and the Hellenistic Universalism, to the
History of Christian Ethics proper. The distinctive character
and contents of the Ethics of the Hew Testament are then set
forth as enunciated and proclaimed in the Gospels and Epistles.
In dealing with Biblical Ethics, Dr. Luthardt follows the
principles and spirit of the vital and profound school of exegesis
to which he belongs; and the only objection that could be
taken to his treatment of the subject from his own point of
view, is his extreme brevity and condensation. The historical
development of Christian Ethics in the ancient and mediaeval
Church, is then delineated with the utmost care and conscien
tiousness. Hot a name or fact of real importance in the
historical movement has been left out of account, or passed
over unnoticed. The summaries and criticisms are always
clear and intelligible, and the selections and quotations from
the sources are very valuable. W e have here indeed “ a book
of good faith ” which is pre-eminently fitted as an historical
sketch for Students of Theology, and faithful study of it
cannot but further the best interests of theological science.
The study of the historical development of Christian Ethics
as a whole, is specially relevant and incumbent at the present
time in view of the negative and unsettling tendencies of the
critical movement and the growing need of regaining a
practical standpoint that will be at once secure in itself from
the destructive assaults of the new scientific conceptions, while
freed from the intellectual perplexities of the old dogmatic
position. And such study ought to lead not only to clearer
intellectual apprehension of the ethical movement, but to a
more living realization of the supreme excellence and worth
of the Christian life itself. As the Law of the Old Testament
was a παιδαγωγός efc Χ ριστόν, so the Law of Liberty in its
historic realization should lead the followers of it ultimately
to the essential righteousness. But here, too, there is much
blindness and prejudice and misunderstanding to be overcome,
and nothing has so surely overcome them as the large and
severe discipline of history. The student will therefore best
approach the subject through the scientific reflection of this
discipline; and in doing so he may well recall the maxim
which Augustine so earnestly lays down in reference to the
whole system of Christian truth: “ Purgandus est animus, ut
perspicere illam lucem valeat et inhserere perspectae.”
W . H.
E d in b u r g h , November 5, 1889.
CO N T EN T S .
SK E T C H OF P R E -C H R IS T IA N E T H IC S.
I. T H E E T H I C S O F A N C I E N T P A G A N IS M .
I. T he Popular E thical I deas of the G reeks

* PAGE
§ 1. Historical Development of the popular Ideae of
Morality, . . . . . . 4
1. T he Homeric Basis, . . . . 4
2. The Stadium of Reflection in the Gnomic
Literature, . . . . . 5
3. The highest popular M oral Reflection (Persian
W ars), . . . . . . 5
4. Beginning of its Dissolution in the A ge of Sub
jective Criticism, . . . . 6
II. T he Philosophical S ystems of E thics
§ 2. Socrates and Plato, . . . . . 7
§ 3. Aristotle, * . . . . 9
1. H is Psychological Basis, . . . . 9
2. Ethical V irtue and the Virtues, . . . 10
3. Friendship, . . . . . 10
4. The State, . . . . . 1 1
§ 4. Stoicism, . . . . . . 1 2
1. Epicurus, . . . . . . 13
2. Principle o f Stoicism, . . . . 13
3 -7 . Its natural U n iv e rsa lity ; A p a t h y ; Ideal of
the W ise M an, etc., . . . . 14
III. T he P opular M oral P h ilo so ph y :—
§ 5. Cicero and Seneca, . * . . . 1 4

§ 6. Epictetus. Marcus Aurelius, . . : . 1 7
Cynicism, . . . 18
xxi
IV . T hb I ssue of the A ncient M orality in the E thics
of M ysticism :—
§ 7. Neo-Pythagoreanism and Neo-Platonism, . . 19

Plutarch. Plotinus. The Issue, . . . 21
V. T he D ifference between the A ncient E thics and the

C hristian E thics :—
§ 8. The Limitations of the Ancient Ethics in contrast to

Christian Ethics, . . . . . 23
. 1. The Stages of the A ncient Ethics, . . 23
2. The Limitations of Relativity, Individualism,
and Naturalism, 1. . . . 2 4
. 3. The W a y of Legality and Knowledge, . . 24
4. The Principle of the A ncient Ethics : Pride, . 25
A ppendix .— B uddhism .
§ 9. Buddhism, . . . . . . 2 6
1. Buddha, . . . . . . 27
2. H is Doctrine, . . . . . 27
3. H is Ethic, . . . . . . 29
4. Criticism, . . . . . . 29 I.
II. T H E E T H IC S O F A N C IE N T IS R A E L .
I. T he E thics of the O ld T estament :—
§ 10. T he distinguishing Character o f the Ethics o f Israel, 33

1. The Naturalism and National Limitation of the
Heathen Ethics, . . . . 33
2. The Prerogative of Israel, . . . 34
3. The Character of the Revelation, . . . 34
4. The Ethical Significance of Israel, . . 35
§ 11. T he Ethical Conception of God in Israel, . . 36
1. The Monotheism of the Old Testament, . . 36
2. The Power of the W orld , . . . . 36
3. T he Personality of God, . . . . 37
4. The Gracious God, . . . . 38
5. T he Holiness of God, . . · . . 3 8
6. The Justice of God, . . . . 39
7. T he W isdom of God, . . . . 40
§ 12. The Covenant-relationship, . . . . 40

1. The Covenant, . . . . . 42
2. Election b y God, . . . . 43
3. T he Fatherhood o f Jehovah and the Sonsliip of
Israel, . . . . . .
PAGE
4. Israel as God’s own holy and priestly People, . 43
5. The Particularism of Israel, . . . 44
6. The Obedience of Faith, . . . . 44
13. The Law, . . . . . . 4 4
1. The Law as a Revelation of Grace, . . 45
2. The Law as Commandment, . . . 45
3. The Law as Prophecy, . . . . 46
4. The Decalogue, . . . . . 46
5. The Internal Movement of the Decalogue, . 46
6. The Hum ane Character of the Ο. T . Legislation, 48
7. Relation to the Holiness of God and the Sin of
the People, . . . 51
8. The D w elling of God in Israel, . . . 51
9. The Sacrifices, . . . . . 52
10. The Regulations for maintaining Purity, . 52
11. The Community as w holly belonging to God, . 53
§ 14. The Internalization of the Law, . . . 53
'1. Deuteronomy, . . . . . 53
2. The Psalms, . . . . . 54
3. The Prophets, . . . . . 55
4. The Oppposition between the Law and Reality, . 56
II. T he Particularistic N omism :—

§ 15. Its beginning in the Post-Canonical Interval, . 57
X. The Particularistic and Nom istic Danger at the
close of the Canonical Period, . . . 58
2. The false Nationalism o f the Apocryphal Litera
ture, . . . . . . 59
3. External Nom ism , . . . . 60
§ 16. The Pharisaic Nomism, . . . 6 1

1. The Nomocracy, . . . . . 61
2. The Pharisees, . . . . . 62
3. Righteousness of W orks, . . . . 62
4. The national Particularism, . . . 63
5. The Naturalising of M orality, . . . 63
§ 17. The Essene Asceticism, . . . . 64
1. The Essenes, . . . . . 64
2. The Negative and Ascetic Character of their
Righteousness by W orks, . . . 65
3·. The Point of V iew of Priestly Purity, . . 65
4. Foreign Influences, . . . . 66
III. T he H ellenistic U niversalism :—
§ 18. Transition to the False Universalism, . . 67

1. The true Universalism of Israel, . . . 67
2. The Cosmical Turn of Thought, . . . 67
PAOE
3. Influences and M otives, . . . . 68

4. The Old Testament Apocrypha, . . . 68
§ 19. The Philonic Universalism, . . . . 69

1. The Fusion of the Jewish and Hellenic Modes of
Thought, . . . . . . 70
2. The Universalism of Philo’s Moral Doctrine, . 71
3. The Ascetic Character o f Philo’s Ethics, . . 71
4. The Therapeutic Ideal, . . . . 73
HISTORY OF CHRISTIAN ETHICS.
THE ETHICS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.
I. T he Proclamation of the T ruth in the G ospels : —
§ 20. The Realization o f Communion and Fellowship with

God in Christ’s Person and W o rk , . . 77
1. Christ as the Goal o f the preceding H istory o f the
Old Testament, . . . . . 7 7
2. T he Person of Jesus Christ, . . . 78
3. The W ord of Jesus Christ, . . . 79
4. The W o rk of Christ, . . . . 79
5. T he new Relationship of God to M en in the
Father-relationship, . . . . 80
§ 21. The Human Answrer of Faith, . . . 80

1. The Requirement of Faith, . . . 80
2. T he essential Nature of Faith, . . . 81
3. T he Operation of Faith, . . . . 82
§ 22. The new Disposition of Faith, . . . 82

1. The new Relationship between God and M an
historically realized in Christ and appropriated
by Man through Faith, . . . 82
2. Love the Manifestation of Faith, . . . 83
3. T h e Position of Jesus towards the Law, . . 85
4. Independence of the moral Sphere and Inward
ness of the personal Life, . . . 86
§ 23. T he new Order o f things in the K ingdom of God, . 87

• 1. The Kingdom of God, . . . . 87
2. T he Essence of the Kingdom of God, . . 87
3. The Universalism o f its Destination, . . 88
4. Objections to the moral Doctrine of Jesus by
Strauss and Ziegler, . . . 8 8
II. T he A postolical Proclamation :—
PAGE
§ 24. The Jewish-Christian Proclamation, . . . 94

1. The common Evangelical Basis, . . . 94
2. The Jewish-Christian Proclamation, . . 95
§ 25. The Gentile-Christian Proclamation, . . . 96

1. Paul’s Calling, . . . . . 96
2. The Slavery of the Heathen W o rld under Sin, . 97
3. The Slavery of Israel under the Law, . . 97
4. The new Relationship of Liberty in Christ, . 98
5. Sanctification, . . . . . 98
6. The Service of Love, . . . . 99
7. The H eavenly Sense, . . . . 100
8 . Obedience to the Earthly O rders,. . . 101
9. Common M oral Practice requisite, . . 102
§ 26. The Johannine Proclamation, . . . 102

1. Libertine Antinomianism, . . . 102
2. Christianity as Ii/toXij, . . . . 103
3. The Contents of this Commandment, . . 104
I. THE ETHICS OF THE ANCIENT CHURCH.
I. T he E thics of the P ost-A postolic C h u r c h :—
§ 27. The blunted Paulinism of the Post-Apostolic Church, 107

1. Moral R eality and Truth, . . . 107
. 2. The early Obscuration of the Pauline N otion w ith
Aberration towards Moralism and Nom ism , . 108
3. T his Aberration not unconnected w ith Paul
himself, . . . . . . 109
4. Heathen Influences, . . . . 110
5. Jewish Influences, . . . . Ill
§ 28. The oldest Post - Apostolic Formulation of Moral

Doctrine in the “ Teaching of the Twelve Apostles,” 112
1. The Need of Formulation, . . . 113
2. The “ Teaching of the Twelve Apostles,” . 113
3. The T w o W ays, . . . . . 115
§ 29. The Apostolic Fathers, . . . . 1 1 8

1. The (First) Epistle of Clement of Rome to. the
Corinthians, . . . . . 1 1 9
2. The so-called Second Epistle o f Clement, . 120
3. The Epistle of Barnabas, . . . . 121
4. The Ignatian Epistles, . . . . 1 2 2
5. The Epistle of Polycarp to the Philippians, . 123
6. The Epistle to Diognetus, . . . 124
7. The Shepherd of Hermas, . . . 125
II. T he E thics of the G reek Church
§ 30. The Ethics of the Apologists of the Second Century, 128

. 1. Justin Martyr, . . . . . 128
2. Tatian, . . . . . . 132
3. Athenagoras. Theophilus, . . . 133
§ 31. The Ethics of the Alexandrian Theology, .. . 134

1. Clement of Alexandria, . . . . 1 3 5
. . H is “ Exhortation,” . . . . 135
H is Paedagogus, . . . . . 136
H is Stromata, . . . . . . 1 4 1
H is τίς ο σωζόμ,ζνος ττλονσ/ο?; . . . 143
§ 32. The Ethics of the Alexandrian Philosophy, . . 144
2. Origen, . . . . . . 144
Contents of his Ethical W ritings, . . 145
Extracts from his Treatise on Prayer, . . 146
Extracts from his Treatise on M artyrdom, . 148
H is Representation of the Ascetic Element, . 148
Methodius, . . . . . . 1 5 0
Gregory Thaumaturgus, . . . 151
§ 33. The Gnostic Ethics, * . . . . .151

1. The Heathen Root of Gnosticism, . . 152
2. The Idea of Redemption, . . . . 153
3. The Moral Task, . . . . . 154
4. Evidences o f Gnosticism in the Tim e o f the
Apostles, . . . . . 154
5. Individual Gnostics of the Post-Apostolic Tim e, 155
Basilides, . . . . . 155
Valentinus. Bardesanes. Saturninus. Carpo-
crates. Epiphanes, . . . . 1 5 6
6. Marcion, . . . . . . 157
A ppendix .— M anich êism .
§ 34. The Monastic and M ystico-Ascetic Ideal in the Ethics

of the Greek Church, . . . . 150
1. The Ascetics of the first Centuries, . . 160
2. The Eremites, . . . . . 161
3. Monastic Unions, . . . . . 1 6 2
4. The M onkish Ideal, . . .. . 163
§ 35. The Representatives of the Ascetic Ideal in the Greek

Church, . . · . . 163
1. Athanasius, . . . . 1 6 3
2. Jacob Aphraates, . . . . . 166
3. Ephrem the Syrian, . . . . 1 6 6
4. Basil the Great, . . . . . 1 6 7
5. Gregory of Nys s a, . . . . . 168
6. Gregory of Nazianzum, . . *· . . 170
PAGE
7. Marcarius the Great, . . . . 1 7 0

Evagrius. Nilus, . . . 171
8. Chrysostom, . . . . . 1 7 2
9. Isidore of P elu siu m ,' . . . . 1 7 3
10. John K lim akus. Moscus. Sophronius, ; 174
11. M axim us Confessor, . . . . 176
12. Dionysius Areopagita, . . . . 1 7 7
13. John of Damascus, . . . . 1 7 7
Concluding Judgment, . . . . 178
III. T he E thics op the W estern Ch u r c h : —

§ 36. The Ethics of the W estern Church in their distinction
from the Ethics of the Greek Church. The Period
of its Foundation, . . . . 179
1. Irenseus, . . . . . . 179
§ 37. The Ethics of the W estern Church in the time of its
Foundation, . . . . . 182
2. Tertullian, * . . . . 1 8 2
H is Ethical W ritings, . . . . 183
The Principle of Christian M orality the W ill
of G o d , .............................................................. 184
• H is Accentuation of the Opposition to the W orld , 185
Passages from his W ork s, . . . 187
§ 38. T h e Ethics o f the W estern Church in the tim e o f its

Foundation, . . . . . . . 190
3. Cyprian, . . . . . . 1 9 0
H is W ritings, . . . . . 191
H is Fundamental Thought the U n ity o f the
Church, . . . . . 192
Passages from his W ritings, . . . 192
§ 39. The Ethics o f the W estern Church in the time o f its
Foundation, . . . . . 194
4. M inucius Felix. Lactantius. Zeno, . . 194
1. T he Octavius of Minucius F elix, . . 194
2. Lactantius, hie W ritings, . . . 1 9 5
O n the highest G o o d ; Virtue ; Ju stice;
P ie t y ; E q u it y ; Celibacy, . . 197
3. Zeno of Verona, ‘ 203
Ascendancy, . . . . . 205
1. Ambrose, . . . . . . 206
H is W ritings, especially his De officiis, . 207
Distinction between Perfect and Imperfect
Duties, . . . . . 208
On Celibacy, . . . . . 209
On Private Property and A lm s, . . 210
2. Jerome, . . . . . . 212
H is W ritings, . . . . . 212
The Representative of Monasticism, . . 213
Passages from his W ritings on Monasticism, . 214

3. Augustine, . . . . . 221
H is W ritings, . . . . . 221
H is Fundamental T h o u g h t: the Goal of M an is
U n ion with God as the Summum Bonum, . 222
H is Conception of Being, . . . 223
The Moral Attitude of Love, . . . 224
V iew of Grace, . . . . . 225
The Relations of the Natural Life, . . 226
H is V iew of the St at e, . . . . 227
On E arthly Possessi on, . . . . 228
Marriage and V irgin ity, . . . 229
H is Conception of Christian Perfection, . 230

4. Pelagius, . . . . . 232
§ 44. The fruitless Opposition, . . . . 234

1. Jovinian, . . . . . . 234
2. H elvidius, . . . . . 235
3. Vigilantius. Aerius, . . . . 235
§ 45. Representatives of the Ascetic Ideal, . . . 236

1. Rufinus, . . . . . . 236
Sulpicius Severus, . . . . 237
2. John Cassian, . . . . . 238
3. Prudentius, . . . . . 240
4. Orientius, . . . . . . 241
5. Leo the Great, . . . . . 242
6. A vitu s. Gennadius, . . . . 242
7. Benedict o f Nursia, . . . . 243
8. Cassiodorius, . . . . . 243
9. Martin of Bracara, . . . . 244
§ 46. The Conclusion of the Ethics o f the W estern Church

in Gregory the Great, . . . . 246
Gregory the Great, his W orks, . . . 246
H is chief Interest the Government o f the
W orld b y the Church, . . . 246
Brought Monasticism into the Service o f the
Church, . 246
PAGE
H is Ethics. On the principal Vices and Virtues, 247

H is Description o f the Righteous M an, . 248
On Penitence and Good W orks, . . 250
§ 47. The Summing and Transmitting o f Results b y Isidore

of Seville and Boethius, . . . . 251
1. Isidore, . . . . . . 251
The four Cardinal Virtues, . . . 2 5 1
The principal Christian Virtues, . . 252
V irtue and Vice, . . . . 253
H is fundamental Tendency Ascetic, . . 254
2. Boethius, . . . . . . . 2 54
§ 48. The M oral State of the Ancient Church, . . 256

1. T he Cultivation of Charity, . . . 257
2. The Relation to Sl avery, 1) . . . . 259
3. Taxation and U sury, . . . . 2 60
4. Troubles of the Tim e, . . . . 261
5. T he Monastery in the W est, . . . 263
6. Position o f the Church during the going down of
the Ancient W orld , . . . . 263
7. T he Christian Society of Rome, . . . 265
8. State of the Provinces, . . . . 266
W ritings of Orosius and Salvianus, . . 267
§ 49. The Church Discipline, . . . . 2 70

1. The Synodal Canons, . . . . 271
2. The so-called Apostolical Constitutions, . . 271
3. The Apostolical Canons. Apostolic Church Order, 273
4. Canons of Gregory Thaumaturgus and Basil the
Great, . . . . . . 274
5. The Penitential Books, . . . . 2 74
6. Some of the Ordinances of the Church Law, . 275
Struggle against the Remainders of Heathenism, 275
Against the Shows and Plays, . . . 276
Celebration o f S u n d a y ,. . . 276
Murder and H o m ic id e ,. . . . 277
Duties of the Clergy^ . . . . 277
Marriage and the Sexual Life, . . . 279
Legal Character of the W estern Church, . 281
II. THE ETHICS OF THE CHURCH OF THE MEDDLE

AGES.
§ 50. General Character of Mediaeval Ethics, . . 285
1. The Historical Task of the Church of the Middle
Ages in the W est,
2. T he Canon Law, . . . . . 286
3. The Popular Treatment of Morals, . . 286
4. The Scientific Treatment of Morals, . . 287
5. The Ethics o f Mysticism, . . . . . 287
§ 51. The Collections of Canons and the Penitential Books, 288

1. T he Ecclesiastical Training through the Confes
sional and the Episcopal Visitations, . . 288
2. Collections of Canons, . . . . 288
Dionysius Exiguus. Fulgentius. Ferrandus.
Cresconius. Martin of Bracara, . . 290
Gratian, . . . . 291
3. Penitential Books and Suramse, . . . 292
4. Certain special Determinations of Church Law, . 294
O f Heathenism, Jews, Heretics, Clergy, . 294
Simony. Monastic Orders. Nunneries, . 295
The Poor. W idow s. Marriage. Duelling.
Capital Punishment. Suicides, . . 296
§ 52. The Pre-Scholastic Treatment of Ethics, . . 297

1. The Venerable Bede, . . . . 297
A ldh elm , . . . . . 298
2. Alcuin, . . . . . . 299
3. Halitgarius. Jonas of Orleans, . . . 300
Smaragdus, . . . . . 302
4. Rabanus Maurus, . . . . . 303
Paschasius Radbertus. H inkm ar of Rheims, . 304
5. Scotus Erigena, . . . . . 305
6. Ratlierius of Verona. Hermann of Reichenau, . 306
Hildebert of Tours, . . . . 307
7. Peter Damiani, . . . . . 308
Fulbert of Chartres. Peter of Blois. Peter
o f Celle, . . . . . 309
§ 53. Ethics in the Beginning of the Scholastic Period, . 310

1. Anselm , . . . . . . 311
H is Theory of the Atonement. H is Ethical
Views, . . . . . 312

2. Abelard, . . . . . . 315
H is Accentuation o f the Disposition. The Lex
Naturalis, . . . . . 316

3. The Mysticism o f Bernard of C la irv a u x ,. . 318
The Theology of Pious Inwardness, . . 319
Grace and Merit. Monasticism. The Double
W ay, . . . . . . 320
. Love. C ontem plation,. . * 322
PAGE
§ 56. Ethics in the Progress of Mysticism, . . . 325
The Mystics of St. Victor, . . . . 325
1. Hugo o f St. Victor, . . . . . 326
2. Richard of St. Victor, . . . . . 327
3. W alter of St. Victor, . . . . 327
§ 57. The Ethics o f Scholasticism in the Beginning of its

H eight, . . . . . . 329
1. Petrus Lombardus, . . . . 329
2. Alexander of Hales, . . . . 331
3. Bonaventura, . . . . . 331
4. Albertus Magnus, . . . . . 332
§ 58. The Ethics of Scholasticism at its height in Thomas

Aquinas, . . . . . . 333
1. T he W ritin gs of Thomas Aquinas, . . 333
2 -3 . T he U ltim ate E nd of H um an Life, .' . 334
4. Liberty ; Primacy of Knowledge ; Aifectus ;
Habitus, . . . . * 335
5. Three Classes of V irtu es: Moral, Intellectual, and
Theological, . . . . . 336
6. The Theological Virtues, . . . . 337
7. The common Character of the Virtues, . . 338
8. Sin and Guilt, . . . . . 338
9. The Law and the Counsels of the N . T ., . . 339
10. Justice and Natural La w, . . . . 341
11. Preference of the Contemplative Life, . . 342
12. The S ta te ,. . . . . . 343
13. T he Papal Power, . . . . 344
. 14. V iew o f the whole System, . . . . 344
15. T h o m ists: W illia m o f Paris, Perault, Antoninus, 345
§ 59. Ethics in the Beginning of the Dissolution of Scho

lasticism, . . . . .* . 346
1. ’Duns Scotus, ' . . . 347
2. John of Salisbury, . . . . 348
Vincent of Beauvais, . . . . 349
Raym und of Sabunde, . . . . 349
§ 60. Ethics in the A g e of Nominalism , . ./ . 350

. 1. Nominalism , . . . . . . 350
2. W illia m of Occam, . . . . 350
Peter D ’A illy and Gerson, . .. 3 5 1
• 3. Casuistics, . · . . · . . . 352
§ 61. The German M ysticism, . . . . 353

1. Master Eckhart, . . . . . 354
2. Tauler, . . . . . . 356
3. The Following o f the Poor Life of Christ, . 358
4. Suso, . . . . . . 359
, PAGE
5. Ruysbroek, . . . . . 361
6. Thomas a Kem pis, . . . . 362
7. T h e German Theology, . . . . 363
8. Staupitz, . . . . . . 364
§ 62. T he Thought of the Follow ing of the Life of Jesus, . 365

T he Greek Church, . . . . . 365
T he W estern Church, . . . . 366
§ 63. T h e Franciscan Reform, .. . . . 368

1. Francis of Assisi, . . . . . 368
2. The Tertiarians, . . . . . 368
3. Conflict between Postulate and Possibility, . 369
§ 64. The prevailing M oral V iew and Attitude, . . 370

1. The Monastic Ideal, . . . . 370
2. Attitude towards the W o rld of Creation, . 371
3. T he Idea of Perfection. lVilliam of St. Am our, 372
4. T he Exercise of Christian Charity, . . 373
§ 65. The Secular Morality, . . . . 375

1. Collision between the Ascetic Ideal and its
Representatives, . . . . 375
Gerhoh of Reichersberg, . . . 375
2. T he Crusades, . . . . . 376
3. T h e popular Literature. Troubadours. W alter.
Freidank. Parcival, . . . . 376
4. N ew Tasks of real Life, . . . . 377
§ 66. Oppositional Tendencies and Efforts at Reform, . 379

1. Attem pts to reform the Church on the basis o f
the Ecclesiastical A uthority, . . . 380
2. Dualistic Tendencies. Paulicians. Bogomils.
Cathari, . . . . . . 380
3. Antinom ian Tendencies on a Pantheistic Basis, . 381
Amalrich of Bena. Brothers and Sisters of the
Free Spirit, . . . . . 381
Ortliebians. Beghards and Beguins, . . 382
4. The Waldenses, . . . . . 382
5. Precursors of the Reformation. W iclif. H us, . 384
6. John of Goch. John W essel, . . . 386
§ 67. Humanism, . . . . . . 387

. Dante. Petrarca. The Italian and German
Humanism, . . . . . 387
The Influence of Humanism, . . . 388
HISTORY OF CHRISTIAN ETHICS.
YOL. i. A.
LITERATURE.
G. T . M eier , Introductio in universum theologiae moralis cum dog

maticae tum pragmaticae studium, Helmst. 1661. J. F. M ayer ,
Bibliotheca scriptorum theologiae moralis et conscientiariae, along with
A eg. S trauchii theol. mor., Greifsw. 1705. S cheurlii Bibliographia
moralis, Helmst. 1686, ed. 2. T . G. W alchii Bib. theol. selecta, t. ii.
pp. 1 0 7 1 -1 18 2. B uddeus , Isagoge historico - theologica ad theologiam
universam singulasque eius partes, Lips. 1727, pp. 6 1 0 -7 3 0 . Staudlin ,
Gescli. der Sittenl. Jesu, 4 Bde. Gott. 1 7 9 9 -1 82 3. Gesch. der christl.
Moral seit dem Wiederaufleben der Wissenschaften, 1808. W ith a series
of separate Monographs (on Oaths, Marriage, Conscience). Schleier -
macher , Grundlinien einer K ritik der bisherigen Sittenlehre, Berlin
1803. M arh eineke , Gesch. der christl. Moral, 1 T h . 1806. De
W ette, Christl. Sittenlehre, 2 Th. 1819. Lehrbuch der cliristl. Sittenl.
1833. F euerlein , Die Sittenlehre des Christenthums in ihren geschichtl.
Hauptformen, T iib. 1885. Die pliilos. Sittenlehre in ihren gesch.
Hauptformen, 2 Tlieile, Tub. 1857, 59. N eander , Vorless. iiber die
Gesch. der christl. Ethik. Herausg. v. Erdmann, Berlin 1864. W endt,
Einleitung in die Ethik, Leipz. 1864. W uttke-S chultze, Handb. der
christl. Sittenlehre, i., 3 Aufl. Leipz. 1874, S. 1 7-24 2 . [Christian Ethics,
by Dr. A d o lf W uttk e, translated b y John P. Lacroix, vol. i. History
o f Ethics, Edin ., Clark, 1873.]D orner , Protest. R eal-Encykl., 2 Aufl.
W erner (Cathol.), System der christl. Ethik, i., Regens.
iv. 3 5 5 -3 7 0 .
1850, S. 1 5 -9 9 . B estmann , Gesch. der christl. Sitte, i. Nordl. 1880
(Pre-christ- Israel. C hristenth.); ii. 1885 (The Catholic side of the Ancient
Church). Gass , Gesch. der christl. Ethik, i. (to the Reformation),
Berl. 1 8 8 1 ; ii. 1 (16 and 17 Cent.) 1 8 8 6 ; ii. 2. T heob . Z iegler ,
Gesch. der christl. E thik, Strassb. 1886 (to the pietist, and jesuit.
Ethics).
SKETCH OF PRE-CHRISTIAN ETHICS.
I.
THE ETHICS OF ANCIENT PAGANISM .1
C h r is t ia n E t h ic s has its proper preliminary history in the

Israel of the Old Testament. But manifold relations are also
found existing between the ethical reflection and exposition of
the ancient Church and the ancient Pagan Ethics, especially
in the philosophical Schools; and the influence o f these rela
tions continued to show itself in later times, especially in the
moral system of the Roman Church. A preliminary survey
of the Ethics of pagan antiquity, as well as of the Ethics of
ancient Israel, ought therefore to precede a special History of
Christian Ethics. Having treated of the ancient Pagan Ethics
from this point of view in another work as an introduction to
the History of Christian Ethics,12 under reference to it, this
introductory sketch will be limited to a concise survey of
pre-Christian Ethics, and to an indication of the characteristic
distinction between the ancient pagan views of Ethics and the
moral doctrine of Christianity.
1 L iterature. — On the popular ideas of Morality: N agelsbach, Homer-

ische Theologie, 3 Aufl. v. Autenrieth, Niirnb. 1884. Nachhomerische
Theologie, 1857. L. Schmidt, Die Ethik der alten Griechen, i. ii. 1882.
On the Philosophical Systems of Ethics: The relevant parts of the Histories of
Ancient Philosophy by Brandis, Z eller (Schwegler, Erdmann), and others.
More particularly: T. Z iegler, Die Ethik der Griechen, 1881. Luthardt ,
Dio antike Ethik in ihrer geschichtl. Entwicklung als Einleitung in die
Geschichte der christlichen Moral dargestellt, Leipz. 1887 (187 S.).
2 Luthardt, Die antike Ethik, etc., u.s. 1887.
I. T he P opular E t h ic a l I deas of th e G reeks.
§ 1. Historical development o f the popular ideas o f morality.
The Homeric poems exhibit the basis of the prevailing

moral way of thinking. They reminded mortal man, in his
dependence on the higher Powers, of his limitations. This
continued to be the foundation of the moral thinking of the
people, even when, in the period of the gnomic literature,
reflection was applied to the consideration of the requirements
of the civil and political life of the people, and to the neces
sity of mutual restraint and the observance of regulated rela
tions. The culmination of the Greek life which began with
the Persian wars, carried the reflecting spirit of the time
through the great historical experiences to a higher stage in
the moral contemplation of human things, and the moral ideal
was comprehended in the notion of the καΚοκάηαθία. At
length the subjective criticism which took form from the time
of the Peloponnesian war, dissolved the traditional basis of the
moral habit of thinking, and it imposed on philosophy the
task of substituting for the old traditional views new founda
tions for the moral life of the community evolved out of the
proper rational thinking of the individual.1
1. The Homeric basis.— The ancient pagan ethics is ess

tially naturalistic, and in this it corresponds to the naturalistic
character of the pagan religions. In Homer and from his
time, it is not the moral personality which constitutes the
v subject of morality, but the mortal finite man as dependent on
the higher Powers. Accordingly, morality here consists essen
tially in the recognition of this dependence, as well as of the
limitations which are imposed by practice and law on the
individual in relation to others, through the life of man in
society. The Homeric man knows no duty of love either
towards the gods or to man as such* Accordingly, sin is not
the violation of any such duty, but is a disregard of the limita
tions and orders of the common life presented in customary
observance and legal right; and it is regarded as occasioned by
an obscuration of the understanding, or by some delusion
having an external source, and not as caused by a personal
perversion of the will to evil. In correspondence with this
fundamental view of man, death appears as the final power of
life. Death does not permit the attainment of a full enjoy
ment of existence; it throws a gloomy shadow over life, and
finally relegates man to resignation.
2. The stage of reflection in the moral gnomic literature
begins with Hesiod (c. 800), in his epya καί ήμέραι. Hesiod
reflects on civil society as organized into classes, and
his standpoint is that of the common citizen. He finds'
morality in reciprocal justice in so far as it repays like with
like, while immorality is represented as consisting of the arro
gance which violates legal right. Such thoughts as these
recur, although to some extent in a higher mode of apprehen
sion, in the subsequent elegiac writers, in the Aphorisms
which are collected under the name of Theognis, and in the
(Delphic) Sayings of the so-called seven Wise Men.
3. The popular moral reflection reached its highest point
in consequence of the experiences of the Persian wars.
These wars familiarized the popular mind with the thought
of a divine providence (πρόνοια,), which was essentially
viewed as punitive justice (δράσαντι παθβΐν), and which at
the same time was opposed to arrogance, or even to excess of
happiness, which was regarded as the envy of the deity.
Hence morality here also pre-eminently consists in recogni
tion of man’s natural and civil limitations. The σωφροσύνη
of the άνηρ μέτριος is not internal sanctification, but only the
limitation of nature to the measure prescribed by the life of
the community and by reason ; and in this the δικαιοσύνη of
the suum cuique tribuere also exhibits itself in relation to an
enemy. Under the point of view of this δικαιοσύνη, are also
placed gratitude and mercifulness towards the helpless; and
thus we have always a morality of the deed and not of the
doer, while along with these bright sides deep shadows like
wise appear. The standard of action is given in the political
community by which the value of the individual in the social
relations of life, as well as his conduct, is measured. The
expression of the corresponding morality is the καΧοκαηαθία;
it is the practice of the δικαιοσύνη as determined by the
recognition of the measure and limit of the σωφροσύνη in the
manifold relations of the common political life. This is not
a morality which presents an Ideal standing above the indi
vidual as the higher truth so that it may be fashioned into
reality; but it is the legality of life as given with the natural
living itself and more precisely determined by the political
order. And hence it does not demand an internal conquest of
the proper self of the individual, and a renovation of the ulti
mate ground of the inward man, but only a limitation of his
natural externalizations on the given basis of natural existence,
in order that the collective life may thus shape itself har
moniously and beautifully. The opposite of this is formed by
νβρις. Its opposition to the regulating powers of the life of
the community is folly and want of understanding, from which
indeed all men suffer,— a condition which is recognised as a
fact of experience. The basis of this condition is partly deter
mined by nature, and is found partly in infatuation. The
evil deed, however, is imputed to the doer in the conscience
and in his consciousness of guilt. This finds a comprehensive
recognition in the poets and historians, and it is actually
realized in punishment.
4. The dissolution of this moral reflection begins with the
period of subjective criticism. Prior to this period, the agree
ment of the traditional practice of the people with reason
was assumed as self-evident; but from the time of the
Peloponnesian war and the age of the Sophists, subjective
criticism became prevalent, and it applied the standard of
individual thinking to ethical questions. The traditional
views were thus decomposed, as may be seen in Euripides,
the favourite poet of the Athenian youth. It thus became
necessary to attempt to oppose the right reason to this false
reason, in order thus to obtain a new basis for morality.
This was the task which philosophy set to itself from the
time of Socrates.
/
II. T h e P h il o s o p h ic a l S y s t e m s of E t h ic s .
§ 2. Socrates and Plato.
Socrates sought to establish rationally the supremacy of

morality by means of induction and definition. Thereby he
initiated that Intellectualism which continued to rule the
subsequent Moral Philosophy. Virtue is right insight, and
therefore knowledge; sin is ignorance; the norm of the moral
is the law of the State. What is moral is therefore affected
with the limitation of relativity, and is kept within the bounds
of the usual national way of thinking. Plato continued to
make the intellect the starting-point of Ethics, while at the
same time he expanded the thoughts of Socrates into a
systematic whole. He raised the intellectual conception into
the objective essence of the Idea; and in the Idea he beheld
the true reality, which comes only more or less to manifesta
tion in the empirical material reality. The highest Idea of
the Good is actualized in the four psychologically grounded
principal Virtues, and it has to realize itself in the State.
Although the State is construed from the standpoint of the
Idea, yet it cannot be carried out correspondingly in reality.
In this domination of the thought of the State, and in various
limitations of the national ethical views, we have a revelation
of the Hellenic mind, while in the irreconcilable dualism of
Idea and reality, spirituality and sense, we have also evidence
of the impotence of the ancient Pagan spirit generally. The
element of truth presented by the ancient spirit in Plato only
consists in his being the prophecy of a morally apprehended
antithesis, and of the higher overcoming of it by Divine
revelation and influence.1
1. Socrates consciously abandoned the preceding philosophy

of nature, and made the actual life presented in human society
the object of philosophy. In doing so he sought to justify
and purify the traditional contents of the moral reflection by
conceptional thinking in opposition to the dissolving theory
of the Sophists, and to found it upon reason itself. In the
conceptions which he obtained by induction and definition, he
believed that he became possessed of things themselves, so
that he defined virtue to be a teachable mode of knowing,
with which was also given the ability to perform it. But as
the good is that which corresponds to an end, it is likewise in
his view the useful; and this prevents him from coming to
the pure conception of the good. Although it was his desire
to make his philosophy serviceable to the common political
life, yet his emphasizing of the intellectual factor made any
influence of it upon the collective life of the people impossible.
2. This supremacy of the intellect is likewise found in
Plato. Virtue is insight, and sin accordingly is want of
knowledge; only it has to be observed that in Plato’s view
knowing is not mere conception, but has a real content in the
ideas or spiritual essences, of which the highest is that of the
good.— Hence the highest good is flight out of this world
of sense and corporeity into that other world of spirituality
or deity. In this sense it is the greatest possible resem
blance to God (ρμοίωσις θεω κατά, το δυνατόν) by means of
virtue and philosophical insight. Spirituality and morality,
desensualization and moralization, are therefore apprehended
as identical; and hence the specific conception of the moral
in its natural freedom is not attained.— Morality as thus appre
hended separates into four virtues which are psychologically
established in accordance with the tripartite division of the
life of the human soul (λογιστικόν, θυμός, επιθυμητικόν).
These four virtues are σοφία, άνδρία, σωφροσύνη, δικαιοσύνη,
the last of which is the harmony of the whole, arising from
the limitation of the several parts of the soul to the task
pertaining to each. With this Ethic are connected many
of the limitations of the Hellenic way of thinking in the
questions relating to paederasty, unchastity and marriage, and
slavery, as well as the ancient heartlessness and the ancient
prejudice against labour. The moral idea has to find its
realization in the State, which, however, being construed by
Plato according to the philosophical idea, was sketched as an
ideal which was not able to find its realization in the natural
order of things, and which only obtained the'significance of a
prophecy of an order of things which could not be actualized
in a natural way. Plato’s ideal of the State thus became
a presentiment of the Kingdom of God.— The transcendent
Idea, according to Plato, was to be the power of healing,
and renovating the reality, and it was to serve as a Θερα
πεία ψυχής, όπως δτι βέλτιστοι οι πολΐται ώμεν. It accord
ingly remains an abstraction in contrast to reality, and
the individual can only rise by thinking to this abstraction
by withdrawing himself in the spirit out of the reality of
sense. In place of the moral antithesis there here comes in
the natural opposition of the spiritual and the sensual, and
the moral process appears as spiritualization and desensualiza-
tion. But this under the appearance of moral truth is a
perversion of it. Under that appearance, and with the
pretence of being identical with the Christian antagonism of
spirit and flesh, it also afterwards pressed into the sphere of
the thought of the Church, and perverted it.
§ 3. Aristotle.
In distinction from the idealism of Plato, Aristotle puts

himself in his exposition of the ethical virtues upon the basis
of the concrete life. In his Nicomachian Ethics he dis
tinguishes the dianoetic virtues of the philosopher from the
common ethical virtues, and keeps himself within the limits
of what is possible to man. In doing so he substitutes for
the Socratico-Platonic principle of knowledge in the sphere of
the ethical virtues as distinguished from the dianoetic virtues,
the principle of practice and habituation. He starts from the
question as to whether happiness (ευδαιμονία) is the highest
good. He finds this to be so on the ground that what is
distinctive of man consists in the rational soul, and pre
eminently in the activity which is determined by reason as
the immanent teleology of m an; and this rational acting is
at the same time what is virtuous. Such acting corresponds
to reason, and it consists in every individual case in the
observing of the mean between extremes. The relation to
the political life which has to be the regulating point of view
for all action, furnishes the duties of the various spheres of
life. This lends a political character to ethics and makes it
a constituent part of politics.
1. The 'psychological basis.— In the sphere of action, the

End is regulative, and the highest End is the highest good.
Now, according to common agreement, this is happiness.
Happiness, however, is not to be defined as Plato does by a
transcendent idea of the good, but by the nature of man.
As the distinguishing characteristic of man, however, is his
rational soul, and as his proper function is therefore rational
activity, it is in this accordingly that his happiness consists.
Further, man is a rational and sensible being, and in him
there is thus an irrational part (aXoyov) opposed to the
rational part (\6yov %χον). This irrational element being
partly vegetative, is so far entirely without relation to reason;
but as active desire it stands partly in relation to reason, in
so far as it can obey or resist it. Thus the pure rational
dianoetic virtues, as the higher virtues of the divine philo
sophic life, are separated from the ethical virtues of the
common human practical life ; and for these it is not
knowledge which is the principle, but willing (βούλησις)
which belongs to desire (δρεξις). Here too, then, knowing
is set over willing or desire. And as desire belongs to the
sensible side of man, but is the principle of “ ethical ” acting,
the naturalistic character of morality also remains in this
system. For, morality only consists in the sensible desire
letting itself be determined by reason as that which posits
the end, in order thus to realize the idea of the good.
2. Ethical virtue and the virtues.— The ethical virtue, in
distinction from the dianoetic virtue of the pure reason, is
acquired by exercise and habit (ήθος from Ζθος). The
supremacy of reason which is acquired in this way authenti
cates itself in the observance of the mean (το μέσον), so that
the essence of virtue consists in this. The mean, however,
does,not determine itself according to a real principle, but
empirically, according to the moral tact and judgment of the
intelligent, and according to the law of the State which trains
the individual to such moral tact, so that ethics is thus
politically determined. Morality and custofii, morality and
right, are here still undistinguished.— From the consideration
of the various relations and circles there arise the individual
ethical virtues, the highest of which is “ virtue towards another ”
as such; and therefore the chief virtue of the civil life is
Justice. Justice is partly distributive justice which deals with
the distribution of honour and possession, and therefore more
especially with the sphere of the public life and its rightful
relationships; and partly it is retributive justice which has to
regulate the civil relations of buying and selling and such
like, as well as those of theft, adultery, bodily injury, man
slaughter, robbery, etc. The political point of view is there
fore exclusively the standard for the guidance of the moral
judgment; and so the special world of moral being is not
yet discovered. The Aristotelian series of virtues is therefore
wanting in the specifically CHristianT virtues^ of humility,
resignation, patience, hope, as well as of gratitude, selfless- ,
ness, sacrifice, and above all, love. This civil point of view
covers the relationship of man to man, and therefore it does
not allow the development of a common universal morality.
Only a few presentiments of this occasionally break forth like
a prophecy of the future.
3. Friendship.— It is only in connection with friendship,
which plays a great part in Aristotle, as in the ancient world
generally, that something more inward and higher is here
added to justice viewed as mere legality (Nicom. Ethics, viii.
and ix.). The true friendship which is higher than that which
rests upon advantage or pleasure, is the friendship of the good
and of those who are like each other in virtue. In this
friendship there is “ one soul; ” there rules in it equality and a
community of all things; and the one friend is the ego of the
other. But even from this, Aristotle draws the consequence
that the greater the distinction between individuals, so much
the less friendship is possible. The conception of friendship
is thus lost in that of the social relationships; and the ethical
way of regarding it, is replaced by the political point of view.
4. For, the State furnishes the standard even for friendship,
as well as for the whole sphere of the moral life. As the
highest realization of reason, the State is also the highest end
of human existence, and everything else is only a means to it.
For, man is a πολιτικόν ξωον. From this point, of view
the duties are determined; and the social relationships, the
family union, the relation of parents and children, the position
of slaves, etc., are to be judged and appreciated by it. This
means that the moral relationships are estimated according to
a standard that is alien to them. For it is not man and his
moral personality as the same in all, which decides; but it is
the natural side of man and his position in the civil life, as
different in different individuals, which furnishes the standard
of moral judgment. Here too, then, ethics is not determined
according to a really moral principle, but in a naturalistic
way.
§ 4. Stoicism.
The Cynics had taken as their position the absoluteness of

the subjectivity. The Epicureans start in their ethical doctrine
from the individual and set up with their principle of pleasure,
in the sense of painlessness and tranquillity (ataraxia), an ethic
of reflection, which is not an end, but a means for the egoistic
end of individual wellbeing. Stoicism starting from Cynicism
and its absolute subjectivity, and in opposition to Epicureanism,
unfolded a system of ethics which aimed at including both
a universal morality and a self-glorification of the subject.
By its principle of the universality of nature and reason, it
determined virtue as a living in conformity with nature, and
consequently with reason (ομολογούμεvcos rfj φύσει ζην). Such
virtue was represented as alone good in the proper sense,
whereas all other so-called goods are only adiaphora, which
do not affect the subject itself. Corresponding to this view,
^ virtue is not merely moderation of the passions, but passion
lessness. This gives virtue its unity, which is comprehended
in the ideal image of the wise man. This ideal, however, is
an unreal abstraction, so that the concession is made to reality
and its requirements of their being middle duties and a
corresponding fulfilment of duty. In this way a double
morality was taught, while the consistent outcarrying of
the perfection represented in the system, led to a return to
Cynicism. While the self-glorification o f ‘ the subject in
contrast to the conflict of life, could only assert itself in
the freedom of suicide, the principle of natural and rational
universality led to the cosmopolitanism of a universal citizenship
and its ethical consequences, and in the religious sphere to a
pantheistic monotheisn. In both relations Stoicism passed
beyond the ancient limitations. But on neither side does the
system advance beyond abstractions to a personal relationship;
and it has therefore only attained the significance of a prophecy
of the future.
1. Epicurus started from the doctrine of pleasure proclaimed

by Aristippus, and ennobled it. He declared pleasure to be
the essential good, in the sense of painlessness for the body
and tranquillity for the soul. This ataraxia characterizes the
wise man. Virtue is the means for this end of pleasure; and
thus this ethical doctrine arises out of reflection. Hence grew
the ideal of a cultivated life of enjoyment which withdraws
as much as possible from public activity (λάθβ βιώσας), in
order not to be disturbed in its tranquillity. Epicureanism is
thus a refined egoism which could only enervate to a greater
degree the energy that was dying out; and hence it could
not but give way before Christianity which had to steel
itself in suffering and labour.
2. Stoicism forms the antithesis to this position. It starts
from the Cynicism of Antisthenes, who declared virtue to be
the only good, and to be sufficient for happiness, so that the
wise man sufficing for himself (αυτάρκης) has not to trouble
himself about the other interests of life and its practices
and forms. But in this principle of absolute subjectivity lay
enclosed the cosmopolitanism which Zeno and his followers,
Chrysippus, Cleanthes, and others developed. This develop
ment was supported by the cosmopolitan turn which the
ancient life had taken through Alexander the Great and the
diminution of the political interest. The cosmopolitanism of
this system, however, was unquestionably of an entirely
abstract character.
3. The principle of the Stoa is the universality of nature,
which is identical with the universal reason (φνσις, €ΐμαρμένη,
λόγο?). As applied to ethics this principle is accordingly a
demand of conformity to nature, and therefore to reason
(όμόλσγουμένως rf} φύσα ζτ v). In this conformity virtue
consists; and in virtue, happiness consists;· while, on the
contrary, everything else is only an adiaphoron. Such rational
acting demands not merely moderation, but conquest of the
passions as the irrational; and this is apathy, a negative
virtue which coincided in issue with the Epicurean ataraxy.
In this wisdom consists the unity of virtue, which, however, is
explicated into the well-known four cardinal virtues, which
mainly through the Stoics became the scheme of ethics down
to a much later time.
4. This idea of morality finds its representation in the Ideal
of the wise man. The wise man is alone happy, free, and
perfect; he is a king and a priest; and in happiness, does
not fall short of Zeus. These descriptions and paradoxes
ultimately spent themselves in hollow pathos and mere
rhetoric. But as this ideal could not be shown in reality,
recourse was had to the notion of progresses (προκόπτοντβς),
who were to form the transition from the fools to the wise
men. In like manner, the attempt was made to supply the
defects of the system in the doctrine of external goods, which,
according to the strict meaning of the doctrine, are properly
all adiaphora; yet certain of these, in so far as they stand
in relation to moral acting, are to be distinguished as pre
ferable (προηγμένα) from those that are non - preferable
(άητοπροηγμένα). In like manner, in the doctrine of duties,
the perfect duties (κατόρθωμα) constitute what is properly
good in distinction from the middle duties (καθήκον μέσον)1
officium medium,, or common legality. This is the doctrine
of a double morality which afterwards passed into the Church.
5. The consequence of this natural universality and uni
versal rationality was the cosmopolitanism or universal citizen
ship accepted especially by the later Stoics. This is indeed
only an empty abstraction; yet it is so far a formal preparation
for the positive realization of the idea by Christianity.
6. The mood of mind related to this universality and its
necessity was resignation, a negative virtue ; while the
accentuation of the subjectivity and of its self-glorification
in opposition to the compulsion of necessity, led to the issue
of suicide (έξαγωγή, patet exitics), which is a*renunciation of
all solution of the moral problem, and is therefore the self
refutation of the ethical system.
7. The identification of thate natural universality and
universal reason with the Deity, gives to the Stoa the
religious impress which distinguishes it, and leads to its
striving after an ethic of humanity, as well as to the attempt
to attain a universal religion. But this religion is as abstract
as its moral humanity, and did not advance beyond a certain
universal religious mood distinctive of pantheism; and thus
it had only the significance of presenting a prophecy of a
concrete universal religion founded on a personal relationship
to the absolute personality.
III. T he P opular M oral P h il o s o p h y .
§ 5. Cicero and Seneca.
As Borne received the product of the ancient world

generally into itself in order to transmit it to following
times, so in like manner did it receive and transmit the
results of the ancient philosophy. But in conformity'with
the sober and practical spirit of Borne, it gave a popular and
practical turn and application to what it thus received. The
moral system of the Stoics corresponded most to the tradition
of the old Boman spirit, and Cicero sought to reproduce it in
a popularized form, along with other philosophical systems of
thought, and to communicate it to his age. Seneca again
endeavoured to expound it as a remedy for the diseases of
the tim e; but he did not overcome the opposition of the ideal
and reality, nor did he possess, even in the religious basis
which he attempted to give to ethics, a power of realizing it; so
that this discord led only to greater rhetorical embellishment.
Nor did he know of any other wisdom than resignation, and he
ultimately recognised suicide as the only way of freedom.1
1. Rome's vocation was to unite the ancient world of its

time, and also to receive the spiritual life of the peoples into
itself in order to be the means of transmitting it to subse-
quent ages. But in doing this it communicated the impress
of its own spirit. On account of its sober character it essen
tially accentuated what was practical, and in philosophy this
wa!s shown by a preference for ethics. Along with other
philosophical influences that appeared in its better spiritual
attitude, Rome showed most sympathy for the earnestness
and severity of the morality of the Stoics. There was thus
developed a popular philosophy, and especially a popular
moral philosophy, which became the common property of the
better minds ; and in connection with this system the elements
of cosmopolitanism and the pantheistic religious tendency
received further development.
2. Cicero regarded it as his vocation to reproduce an
popularize the Greek philosophy, and he especially applied
himself to ethics. Besides his Rive Books on the highest
Good and Evil {Be finibus bonorum et malorum), in which the
doctrines of the Epicureans, Stoics, and Peripatetics regarding
the highest good and virtue are reciprocally expounded,the Five
Books of the Tusculan Disputations, treating of particular
practical questions, and the monographs entitled, Laelius and
Cato Major, he also wrote his important Be Oficiis in
three books, in which he treats of the duties on the basis of a
work under the same title by Panaetius. In this treatise the
Stoical system of ethics is presented under a modified form
from the point of view of duty, and for a long time it exer
cised an important influence in consequence. Cicero here
distinguishes a double series of duties or a twofold morality,
namely, the ideal morality of the wise man {rectum perfectum,
κατόρθωμα) and the morality of the common man {medium
commune, καθήκον). After the manner of the Stoics, the basis
of morality is nature; and the ethical principle is convenienter
naturae vivere. As nature is the universal, there grows from
it the cosmopolitanism of the societas generis humani, humani
tas, and the corresponding sentiment of benevolence (bene
ficentia, benignitas), which, indeed, has its limits in the
worthiness of the object, and in regard for ourselves. This
is generally a very reflective m orality; and its purity is,
besides, essentially impaired by the practical point of view
of utility and public opinion, so that in reality it still amounts
to a selfish virtue.
3. Seneca composed numerous writings on moral subjects.
Such are his 124 Letters addressed to Lucilius, forming a
kind of moral handbook; the consolatory writings addressed
to his mother Helvia, Polybius, and M arcia; and his treatises
on Benefits in seven books, on Anger in three books, on
Tranquillity, on the imperturbability of the wise man, on the
leisure of the wise man, on the brevity of life, on the blessed
life, on Providence, etc. Seneca has substantially contributed
by these writings to make the Stoical reflection in the modi
fied form in which he represented it, the religious and moral
conviction of men of earnest minds. In the Christian
Church he was afterwards often regarded as a Christian, and
even lately he has been again represented as such on fanciful
grounds. Seneca repeats the Stoical positions of the universal
reason of nature, the ideal of the wise man, his perfection
and independence of all external goods and experiences,— an
ideal to which reality certainly nowhere corresponded, and
least of all his own reality. Finally, he reproduces the
Stoical cosmopolitanism, representing the common reason as
combining all men into the corpus magnum of the universal
human societas, from which even the slave is not excepted.
A universal humanism thus seeks to work itself out of the
ancient particularism, but it does not advance beyond theo
retical propositions, nor does it become a real power. For
even the religious sentiment, so strongly represented by
Seneca, could bestow no moral energy; for, the god of this
pantheistic monotheism is only the abstraction of the world,
and not the living God of the historical revelation, and
accordingly is not a power of moral realization.
§ 6. Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius.
Epictetus continues the tendency of Seneca, with a still

stronger representation of the religious element. But neither
does Epictetus advance beyond resignation in presence of the
necessity of nature; nor, with all the stress laid by him on
universal human community, does he advance beyond a
merely passive morality to a positive moral influence. The
same tendency of thought is found in the Meditations of
VOL. i. B
Marcus Aurelius; but here it is more than ever combined
with the mood and tone of effeminacy and powerless ness, yet
accompanied with the old self-feeling of identity with the
Deity.
1. Epictetus (in his ’Εγχειρίδιοv) made the significance of

philosophy lie entirely in its moral purpose. The philosopher
is a physician for the sick ; and the knowledge of the sick
ness is therefore the presupposed condition of its healing.
If he accentuates the religious element even more strongly
than Seneca, yet it does not lead him beyond resignation.
The Deity is the universal Eeason of the world in which
man participates. By returning to this his affinity with
God, man makes himself independent of all that is external
and indifferent towards it. His State is the world; his
community is mankind. For all men are the offspring of the
Deity {Διος απόγονοι). Yet a real love of man is not reached.
His last word is άνεγου και άπεχου, endure and abstain,
“ bear and forbear,” — the expression of a purely passive
morality, which renounces all positive moral activity.
2. Marcus Aurelius has embodied his Stoical confession in
beautiful words in his philosophical diary, Εις εαυτόν, which
he composed in the last years of his life ( a .d . 1 7 2 -1 7 5 ).
But with all his fine expressions he does not pass beyond the
limitations of the Stoical system, nor of the ancient philosophy
generally. In so far as man belongs to the transitory world,
his mood of mind should be resignation ; and in so far as he
belongs to the world of reason, and therefore participates in
the Deity, it is a proud self - feeling. The former mood
occupies the mind of Marcus Aurelius in the strongest degree.
The ancient world is preparing for its dissolution. But not
the less does he also feel the mood of pride ; and so from
the perishing external world he withdraws himself into the
inward world of the spirit, of reason, of inner freedom.
“ It suffices to live alone with the δαίμων in one’s own inner
self, and to serve it uprightly.” This religion is therefore a
worship of one’s own divinity. We are all citizens of the
one great kingdom, the world,— a sort of kingdom of God.
W e are thus created for one another; we have to care for
one another; we are to be well affected* to one another.
Bat however beautiful and almost Christian this sounds, it is
still o n l y meant as worship of one’s own divinity; the
dominant idea is therefore not love, but pride. I f we are
not allowed to live according to our own divinity, then Marcus
Aurelius likewise knows no other escape than that of suicide
(του ζην %ξίθί). He despairs of any such view as that the
moral task in this life must be able to be solved under other
circumstances. What is this, however, but a mistaking of
the proper nature of morality ? This whole Stoical exposition
of ethics is strong in words but weak in power. From it
help could not come; but only from a kingdom of God
which "consists not in words but in power” (1 Cor. iv. 20).
3. The Cynicism which issued from Stoicism, and which
wished to translate the independence of everything external
taught by Stoicism into the reality of life, exchanged this
independence for indifference towards all the practice of
human life in society. It thus undid the effect which the
earnest moral preaching of individual representatives of the
system might exercise, by resolving it through many crude
manifestations and a perversion of its alleged nature, into a
caricature of what was not nature. Yet Cynicism was
always a protest against a certain tendency to hyper-culture;
and, as such, it has been repeated in similar phenomena in
later times on Christian soil.IV
.
IV . T h e I ssu e of th e A n c ie n t M o r a l i t y in t h e A s c e t ic
E t h ic s of M y s t ic is m .
§ 7. Neo-Pythagoreanism and Neo-Platonism.
The religious restoration in the age of the Antonines in

contrast to the earlier intellectualism, sought in all sorts of
new cults and in attachment to forms of the past for
satisfaction of the religious want and the power of moral
renovation. Thus there was formed a religious and moral
fellowship around the fantastic form of Pythagoras. The
members of this association believed that salvation was to be
found and brought to the world by getting rid of the
sensuous nature; and they found in individual members
like Apollonius of Tyana representatives of this religious
asceticism. Plotinus brought such attempts to work out a
religious system of ethics on the basis of the previous pre
suppositions to a conclusion in his comprehensive system of
Neo-Platonism. According to Plotinus, the goal of all moral
striving is the union of the soul with the Deity and the
supersensible world of pure abstract being. For, spirituality
is the g ood; corporeality is the b a d ; and the way to that
union which is consequently purification and release from the
corporeal, is mystical elevation, and at the highest an
enthusiastic transportation out of the sensuous consciousness
into that divine world of pure being. — In this mystical
asceticism and enthusiasm, the intellectualism of the Greek
philosophy issues, and with this it ends. The long and deep
influences of this philosophy on the later theology of the
Church, rest upon its apparent affinity with the Christian
antithesis of spirit and flesh. Here, however, the fact was
overlooked that the philosophical antithesis was a natural
opposition, whereas the Christian antithesis was properly a
moral opposition, because it is grounded on the personal
relationship to the moral personality of God.
1. In the Age o f the Antonines a religious restoration was

effected as a recoil from the intellectual enlightenment which
prevailed at the close of the republic and in the beginning of
the period of the emperors. Doubt and despair of attaining
to knowledge and certainty of truth by a theoretical way,
begot a hunger for revelation which exhibited itself in a
morbid tendency towards all sorts of cults, consecrations, and
doctrines, and down even to mere magic arts. W ith this
mystical inclination there was connected in this period of
satiety, the ascetic tendency which saw the way to salvation
in getting rid of sense or desensualization.
2. This mode of thought attached itself to the mythical
form of Pythagoras around which a Neo-Pythagorean circle
gathered, the members of which honoured him as their saint,
as the organ of divine revelation, and as the realization of
their own moral ideal. W ith this formation of the religious
life in the shape of an allied religious order and of an
ascetic morality, the Neo-Pythagoreans believed that they had
the means of healing the evils from which the times suffered.
In this sense Philostratus, c. 220 A.D., wrote a mythical
account of the life of the Cappadocian Pythagorean, Apollonius
of Tyana, who belonged to the first century, and who had
acquired a name by his alleged gift of prophecy and magical
art. The moral life is here represented as liberation from
the imprisonment and defilement of the body by abstinence
from flesh, wine, and marriage. Such a process of over
coming sense is regarded as the way of becoming divine.
Desensualization is deification; and the ethical task is there
fore conceived as physical.
3. This longing after supernatural revelation, with release
from sense as its condition, is also shared in by Plutarch of
Chmronea (f c. 120 A.D.). Plutarch as a man of public life
is indeed more sober than the Neo-Pythagoreans generally,
and in his doctrine of virtue he occupies an intermediate
position between Aristotle and the Stoics. But the moving
thought of his life was the founding of morality upon piety
in the sense referred to.
4. Plotinus (t 270), the scholar of Ammonius Sakkas
(t 242), and greater than his master, was the chief founder
of the Neo-Platonic School. Plotinus completes this tendency
towards the supersensible world of the Deity to which the
soul has to soar in mystical elevation, and he exhibits it in a
comprehensive system. The goal of all moral striving is
union with the Deity. The Deity again is pure super
sensuousness, the highest Being in the sense of the abstraction
of being; and this pure spirituality is identical with the
good. Morality is thus made identical with spirituality.
The moral task is the process of becoming disembodied; and
happiness is union with the higher world of the spirit by the
way of purification from defilement by the body, of spiritual
abstraction from all that is sensuous, and of mystical elevation
to the divine world. On the highest stage this is effected
through enthusiastic ecstasy, in which all human conscious
ness vanishes and is merged in the divine consciousness, in
that “ frenzy of love ” by which man himself becomes God.
This is a height which manifestly was possible only for the
aristocracy of the intellect, not for the crow d; and Plotinus
himself, according to the testimony of his scholar Porphyry,
participated in it four times.
This was the last consequence of the ancient Intellectualism,
and of its elevation of the intellect at the cost of the will.
The development which began with the sober dialectic of
Socrates, ends with the enthusiastic intoxication of nature,
and with magic as the means of attaining to it. However
morally high the character of Plotinus as delineated may
have been, and however great his spiritual significance may
appear to us, it is still the fact that with his philosophy
he opened the door to all superstition; and with all his
spirituality he only brought to light the naturalistic foundation
of all heathen morality and religion. He lacked the know
ledge of sin.
5. The issue.— The scholars of Plotinus have only spun out
these thoughts somewhat further. This was done either more
in the ascetic direction, as by Porphyry, or in the sense of a
fantastic mysticism as by Iamblichus, who made a religion out
of this philosophy, a religion which the Emperor Julian
sought in vain to establish as the truth of the ancient
religion. But neither could the appearance of the celebrated
Hypatia, at Alexandria, in the beginning of the fifth century,
nor the scholastic erudition of Proclus, at Athens (t4 8 5 ),
keep this philosophy in life. The edict of the Emperor
Justinian in 529 put an end to the philosophic school at
Athens. But the influences of this Neo-Platonic philosophy,
with its mystical enthusiasm and its desensualizing morality,
stretch far down into Christian times, and it even affected the
thoughts of the theology of the Church. For of all the
ancient systems, this philosophy appeared to have the closest
affinity to Christianity. And yet the similarly sounding
antitheses of the spirit and the flesh are fundamentally and
essentially different on both sides. For in Christianity they
are moral and personal, while in the philosophical system
they, are naturalistic and physical. And as this is the
distinction between heathenism and Christianity generally,
the same holds true of the morality of the two systems.
V. T he D if f e r e n c e b e t w e e n t h e A n c ie n t E t h ic s and
the C h r is t ia n E t h ic s .
§ 8. The limitations o f the Ancient Ethics in contrast

to Christian Ethics.
In Christianity the chief interest turns upon man’s personal

relationship to God as the absolute moral Personality. In
the ancient world, as in heathenism generally at all its stages
both in religion and in morals, the interest turns upon man’s
relationship to nature, which appears even in the form of the
highest abstraction of universal Being (as in Stoicism) and
of pure Being (as in Neo - Platonism). Hence arise the
limitations of the old pagan systems in the relativity,
individualism, naturalism, and inequality of their morality.
Their way of morality is either the lower one of civil legality,
or the higher one of philosophical knowledge. The latter,
however, is only accessible for an aristocracy of mind, and is
as little capable from the nature of things of renewing the
inner nature of man as the former is, so that the old nature
of man remains unbroken and the same. Accordingly the
principle of morality is still always the natural selfhood and
selfishness, whether in an individual or general form. In
contrast to this, Christianity marks an essential progress, and
it possesses a real healing power in its proclamation of the
divine revelation of grace.
1. The stages o f the Ancient Ethics.— The civil Morality

observed in moderation and justice the limitations relating to
the Deity and men which are drawn by the will of the Deity.
From this stage philosophical ethics rises in Aristotle to the
norm of reason, and from Plato to the Deity. From the
resemblance to God which Plato sets up as the ideal, it
advances in the Stoa to identity with God, and in the Neo-
Platonism of Plotinus to unity with God. But it is never
the personal God and the personal and therefore truly moral
relationship to Him that is realized as such, but it is the
cosmos which, only as non-sensible, is invested with the name
of the Deity, so that even with all the religious grounding
and colouring which ethics receives, no advance is made
beyond the relation to nature. Hence as a necessary con
sequence arise the limitations of the ancient apprehension of
the moral world.
2. As the cosmos is not what is highest and absolute, but
is always only a relative thing, the Ancient Ethic lacks the
highest goal and the highest norm, and accordingly is affected
with the limit of relativity. It is not the moral in the
highest sense which it knows, but only a relative morality
like that of the State. Even the universalism of the last
period does not rise above the limit of the cosm os; for its
religious and moral universality, to which it expanded the
ancient mode of reflection, is only the image of the cosm os;
and besides, it is an abstraction. Moreover, as the cosmos is
the world of the manifold and individual, the morality that is
determined by it, bears also the limit of individualization in
itself. This is so, in the first place, because only individual
relative relationships are the regulative relations, and not
the one fundamental relationship to God. Such an ethic
knows only individual virtues and not the unity of a single
morality.1 In whatever measure the Stoics strive after such
a Unity, it remains only a postulate, with the characteristic of
abstract universality, which does not involve any guarantee
of reality.— Further, as the world is the sphere of nature, the
Ancient Ethics bears in itself the character of naturality,
so that the moral does not obtain recognition as a particular
sphere distinguished from the actual spheres of common
practice and legal right. And as this is the world of
inequalities, morality is also different for the different
individuals; and this is contrary to the conception of the
moral as the same for all, because for the personality
in all.
3. The way to the realization of this morality as appre
hended by the ancient way of thinking, is either that of legality
1 So it is said in Ecce H om o: “ The patriot, incapable of public treason, may

be capable of private treachery. The chaste man may be a traitor. The honest
man may be cruel.” Ecce H omo, A Survey of the Life and Work of Jesus
Christ, 13th ed., London 1876.
in so far as it is concerned with regulated formation in action,
and therefore with a control of nature by the insight of
reason and the formal power of the will (which consequently
is only a justitia civilis or a morality of external action); or,
when philosophy is taken as ministering to morality, it is the
way of knowledge, which by the nature of the case is open
only to a select number of individuals, so that the Ancient
Ethics in their alleged higher form bears an aristocratic
character in itself, which is contrary to the idea of the moral.
Knowledge, however, has its limit in that limited standard, so
that a true knowledge of the moral reality is not attained,
but the moral judgment is always a superficial one. And,
moreover, it also involves the limitation that knowledge
cannot be a power for the moral renovation of the will.
Taking the νους as its principle, the Ancient Ethics does not
reach the demand of μετάνοια; and even if it came to it, it
would not possess the real power of effecting it.
4. Thus the moral basis of nature as it is, i.e. the natural
selfhood, remains as the 'principle of the Ancient Ethics.
In the Church from the beginning this principle has been
designated as pride, and rightly so.1 The magnanimous man
of Aristotle, as well as the wise man of the Stoics,' bears the
unmistakable impress of this pride in himself. The ancient
world is the world of selfishness. Caritas, according to
Bockh, is not an ancient virtue; 1 2 and if the ancient world is
not just the world of individually limited selfishness, yet it is
that of an enlarged general selfishness, as in patriotism, etc.
“ Plato congratulates the Athenians on having shown in their
relations to Persia, beyond all the other Greeks, ‘ a pure and
heartfelt hatred of the foreign nature.’ ” 3 And although this
antagonism of the peoples became less, it gave place only to
1 So Kant in his Kritik der prakt. Vernunft, 6 Auf. 5, 186.

2 Uhlhorn, Die christl. Liebesthatigkeit in der alten Kirche, Stuttg. p. 3 if.
Bockh, Staatshaushalt der Athener, ii. 260. Lactantius, Institt. vi. 101 ;
“ Mercy and humanity are virtues which are peculiar to the righteous and to
the worshippers of God. Philosophy teaches nothing of them.” Stael, De la
literature, i. p. 149 : “ The happiness of others is not the object of the morality
of the ancients ; it is not to serve them, but to render oneself independent of
them, that is the principal end of all the counsels of the philosophers.”
3 Ecce Homo, p. 150. Plato, Menexenus, p. 245 : re r?f vrixtas ytwaTov xa)
tXivhpov. . . (pvfti μιαοβάρβαρον dta ra uXtxpivZs ttvat "Ελληνα; xa) αμιγιΐς βαρβάρων.
indifference and to the proud haughtiness of the men of
knowledge.1 “ The selfishness of modern times exists in
defiance of morality; in ancient times it was approved,
sheltered, and even in part enjoined by morality.” 2 And
although liberality was known and practised, yet that is
not mercy. Christianity, on the other hand, indicates an
essential progress and a difference of position.8 It is there
fore against history to deny this progress.4
Neither did Buddhism, which has been so often brought
close to Christianity or made equal to it, advance beyond the
limitations of the Ancient Ethics.
A p p e n d ix .
§ 9. Buddhism.
*■
The Buddhism of Asia is connected with the ascetic mood
which led men to flee from the world. It became prevalent
at the closing of the period of the ancient world, and passed
even into the Christian Church. On this account it appeared
to carry in it motives and manifestations related to Chris
tianity, whereas it is in reality fundamentally different from it
and does not depart from the basis of heathenism. For the
1 Sen. Ep. 73 : sapiens tam iequo animo omnia apud alios videt contemnitque
quam Jupiter.
2 Ecce Homo, p. 151.
3 On the difference between the Christian and the ancient pagan Ethics, see.
Ecce H om o; also Schaubach, Das Verhaltniss der Moral des klassischen
Alterthums zur christl., Stud. u. Krit. 1851. H . Thiersch, Die Stoa des Zeno
u. die Halle Salamonis. Vergleichung der stoischen u. der christl. Ethik.
Allg. Conserv. Monatsschr. 1880, Oct., pp. 261-280. Uhlhom, a. a. O.
4 Buckle (History of Civilisation in England, i. 180) specially advocates this
view : “ There is unquestionably nothing to be found in the world which has
undergone so little change as those great dogmas of which moral systems are
composed. To do good to others ; to sacrifice for their benefit your own wishes;
to love your neighbour as yourself; to forgive your enemies; to restrain your
passions ; to honour your parents; to respect those who are set over y o u :
these and a few others are the sole essentials of morals; but they have been
known for thousands of years, and not one jot or tittle has been added to them
by all the sermons, homilies, and text-books which moralists and theologians
have been able to produce.” — There is therefore no progress in moral truths,,
neither in moral power, nor in moral knowledge, but all the greater is the
progress in science.
redemption which it would bring, is meant not as redemption
from sin, but from suffering, which life itself i s ; and, more
over, it is a self-redemption which is to be accomplished by
knowledge. The morality of compassion which grows out of
this knowledge is an ethical product of the pessimistic
sentiment which mistakes the moral significance of life and its
work, and which accordingly possesses no power of exerting
an influence upon life. For, this passive reflection and
attitude with reference to the moral task of life lacks positive
relationship to the personal God who is the Lord of the world,
and who is consequently also alone the salvation of life, and
the energy of the moral activity of life. This ethic there
fore remains within the limits of the ancient moral views
and of heathen ethics generally, in that it knows only of a
relationship to the world whether this is positively or nega
tively apprehended. Hence Buddhism was on this account also
unable to find the right moral relation of man to the world.1
1. Buddha, who sprang from the noble race of the

Sakhyas, was born c. 560 B.c. It is related that his feelings
were deeply moved by the sorrows of life, and at the age of
twenty-nine he left his home and family in order to find the
way to a deliverance from those sufferings. For long years
he practised a rigid asceticism, but this did not lead him to
the goal he aimed at. Thereafter, when sitting under a tree,
the knowledge dawned upon his mind of the cause of suffering
and the way to deliverance from it. Having thus become the
enlightened (Buddha), he preached this new knowledge for more
than forty years, wandering about as a mendicant. He thus
gathered a company of monks around him, and to these a wider
circle of laymen became attached. After his death, c. 480 b .c .,
the councils of his followers drew up the necessary regulations
of the community; and the canonical writings wpre fixed.
2. His doctrine is fundamentally not religion or cultus (as
1 Dhamma padam (*.«. footsteps of the law) palice ed. Latine vertit, etc.
v., Fausboll. 1855. Max Muller, Chips, vol. i. Oldenberg, Buddha, s. Leben,
s. Lehre, s. Gemeinde, Berl. 1881. G. Voigt, Buddhismus u. Christenthum,
Zeitfragen des christl. Volkslebens, H. 89, Heilbronn 1887.
it afterwards became), but philosophy. Moreover, it is not
speculative or religious philosophy regarding the origin of the
world or the gods, but it aims only at being a wisdom of life,
and more particularly redemption by the way of thinking or
knowing, a redemption not from sin but from suffering. Life
itself is suffering, because a constant cycle of becoming and
perishing. The chief thing is to know this, and through this
knowledge to obtain redemption from suffering; and there
fore to save oneself by thinking: a God, or belief in God, not
being necessary to us. Not-knowing is the ground of e v il;
knowing is the salvation from it. For “ out of not-knowing
the formations arise, and out of these formations consciousness
arises; ” and so on through a long series of intermediate
members. “ Out of desire comes the clinging to existence;
from the clinging to existence comes the becoming; from the
becoming arises birth; from birth arises age and death, pain
and lamentation, sorrow, anxiety, and despair. If the first
cause on which this chain of effects hangs is removed, if the
not-knowing is annihilated, then all that springs from it falls
at once, and all suffering is overcome.” 1 There are therefore
four truths of cardinal importance: dolor, doloris ortus, doloris
interitus, doloris sedatio, on the octopartita via? The first
truth of suffering is th is: Birth is suffering; age is suffering;
sickness is suffering; death is suffering; the being united
with what is unloved is suffering; the being separated from
what is loved is suffering; not to attain what is desired is
suffering,— in short, existence itself is suffering. The second
truth of the origin of suffering is this: That it is the thirst for
being which leads from new birth to new birth, along with
pleasure and desire, and the thirst for change and for power.
The third truth of the destruction of suffering is the total
annihilation of desire. The fourth truth of the way to the
removal of suffering is the holy octopartite path, of which the
eight parts are: right insight, right thoughts, right words,
right deeds, right behaviour, right striving, right remembering,
right self-suppression. The centre of the Buddhistic doctrine
is thus redemption from suffering by knowledge.3
1 Oldenberg, p. 117. * Dhamma padam, 191.
3 Oldenberg, a. a. 0 . Kircbliche Handlexicon, herausg. von Meusel, Leipz.
1887. “ Buddhismus,” p. 593. Yoigt, Buddliismus u. Clmstenthum, p. 32.
3. The Ethic of Buddhism rests upon the fourth truth.
It is twofold : behaviour towards one’s neighbour, and be
haviour towards oneself. In the intercourse with one’s
neighbour there are above all five prohibitions which come
into consideration: not to kill any living being; not to seize
upon the property of another; not to touch the wife of
another (and for the monks not to touch a woman at a ll);
not to speak untruth; to drink nothing that is intoxicating.
To these prohibitions there correspond the commandments
of goodwill towards all creatures, of mercifulness, of bene
ficence, etc.1 The ideal is the wise m an; for all are fools;
and he who knows this is wise, whereas he who regards him
self as wise is a fool.2 The wise man is unmoved by praise
and blame; he is without desire, without wish, free from
anxiety, loosed from possession, calm in heart through his
knowledge, and envied even by the gods.3 This ideal sounds
quite Stoical, and these propositions seem Christian, and
hence it is that the ethics of Buddhism have been so often
and so highly celebrated.
4. Criticism.— These precepts have been lauded as being
such that nothing in the works of other heathen writers can be
compared with them for moral purity.4 “ It appears almost
inconceivable that man can have raised himself so high
without any divine revelation, and come so near the truth.” 5
Besides the five chief commandments against murder, theft,
adultery, drunkenness, and lying, there are also special
precepts against every vice, such as hypocrisy, anger, pride,
distrust, rapacity, gossiping, and torturing of animals. Among
the prescribed virtues we find not only reverence for parents,
care for children, subjection to authority, gratitude, moderation
in happiness, resignation in misfortune, and equanimity at all
times, but there are also virtues prescribed which are foreign
to the other heathen systems, such as the duty of forgiving
injuries and of not requiting evil with evil. A ll virtues
1 Clementia iram vincat, malum bono, avarum liberalitate, veritate falsi
loquum. Verum loquatur, ne irascatur, det parvulum rogatus : per has tres
conditiones ibit in deorum propinquitatem. Dhamma padam, 223, 224.
* Qui stultus se stultum putat, sapiens ille quidem ideo; stultus vero se
sapientem putans, is certe stultus dicitur, l.c. 63.
3 L.c. 81-96. 4 Max Mulier, u.s.
5 Laboulaye in the D4bats, 4th Sept. 1853.
spring from Maitrd, and Maitra can only be translated as
mercy or love. Burnouf says: “ I do not hesitate a moment
in translating the word Maitra as Mercy (Love ?). It does
not indicate friendship nor the feeling which the individual
man has for some of his fellow-men in particular, but the
universal feeling which fills us with benevolence towards the
whole of humanity, and which animates us with the constant
wish to help them.” Others take the same view.
But apart from the fact that Buddhism does not profess to
be a redemption from sin, but from suffering, and therefore is
superficial in its principle, and does not touch what is specific
in suffering, namely, sin and guilt, the following remarks may
be made regarding it. 1. All that Buddhism sets forth
is only requirement, and therefore of the nature of law, while
it does not possess in it the power of fulfilling what it
demands. 2. Knowing is not power. 3. The morality
which is here taught is itself only a passive morality, and
consequently enervating, without having the power of exerting
an influence upon life for the fulfilment of its tasks. 4. Ex
perience also furnishes testimony to the fact that Buddhism,
although professing to be a universal religion, has not become
any power in the movement of history. Even Kuenen has
acknowledged that Buddhism is blind to the significance and
the value of life.1 In its principle of knowledge this doctrine,
like the ancient philosophy generally, involves the aristocratic
principle; and, in fact, Buddhism originally made its way
more among the higher classes. “ For the poor among the
people, for those who had grown up serving with the labour
of their hands, and who were steeled in the necessities of life,
the proclamation of the pain of all existence was not made ;
nor was the dialectic of the doctrine of the fulness of suffering
in the concatenation of causes and effects fitted to satisfy
the desire of those who are spiritually poor. This doctrine
belongs to the intellectual man, and not to the foolish. It is
very unlike the word of Him who let the little children come
to Him, for of such is the kingdom of God. For children and
for those who are like children, Buddha’s arms were not
opened.” “ Redemption is above everything else science;
and the preaching of this redemption can be neither more nor
1 National and Universal Religions, Lond. 188$, p. 293.
less than the exposition of this science, Le, a development of
certain series of abstract conceptions and abstract principles ” 1
Here there is no personal interest for the individual, no
personal conscience of sin, no individual participation, no
entering into the inner life of the individual, no relation of
person to person as with Christ. A ll is only a uniform rest
of contemplation ; the personal disappears behind the formal,
or the scheme of thought. Ho one seeks and comforts the
suffering and the sad; it is only the suffering of the whole
world of which we hear ever and again. With Christ all is
personal; here all is impersonal. Accordingly, the morality
of Buddhism is not positive personal love, as in the case of
Christianity, but rather negative and universal friendliness.
The personal life is here extinguished in insensibility, and
only a certain calm feeling of benevolence is left, while, more
over, there is a constant outlook towards a reward. In place
of labour in itself, and of the struggle with sin, there comes
abstraction from what is earthly; an internal and even a
corporeal withdrawal or retraction, carried even to the stopping
of the breath. And thus Buddha knows neither a personal
relationship to the Deity in prayer, nor the personal moral
task of labour. His ideal is the monk, and his special
community is an association of monks, while in place of
labour there comes contemplative solitude. In reality, how
ever, there has grown out of this abstract philosophy a religion
of unspiritual and mechanical ceremonialism, and of the most
external works, and it has not been able to exercise the moral
energy of an animating influence, but has only worked in a
morally enervating way upon the will and upon action.
Prschewalski2 found only the utmost dulness of thinking and
willing among the Mongols as the effect of this belauded
religion. Nor has any energetic reformation of this always
more and more degenerating religion been ever attempted. It
is just the main citadels of Buddhism, and above all, Thibet,
where it is found most unmixed with alieii elements, and in
unquestioned possession of dominion, that stand religiously,
morally, and culturally on an extremely low stage.
1 Oldenberg, 159, 183, 191.
2 Reisen in die Mongolei in 1870-73. Aus dem Russischen, 1877. Cf. Allg.
Zeitung, 1877, Nr. 38, Beilage.
It is only the personal relationship to the personal God
that carries in it the power of true morality. Such is the
result of the whole of our survey of the ancient pagan Ethics.
This personal relationship, however, must be the doing of
God Himself, and man must enter into it religiously in order
to realize the relationship correspondingly in his moral
conduct. It was this that Israel had as its distinguishing
prerogative before the other peoples.
THE ETHICS OF ANCIENT ISEAEL.
I. T h e E t h ic s o f t h e O l d T estam ent.
§ 10. The distinguishing character o f the Ethics o f Israel}
T he distinguishing character of the Ethics of the Old Testa

ment is determined by the distinguishing character of the
history and religion of Israel. The relation of salvation
between God and mankind is what has been realized in the
history and religion of Israel, so that in distinction from all
other peoples what is national and natural appears here only
as the vehicle and form of a revelation which bears a universal
purpose in itself. Hence this impresses upon the ethical
development of the Old Testament, in distinction from every
other historical development, the distinguishing character that
it is absolutely determined by the corresponding consciousness
of God, and consequently, although in the form of what is
natural and national, it is yet really in its essence ethically
and universally determined.
1. The naturalism and national limitation o f the heathen
ethics are involved in the naturalism and national limitation
of the heathen religions. Even in their last and highest
stages their ethics do not pass beyond this limitation. For
even the cosmopolitanism of the ancient world at its close, is
still always conceived from the side of human nature, and it
i Cf. the Theologies of the Old Testament, especially that of Oehler, Tiib.
1873, 74, 2 Aufl. 1882. [Theology of the Old Testament. Translated. 2 vols.
T. & T. Clark, 1874.] Dillmann, Ueber den Ursprung der alttest. Religion,
Giessen 1865. Ed. Konig, Die Hauptprobleme derâjtisr. Religionsgesch.
gegeniiber den Entwicklungstheoretikem, Leipz.
VOL. I.
is therefore thought of naturalistically, and not from the
standpoint of the one personal God and the same identical
relation to Him, which is the truly universal and ethical
relation. Even the “ Reason ” of the Stoa and the “ Being ”
of Neo-Platonism are only abstractions of the w orld; and
the same holds true of the world-negating morality of both
these modes of thought, because as such it is always deter
mined by the idea of the world, and therefore naturalistically
and by reference to external things. So that a personal
morality in the proper sense is not reached by i t ; and con
sequently the true conception of the ethical relation is not
attained, because the consciousness of the absolute personality
and of the relationship to it is never regulative in these
systems. And in like manner there is never found a joyous
certainty of the power of the moral life, because a merely
national consciousness or a rational universality lacks certainty
of the future. ·
2. The prerogative o f Israel consists in this, that its natural
history as a people is the bearer and form of the relationship
of salvation between God and mankind, and of the historical
realization of that relationship. This is the standard of the
consciousness of God in Israel. The God of Israel is the
God of the world and of its future, for He is to be the God
of all the peoples. Here too religion, and consequently also
morality, presents in fact a national form corresponding to the
historical stage of the development of the pre-Christian time
generally. Hence ethics has here likewise a naturalistic basis.
In this lie the limit of the Old Testament period and the
constant temptation of Israel in its real connections. But
the special content enclosed in this limitation is not of a
naturalistic, but of a personal and moral kind, because it is
determined by the personal relationship to the God of the
history of salvation, and therefore to the ethically personal
and universal God, who is accordingly conceived of mono-
theistically.
3. The character o f the Revelation.— It is the error of the
modern theory of development that it represents the ethical
monotheism of Israel as developing itself out of a merely
national basis. This theory maintains that monotheism deve
loped itself out of polytheism, and that the ethically conceived
God of the world was developed out of the naturalistically
conceived national God. " The Israelitish religion has not
historical facts of salvation, but nature, as its basis. The
relation of Jehovah to Israel was originally a natural relation ;
what is so specifically represented as the theocratic element in
the history of Israel is brought into it by elaboration,” 1— so
that the specific distinction of Israel from the heathen peoples
is thus denied, and they are both put on the same foundation.
But this is evidently a contradiction in itself; for out of the
root of nature there can be developed, according to the nature
of things, only the stage of abstraction from nature, or the
negation of nature, but not the entirely different positive
conceptions of the moral personality and of the revelation of
salvation in history.2 Moreover, this view stands opposed to
notorious facts presented to us in history, and with the
constant consciousness of the legitimate representatives of the
Israelitish consciousness.8 The traces of naturalistic religion
and of a corresponding mode of life in Israel coming far down
and repeatedly renewed, are only evidence that the natural
element was also present here. But at the same time they
likewise prove that the opposition to it of the ethical mono
theism was not a natural product of the national spirit, but
that it was introduced from without and from above, and was
therefore a matter of revelation,— a fact which is constantly
asserted and authenticated by the consciousness of Israel.
The same holds true of the immovable certainty of salvation
in the future in face of all the contradictions of the actual
conditions.
4. The ethical significance o f Israel.— In Israel, then, an
ethical conception of God is attained for the first time, and
more particularly this is not realized merely as a philosophical
1 So Kuenen, The Religion of Israel, 3 vols., Lond. 1874-5. Prophets and
Prophecy in Israel, 1877. National Religions and Universal Religion, Lond.
1882. Duhm, Die Theologie der Propheten, Bonn 1875. Wellhausen, Stade,
etc. Also Ed. Meyer, Gesch. des Alterthnms, 1 Bd. 1884, § 309, 358 ff.
2 Ranke, Weltgeschichte, i. 1881, p. 32 : “ The idea of Jehovah has not
sprung out of nature-worship; it is opposed to it.” P. 38 : “ In the simple
advance of national nature-worship, there would have been no history of the
human race. This history first gets foundation and soil in the monotheism
which separates itself from nature-worship.”
3 Cf. Ed. Konig’s work, u.s., and his Beitrage zum positiven Aufbau der
Religionsgesch. Israels, 1886, p. 4 if.
rational cognition, but as a historically certain fact. Accord
ingly, there is attained here for the first time an ethical view
of the moral life in the proper sense, which does not merely
justify itself before reason, but is certain of its historical
justification.1 And this holds true, although in opposition to
this the only legitimate way of thinking, the powers of the
natural life, both in the spheres of thinking and acting, always
again assert themselves in the reality of experience.
§ 11. The ethical conception o f God in Israel.
On the basis of His historical revelation God has become

certain to Israel as the only true God, and therefore as the
one only God, as the God of power as well as of grace, as the
holy and just God, and as the purposive guiding wisdom.
1. The monotheism o f the Old Testament is not a doctrine

of the speculative philosophy of religion, nor an intellectual
abstraction, but a truth of practical significancy. Its formula
is thus expressed: “ Jehovah is God,” “ I am,” i.e. God
(Deut. xxxii. 39 ; Isa. xliii. 10), He alone (Isa. xxxvii 16 1
2).
This means that He is the only true God, as that expression
does not merely indicate the oneness of God. “ W ho is like
T h e e ?” (Ex. xv. 1 1 ; Micah vii. 18). “ Thus the so-called
ethical monotheism attributed to the prophets is an unfounded
invention of the advocates of the theory of development.” 3
It is only the full consequences of the conception in contrast
to the gods of the powers of the world that have been drawn
forth in the fundamental knowledge expounded by the
prophets.
2. The power o f the World.— The heathen way of thinking
1 The Israelites were conscious of being raised above the Egyptian and
Canaanite mode of life and observances in their morality, as is shown by many
express testimonies (Gen. xix. 8 ; Lev. xviii. 3 ; Judg. xix. 30, xx. 6, 1 2 ;
2 Sam. xiii. 12).
2 Cf. Hofmann, Schriftbeweis, i. 63.
3 Ed. Konig, Die Hauptprobleme, 39, 4 4 ; Beitrage, 8 ff. It is specially
noteworthy that even Vatke in his Lectures on Introduction to the Ο. T. 1860,
pp. 43, 601, not only celebrates “ the Israelites as the only real monotheists of
the ancient world,” but has also recognised the prophets and even the very
earliest of them as “ the oldest vehicles of the revelation of monotheism.”
always believes its gods to be involved in the world, just
because they are of a cosmical root; whereas, in the conscious
ness of the Old Testament, God is from the outset distinguished
from the world, and is separated from it. This is already
expressed in the first statement about God as the creator, by
which the consciousness of God, characteristic of ancient
Israel, is distinguished from all that is heathen. For if the
world is the product of a free act of God, then God is
essentially distinct from the world as the power and the
Lord of the world. As distinguished from the corporeal
world, God is self-evidently spirit; 1 and as such a spiritual
power standing behind the world, He is the object of awful
reverence (Elohim). As the supramundane being (El shaddai),
and not merely a power in the world like the heathen gods,
but a power above the world, and, indeed, above the whole
world, He forms the consciousness of God especially in the
patriarchal time.12
3. The personality o f God is given of itself with His
supramundane being. As Jehovah, He belongs to Himself,;
He has His own self-existence; and accordingly He deter
mines Himself, and is therefore free and personal; and
consequently He is also identical with Himself, in the history
of His faithfulness, in relation to men. Ps. xix. calls
God Elohim, as the God of the revelation of nature; and
Jehovah,, as the God of the revelation of the law. But the
certainty of the personality of God is independent of the
question as to the age of this name (Jahve), for that·
personality is already given with the certainty of the creation
and with the historic revelation. Accordingly, it also expresses
itself in the great word, “ I am ” (Deut. xxxii. 3 9 ; Isa. xliii.
10), which contains the strongest self-affirmation of God.
But if God, as supramundane and personal, is separated from
the world of mere nature, there is thereby rendered possible
1 Isa. xxxi. 3, = in opposition to man. In like manner D 'r 6 x ,

Ps. xcvii. 7, 9 ; 1 Sam. xxviii. 13.
2 The government of the world by the God worshipped by Israel is, however,
also often stated in later times, as with special distinctness in Amos ix. 6.
Compare also Isa. lxiv. 1 : “ Oh that Thou wouldest rend the heavens, that
Thou wouldest come down, that the mountains might flow down at Thy
presence."
a personal relationship and attitude towards H im ; and this
from the outset is separated from the world, and therefore
is not -naturalistic, but is specifically moral because it is
personal.
4. The gracious God. — Inasmuch as God puts Himself
into a historical relation to men, He shows Himself in such
condescension as the gracious God. For it is of free self-
determining grace that God puts Himself into a relationship
to Abraham, and then to Israel, in spite of their sinfulness,
chooses them out of the rest of the sinful world, and enters
into a covenant of fellowship with them ; and in so doing He
prepares the salvation of the future, and, notwithstanding all
the sin of Israel, continues faithful to Israel. For it is a
manifestation of grace which Abraham receives, and which
has as its aim the salvation of the world (Gen. xii. 3, xxii. 18);
and the song of Moses (Deut. xxxii.), that Magna Charta of
all following prophecy, which only develops further the
themes that are here touched, is a glorification of the faithful
grace of God towards His people. And the same holds good
likewise of the confession of God in that great theopliany of
the Old Testament presented in Ex. xxxiv. 6 f.
5. The Holiness o f God is impressed on the Law. For
while the commandments of the Decalogue sound external,
but have an internal meaning, in opposing sin in all the
relations of human life, pursuing it even to the secret coveting
of what belongs to one's neighbour, they reveal a holy will of
God, and exhibit it as a rule for man. Further, the revelation
of the law enables the people to recognise the infinite distance
between themselves and their God, and demands a mediation
through a mediator and a covenant-sacrifice which rests upon
the consciousness that that distance pre-eminently conditions
the forgiveness of sin, and thereby the holiness of God is
brought into consciousness. And although the specific deter
minations of the law relate to the externalities of the religious
and civil order and practice, yet these are in a naturalistic
form symbolical expressions of a moral will of holiness which
only gives itself an external manifestation in the natural form
of a national religious and civil commonwealth; but thereby
it would bring always more into the consciousness of the people
their own unholiness in contrast to the hbliness of God.
Hence the conception of holiness is not, as Kuenen and others
consider, a later conception due to the subsequent progress of
prophecy when it first attained an ethical conception of God,
and thereby the idea of His uniqueness; but the quality of
holiness was from the outset given in the conception o f God
as the supramundane personality. And, moreover, it was not
given as a sensuous conception such as that of a consuming
glory,1 but as a moral conception.1 2 For the exaltedness
above the world (cnp from np in the sense of separatedness)
includes “ moral perfection as an important factor in it.3
With this is given a norm for men as the fundamental law
of their moral being and acting. “ Ye shall be holy, for
I am holy.” 4 Upon this the law also founds its precepts
regarding ceremonial purity as symbolical expressions of that
fundamental moral thought. Thereby this whole ceremonial
and legal symbolism becomes at the same time a prophecy of
the perfect moral holiness of the future. If prophecy gives
more decided prominence to the holiness of God in the
ethical sense, and iwib" ίϊτιρ has become the favourite name of
God in Isaiah, it is nothing new, but only an unfolding of the
consciousness that is expressed in the law, — an unfolding
which was at once prepared in the vision of the calling of
the prophet (Isa. vi.), and called forth by the punishment of
Samaria. The Hew Testament revelation has freed the con
ception of holiness from all the naturalistic investment found
in the Old Testament; and has taught us to know it as God’s
essential and normative perfection.
6. Justice.— I f the holiness of God is made manifest in the
law, the justice of God has been made known in the history.
The conception and the certainty of it accordingly lie at the
basis of the religious and moral views' and utterances of the
Psalms. As an expression of the relation on the divine side,
to which the human side has to correspond, it is determinative
for the latter. Nowhere is justice so much spoken of as in the
Psalms; for they have to do with the contrasts in the reality
1 As Herm. Schultz in his Theol. des A .T . 1878, p. 517, and others hold.
2 Cf. Ed. Konig, Die Hauptprobleme, etc., p. 44 f.
3 Ed. Konig, Hauptprobleme, 84. Cf. Baudissin, Studien zur semit.
Religionsgesch. ii. 1878, pp. 1-142. Delitzsch in P. R.-E. 2 Aufl. v. 718.
4 Lev. xi. 45, xix. 2, xx. 7, 2 6 ; 1 Pet. i. 16.
of the moral life between the pious and the godless. The
root pl¥ indicates “ straightness,” as determined by the starting-
point and termination of the way, and therefore partly the
state that is conformable to a regulating relationship,1 and
partly the conduct that is conformable to that relationship.
When applied to God it therefore expresses that He remains
faithful on His side to the relationship into which He has
entered with Israel, and in Israel with mankind. As this
relationship is one of salvation, it is therefore in correspond
ence to it that He is the producer of the salvation of Israel
and therewith of mankind : both negatively, by checking
the unholiness of the enemies of Israel and delivering them
over to judgment,, and positively by realizing the salvation of
Israel through the power of His grace. Thus does His justice
reveal itself in the history of salvation which is an active
outcarrying of His love ; only this not without hatred to sin,
first in Israel, and then in relation to the peoples who are
led through judgment to a share in the salvation of Israel.
In this conception of justice on its different sides there is
embraced in unity the variety in which the use of this word
meets us, it being used as synonymous with faithfulness and
with punitive justice and judgment, as well as with salvation
and gracious favour. Human justice has to correspond to
this divine justice. From this point of view the opposition
between the just and the godless takes shape, and it rules the
book of Psalms from Ps. i. Hence the pious man may appeal
to his justice {e.g. Ps. iv. 2, Ps. vii., and often elsewhere),
while he is also still continually conscious of his sin (Ps.
xix. 1 3 ); since no living man is just before God (Ps. cxliii. 2).
7. Wisdom.— But as the contemplation of the history of
salvation widens of itself to contemplation of the ways of
God in the world generally and of the mysteries of life, and
as at the first glance no authentication of justice is here
found in the sense of a corresponding retribution, this con
templation gets to a knowledge of the wisdom of God, the
theology of which coincides with the goal of the history of
salvation. The knowledge of God is deposited in the Ghokmah
1 Kautzsch, in his Programm “ On the derivatives of the root pIV in the
linguistic usage of the Old Testament,” 1881, p. 59, represents the idea expressed
in p“JV as “ congruentness.”
literature. We have it first presented in the Book of Job,
which seeks an answer to the questions of the heart and the
understanding in view of the experiences of life. While
God is called Eloah (41 times), or Elohim (3 times), by Job
and his friends, and is only twice called Jehovah (Jahv.e) by
Job, the author of the book in the historical parts designates
Him by this name. The significance of this is therefore that
Jehovah is the solution of the enigma of Elohim. Eor we
can have no relationship to power, but we may certainly have
such to God as the revealed God. This God, however, is one
who works teleologically in the w orld; this is the practical
philosophy of the Chokmah, the result of the knowledge of
salvation to the contemplation of the world. For as in
nature it is not merely the power of God that is active, but
there is also purposive intelligence and will, so is it likewise
in the moral order of human life. Accordingly human wisdom
also determines itself as purposive (end-positing) intelligence
and w ill; for as Jehovah is both the ground and the goal of
all things, the way of wisdom is to know and to fear Him.
All that is earthly, including happiness and unhappiness,
obtains its significance only by reference to Jehovah. The
relationship to Elohim finds its truth in the relationship to
Jehovah. From this there arises a moral judgment and
guidance of life. This is found expressed in Proverbs— the
reflective wisdom of Israel which rises far above all the other
practical moral teaching of the ancient world.1 And even
the knowledge of the nothingness of all things as it is
exhibited in Koheleth (Ecclesiastes) is essentially distinguished
from the pessimism of the heathen way of thinking by the
certainty of God to which the thinking turns as to a rock in
order to save itself out of the flood of perishing things.2
In these constituent elements the consciousness of God
which is proper to Israel, realizes itself, unfolding itself in
advancing stages. But what unfolds itself is already funda
mentally given in principle at the beginning. This con
sciousness, however, is ethically determined through and
through. As such it was fitted to be the basis of a corre-
1 Fey, Die sittl. Anschauungen des Salomon. Spruchbuchs, Halle 1886.
2 Cf. Aug. Kohler, Ueber die Grundanschauungen des Buches Koheleth,
Erlangen 1885, p. 13 ff.
sponding moral consciousness. In the reality of the
relationship, however, into which God has put Himself to
Israel, there lay the presupposition for the possibility of
moral realization. The historical covenant relationship of God
and Israel formed this presupposition. Then the Law rested
upon it as prescribing the rule of conduct in relation to it.
§ 12. The Covenant-relationship.
The Covenant-relationship formed the basis of the Law.

God put Himself into this relation to Israel through the
election of Abraham, and then of the people, and through the
final establishment of the Covenant. Hence the moral
conduct that is conformable to the will of God appears as
conditioned by the relationship of grace in God’s fellowship
with man, and not as conditioning this relationship.
1. The Covenant is the point of view under which the

relationship of God to His people is put from Gen. ix. 9 to
Jer. xxxi.-xxxiv. It is not like a bilateral contract among
men, but it proceeds exclusively from God and His initiative
as a unilateral institution of God into which man, and there
fore Israel, only enters. A t the same time the spontaneity
and activity of God, presupposed in the formation of the
Covenant, are given expression to in the accentuation of God
as the subject of the Covenant.1 God as the author of all
salvation is the offering active party in the concluding of the
Covenant, who institutes the relationship between Himself
and men. It is only as men have to enter upon this institu
tion and offer of God, as the receptive party, that this activity
of God is represented as the foundation of a compact, and in
consequence the mode of expression used in other contracts
has thus been applied to it.2 Such expressions, however,
were not meant to prejudice the initiative on the part of God,
and so in the LXX. the Covenant is represented, not by
συνθήκη, but by Βιαθήκη.
1 Compare the personal pronoun in Gen. ix. 9, ’’Π'ΊΞΓΠΧ D'ipD
03ΓΙΚ ; and similarly in Gen. xvii. 7, connected with j'3.

2 Cf. Bredenkamp, Gesetz u. Propheten, 1881, p. 21 if. Ed. Konig, Der
OfTenbarungsbegrifT des A .T . 1882, Bd. 2, pp. 338-340.
2. Election is the act of choosing on the side of God,
by which He enters into relation to m an: “ins. Thus God
chose Abraham, and then Israel, when He called the former
out of Chaldea and the latter out of Egypt (Hos. xi. 1). This
gracious election also forms the foundation of the law. The
decalogue puts this act of grace on the part of Jehovah at
the head of the commandments by way of remembrance
(Ex. X X . 2). So that the relationship of grace on the side
of Jehovah in the patriarchal period and in the redemption
out of Egypt, forms the presupposition of the conduct of
Israel corresponding to the requirement of the law, and it
has to determine the consciousness of Israel; but it· is not
conversely the case that the conduct of Israel according to
the law, is the presupposition of the Covenant-relationship.
Deuteronomy especially recalls this gracious election (cf. vii.
7 f., viii. 17, ix. 4 -6 ). In so far as God appropriated
Israel to Himself in such election, the fact is indicated by
the term JHJ.1
3. The Fatherhood o f Jehovah and the Sonship o f Israel is
the relationship established by this election. Eor it is not
to the creation, but to that election and to the deliverance of
Israel out of Egypt that reference is made when Jehovah is
called Israel’s Father (Deut. xxxii. 6), or Creator and Former
(Isa. xliii. 1, 15, xlv. 11), and Israel God’s Son (Hos. xi. 1),
or His first-born (Ex. iv. 22). This sonship is then like
wise referred to those who belong to Israel (Deut. xiv. 1).
4. In consequence of this, Israel is God’s own holy and
priestly people. Israel was delivered out of Egypt in order to
be His own people, His “ people of inheritance ” (nj>rp Dy),
Deut. iv. 2 0 ; and in Deut. xiv. the words, “ ye are the
sons of Jehovah your God,” are succeeded in the next verse by
the words: “ for thou art an holy people to Jehovah thy God,
and Jehovah hath chosen thee to be a peculiar people unto
Himself above all peoples that are upon the face of the
earth.” 2 Israel is a holy people just because Jehovah has
made Israel His own. “ I brought you unto m yself; and ye
1 Gen. xviii. 19, VnjtfT ; and then also Amos iii. 2, ^)3p D2HK pi
ΠρΊΚΠ ; and Hos. xiii. 5, * I W ? . '3K·

2 r6jD DJ7. Cf. Deut. vii. 6 ; and on r6jD , Ex. xix. 5 ; Ps. cxxxv. 4.
T ·..: t %;
shall be unto me a kingdom o f 4priests ” (Ex. xix. 4, 6).1
This objective fact forms the basis and presupposition of
all the laws of holiness and purification, so that it is only to
be regarded as exhibited and figuratively realized in these
laws, and not conversely.
5. The Particularism which expresses itself in this
separation of Israel bore, however, universalism in its bosom,
inasmuch as from the outset Abraham’s election was to serve
as a blessing to all nations ; and prophecy proclaimed this
universalism of the salvation of Israel.
6. The answer of Israel to the election and ratification of
the Covenant of Jehovah, was the obedience o f faith. So it
was in the case of Abraham when he followed the call of
Jehovah and trusted the promise of Jehovah (Gen. xii.).
And thus it was that the promise of grace and obedience of
faith, forms the beginning of the history of Israel and the
origin of this people. This was a God-wrought origin of an
ethical kind, different from all other beginnings of all other
peoples, which are only of a natural kind. So it continued
in the history of the patriarchs, a history of believing hope
(Heb. xi.), and on into later times. God reckoned this faith
as righteousness (Gen. xv. 6), an imputata ju stitia ; and it is
this which forms the presupposition of the practical relation.
Circumcision follows justification, according to Gen. xvii.
10 ff, as σφραηις τής δικαιοσύνης τής ττίστεως τής iv
ακροβυστία, (Bom. iv. 11). Therewith is established the
relationship of faith and law, of the righteousness of faith
and the righteousness of the law.
§ 13. The Law.
The Law is on the one side a manifestation of the special

relationship of grace in which Jehovah stands to Israel, and
on the other side it is a commandment addressed to Israel.
This commandment has to regulate the whole external life of
the Israelitish community, and of its individual members
corresponding to the relationship of Israel to Jehovah as
1 D'jnb certainly not a “ priestly kingdom,” /3α*/λι<«» αράπνμα,
LXX.
belonging to Him. But at the same time it represents the
corresponding inner subjective relationship. Consequently,
as the order of the external commonwealth of Israel was
particular and transitory, and yet in its essential content it
was universal and abiding, it thus pointed on to a time when
its essential content, freed from its natural form, should come
as such to manifestation and realization.
1. The Law as a revelation o f grace. — The Law is a
revelation of grace, inasmuch as it forms a constituent element
in the history of Jehovah’s relationship of grace to Israel.
For where has it ever happened that God has so acted to a
people and spoken to it face to face as to Israel ? (Deut.
iv. 7, 32 if.). “ Happy art thou, 0 Israel: who is like unto
thee, a people saved by Jehovah ? ” (Deut. xxxiii. 2 9). Hence
the law is the delight of the pious man (Ps. xix. 11, cxix.
72, 97). ■ And thus, too, the relationship of grace is reflected
in it, a relationship which was to obtain realization in the
righteousness of faith that is in Christ (Eom. x. 6 ff.; cf.
Deut. xxx. 1 1 -1 4 )— a demonstration of, and not a means of
that grace-relationship.
2. The Law as commandment.— The Law is undoubtedly
in reality a νόμος τω ν εντόλών iv Βόγμασιν (Eph. ii. 15),
demanding and commanding, not giving. It thus reminded
men of sin, to which it was opposed with its negative form,
“ thou shalt not,” without, however, being able to take away
sin ; for it is only γράμμα, not πνεύμα. The falling away of
the people at Sinai shows their inward state and attitude
towards the law. Hence it is also engraven in stone as a
thing standing externally over against the people; it is not
internally one with the people. It was also felt as a burden,
at least from the standpoint of the New Testament (Acts xv.
10), and it is so designated (Gal. v. 1). This opposition of
the demand of the law to the inward moral reality, which it
was nevertheless unable to change, made it the means of
convicting of sin (Rom. iii. 20), of the heightening, of sin
(Rom. iv. 1 5 ; Gal. iii. 19, των παραβάσεων χάριν), and
thus the strength of sin (Rom. vii. 9 ff.). It worketh wrath
(Rom. iv. 15), and thus becomes the great indictment against
Israel, and in Israel against mankind (Rom. iii. 19 ; Col. ii. 14).
3. The Law as prophecy.— Thus it points beyond itself to
a time when there shall be no more an externally opposing
commandment, but the internal reality of righteous disposi
tion; and thus the prophet designates the new covenant
(Jer. xxxi. 33). The law was to prepare for this time by
its very requirements: παιδαγωγό? et9 Χ ριστόν (Gal. iii. 24),
and to foreshadow that time in the variety of its precepts
and ordinances: σκιά τω ν μβΧλόντων (Col. ii. 17, and Heb.,
especially chap. ix.).
4. The Decalogue1 is a summary of the fundamental con
ditions of the common life of Israel as God’s community.
These conditions are represented as applying to every
individual: “ Thou shalt.” The mode of numbering the
commandments of the decalogue is, as is well known, a matter
of dispute.2 It is best to regard the words, “ I, Jehovah, am
thy God,” as an introductory and fundamental word,— an
expression recalling to remembrance the fact that Israel was
to see and reverence Jehovah as its God. The commandment
of the duty to parents would then be the fifth of the first
series, the words of which are all accompanied by motives,
and have pietas as their content, while the last five command
ments contain deduced duties relating to the external conduct
of life towards one’s neighbour. These latter are shortly
connected on to each other without reference to motives, and
are such that they justify themselves before the moral con
sciousness of right. These five commandments are therefore
briefly enjoined, whereas man has to be inwardly moved to
the former five.
5. The internal movement o f the Decalogue is as follows. 1.
The first commandment is to recognise Jehovah as God, as
He has revealed Himself in the history of salvation, and as
Israel has experienced Him as Redeemer in His grace and
power. This is an act of faith. In this all else is grounded
and comprehended, so that what follows is only an unfolding
1 That the form of the Decalogue in Ex. xx. 2-17 (Deut. v. 6-18) is the
correct form, while Ex. xxxiv. 11-26 is not the fundamental law, and that
it belongs to a body of laws which goes back to Moses, has been shown by
Delitzsch (Urmosaisches im Pentateuch, Zeitschrift fiir kirchl. Wissenschaft,
etc., 1882, p. 281 if.) and by Konig, Beitrage, etc., p. 24.
2 Cf. Geffcken, Ueber die verschiedene Eintheilung des Dekalogs, 1839.
Delitzsch, P. R .-E .2 iii. 535 f., and von Zezschwitz, Katechetfk, ii. 1,1872, 250 ff.
of it. Thus all morality is rooted in religion, all moral
action in faith, and all moral conduct of man in God’s rela
tionship of grace. This is a new ethical principle which thus
enters into the history of the moral consciousness and life of
mankind. And it corresponds to this that in Lev. xix. the
various individual precepts are carried back to this funda
mental recognition of Jehovah: “ for I am Jehovah, your God.”
So Luther introduces the exposition of each of the command
ments with that of the first commandment. The first word
of the Law, then, and the basis of all the following, is faith in
the God of salvation. 2. With this all idolatry and image-
worship is excluded. Jehovah alone is to be worshipped; it
is His will to have wholly the love of the heart. 3. He wills,
however, to be recognised as He has revealed Himself. His
name is His revelation; abuse of His name would therefore be
disesteem of God. Accordingly Jehovah will be recognised,
Jahve alone, as God. And particularly, 4. in such order as
He Himself has arranged and founded in the creation. More
over, 5. in His representatives through whom He produces the
earthly life. To love towards God as it rests upon faith and
is realized in the manifold recognition of Jehovah, there is
annexed love towards our neighbour as it exhibits itself in the
manifold recognition of our neighbour in his possessions.
And in particular, 6. the foremost possession of our neighbour
is the good of life itself, as the presupposition of all other
goods. Among these goods, however, the foremost again is, 7.
his wife out of whom his house is reared. Next, 8. there is
his earthly possession as belonging to his house; 9. his public
name and honour in the community to which he belongs.
10. The last ground, however, of such manifold modes of
injury is the wrong desiring or coveting of what belongs to
our neighbour. In Deuteronomy this is included under the
wife as the basis of possession, but in Exodus it is designated
as house, etc., the individual things which all belong to the
possession of another. In this second half of the command
ments the line movement is from without inwards, from the deed
to the word and heart. The whole, however, advances from
faith to the love of God and then to the love of our neighbour.1
1 Others otherwise. Compare von Zezschwitz, System der Katechetik, ii. 1,
p. 365 f. I. Table : Heart, Mouth, Work ; II. Table: Work, Word, Heart.
The commandments have thus an externality in their expression,
especially in the second half of the series; but they are never
theless inwardly meant, as is shown above all by the beginning
and conclusion. Hence they are correctly summarized in
Deut. vi. 5, and even in the Decalogue itself in the . so-called
Book of the Covenant in Ex. xxvi. as love to God ('3ΠΚ),
and in Lev. xix. 18 as love likewise to one’s neighbour, and
they are correspondingly summed up in Matt. xxii. 36. What
Christ does in the Sermon on the Mount is only to reduce
them to their proper meaning, while at the same time their
Old Testament limitation is taken from them. Eor, it is the
saving God and the Redeemer, not yet of the world, but of
Israel, and it is their neighbour in the sense of a fellow-
countryman (Lev. xix. 18), and not yet of man as such, to
whom this love applies. The universalism is still enclosed in
the husk of particularism; but the husk encloses a germ with
a rich future in it.
Similar individual precepts are to be found elsewhere; but
nowhere such a connected whole at once so simple, complete,
and inward, and embracing all the essential fundamental
moral requirements and fundamental conditions of a right
moral state of the community. This could not but train and
elevate the moral consciousness to that height and purity
in which Israel was far superior to all the other peoples of
antiquity, even to those among them who stood morally
highest.
6. The humane character o f the Old Testament legislation.—
The Old Testament proceeds upon a monotheistic and personal
apprehension of God. In relation to Him stand the individual
members of the people as belonging equally to Him, and
there is a reciprocal recognition and goodwill conditioned
in the actual relationship, by which the Old Testament law of
morality becomes far superior to that of the highest peoples
outside of Israel, and it also goes far beyond any kindred
expressions of the Stoa. I f in that system the moral conduct
is summarized in δικαιοσύνη as the αρετή προς τον erepov
in the sense of the suum cuique, yet the most icy selfishness
is compatible with it, and only at the close of the ancient
world does there stir a softer mood of goodwill which accentu
ates the man in the man, without, however, passing at bottom
beyond words. But in the Old Testament legislation there
is expressed in a series of individual determinations, and in
the whole ideal which lies at its basis, a spirit of humanity
which, in its national limitation, is the prophecy of a future
that was yet to embrace mankind. Such are the regulations
about the jubilee year, in which all that had been sold and
pledged was to be given back (Lev. xxv.), whether these
regulations were capable of being carried out or not. Further,
we may refer to the regulations about the harvest: that the
olive tree was not to be shaken, the vineyard not to be
gleaned, and the sheaf forgotten upon the field not to be after
wards fetched, but that all this was to belong to the poor, the
widows, and the orphans (Deut. xxiv. 19—2 2 ); that it was
allowable to pluck ears going through the cornfield (Deut. xxiii.
25), and that what grew in the Sabbatic year should be for the
benefit of the poor (Ex. xxiii. 11). These regulations, and
much more of the same kind, show a conception of property
which was essentially distinguished from the rigid and absolute
conception of the Roman law, and they were specially based
upon the fundamental religious thought that the land as
well as the people properly, belonged to God as its Lord and
Owner, and that the Israelites held their land from God only
in fee, so that all ownership is only relative, and the possessor
has to make its enjoyment accessible also to others.1 A
series of other regulations come to the support of these. Thus
we may refer to the prohibition of usury in the case of fellow-
countrymen (Ex. xxii. 2 5 ; Lev. xxv. 3 5 -3 7 ), or pledging
the upper garment overnight (Ex. xxii. 2 6 - 2 8 ; Deut. xxiv.
1 0 -1 3 ); the commandment to pay the needy their hire before
the evening (Deut. xxiv. 1 5 ); the institution of the so-called
poor-tithe, i.e. the second tithe, which was to be applied at
the end of every three years for a feast to be given to the
strangers, widows, and orphans (Deut. xiv. 28, 29, xxvi. 12,
3 ); the recommendation of liberality to the poor (Lev. xix.
9 ; Deut. xv. 11, xxiv. 19 ff.); of gentleness and attention
to the infirm (Lev. xix. 1 4 ; Deut. xxvii. 1 8 ); and of rever
ence for age (Lev. xix. 32). Such, too, are the regulations
about honesty in trade and conduct (Deut. xxv. 13 ff.); about
1 Cf. Uhlhorn, Die christl. Liebesthatigkeit in der alten Kirche, Stuttg. 1882,
p. 42. [Christian Charity in the Ancient Church. T. & T. Clark.]
VOL. I. D
bondmen and slaves (Ex. xxi. 2 -1 1 Lev. xxv. 41, 42, 49,
55) ;* about the measure of corporal chastisement (Deut. xxv.
3 ); about the friendly treatment of strangers (Ex. xxii. 21,
xxiii. 9 ; Lev. xix. 3 4 ) ; and about widows and orphans (Ex.
xxii. 22). The garment of the widow was not to be taken in
pledge, and widows and orphans were to be invited to feasts
(Deut. xvi. 11, 1 4 ); for God is the father of the orphans and
the judge o f the widows (Ps. lxviii. 6). There were regula
tions even in favour of the lower animals (Deut. xxv. 4,
v. 14, xxii. 6 ; Lev. xxii. 28 ; Ex. xiii. 4, 5), applying also
to the cattle of an enemy. Mercy belongs to the character of
a just Israelite. He is “ merciful and mild ” (Ps. xxxvii. 26) ;
he “ considereth the poor” (Ps. xli. 1 ); he dealeth graciously
and lendetli (Ps. cxii. 5 ) ; whereas “ the tender mercies of the
wicked are cruel” (Prov. xii. 1 0 ); for, God is gracious and
merciful, etc. Therefore “ he that hath mercy on the poor
honoureth G od ” (Prov. xiv. 31). Hence the entirely different
estimation of the poor in Israel from what it was in the
heathen world. For God looketh upon the lowly, and con
sidereth the poor and needy. Hence the right fasting which
God has chosen is thus described: “ Is not this the fast that
I have chosen ? to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo
the bands of the yoke, and to let the oppressed go free, and
that ye break every yoke ? Is it not to deal thy bread to the
hungry, and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy
house ? w’hen thou seest the naked, that thou cover him ; and
that thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh ? ” (Isa. lviii.
6, 7). It is expressly forbidden to hate or calumniate our
neighbour; and it is commanded to love him as ourself (Lev.
xix. 10—18). And this is not restricted merely to fellow-
countrymen, but it is also commanded to show love even to
an enemy : “ If thine enemy be hungry, give him bread to ea t;
and if he be thirsty, give him water to drink: for thou shalt
heap coals of fire upon his head” (Prov. xxv. 21, 2 2 ); and
the sojourners in Israel are often commended to goodwill. All
this shows a stage of morality far surpassing that of the heathen
world, and even the highest philosophical ethics of antiquity;
and if such morality was not always realized, yet it shows
1 Mielziner, Die Yerhaltnisse der Sklaven bei den alten Hebraem, Kopenh. 1859.
Riehm, Handworterbuch des bibl. Alterth. 1884, it 1498 if., “ Sklaven.”
what was the moral requirement, resting as it did upon the
religious basis which Israel had as an advantage over all other
peoples through the covenant relationship of God to His people.
The Old Testament promise of reward has, indeed, been often
dwelt upon as a sign of a morality of a low order; as when
it is said: Do this that you may live long, etc. (Ex. xx. 12 ;
Deut. viii. 1, xi. 8, 9, and elsewhere); but the reward of
which the Hew Testament also speaks, is meant as a heighten
ing or completion of the relationship to God which in the Old
Testament had still a natural form, and therefore found a
positive realistic expression. Accordingly it is not external
goods as such which thus come into consideration, but these are
regarded as a manifestation of that essential relationship, always
in accordance with the existing stage of the history of salvation.
7. The basis o f the individual determinations o f the Old
Testament lavj is the holiness o f God in contrast with the sin
o f the people, with whom He is yet willing to have fellowship
in gracious love, so that the order of the commonwealth and
common life of the people thus grows out of those two factors
of holiness and sin and the goal of fellowship or communion.
The thought lying here at the foundation is therefore of a moral
kind. But as the object dealt with is a national and therefore
natural commonwealth and common life, it is not a moral and
personal, but a natural and therefore an external order of life
on which those moral thoughts are externally impressed, so that
this external order of life has only symbolical and pedagogic
significance. This constitutes the limitation of the order of the
Old Testament law, which must fall away at its time.
8. The duelling o f God in Israel.— From that point of view
the law above all regulates the mode in which God wills to
dwell among His people, so that along with it the distance of
the sinful people from their God, as well as the limit of their
fellowship with God, is clearly shown. This is not yet the in
ward personal fellowship with God as mediated by the Spirit, but
the external fellowship of a people realized on the basis of their
natural life, and therefore a fellowship that exhibits itself by
means of a natural life which is separated and set apart for this
purpose. But even this communion with God proceeds from God;
for it is not· Israel that has made itself the community of God,
but Jehovah by making His dwelling among His people. And
yet He does this in such a way that He as the Holy One is still
separated from the people, and therefore it is done only through
the medium of priestly servants and in a house which separates
Him from them as well as brings Him nigh. It is only under
certain conditions (of purity) that one can approach Him, and
that the Israelite participates in God’s community and its sanc
tuary,— conditions which, corresponding to the stage of the his
tory of salvation, are likewise of an external and natural kind.
■ 9. To this category the sacrifices pre-eminently belong.
Resembling the heathen sacrifices in their external appearance,
and like them of an outward character, they have the preroga
tive over these in that they are legally instituted by God Him
self, and thereby are made effective, that is, by reference to
the fact that the nation belonged to Jehovah. The sacrifices
are to be so regarded whether it be that they realize the
present covenant fellowship with Jehovah in external symbol
ization of the personal relation: as expression of complete
surrender in the burnt-offering, or of a grateful return in the
thank-offering (but in this case not without the memory of the
sin that was worthy of death, which recollection has to precede
all presentation of the fruit of works in the drink-offering); or
that they were to restore the disturbed covenant fellowship
with Jehovah in the sin-offering and the guilt-offering. The
worship generally, and the regulations regarding fasting and such
like, are to be put under the same point of view as the sacrifices.
10. The regulations fo r maintaining 'purity1 had a special
purpose; they had to serve to exhibit externally the holiness
of God’s Israelitish community in its individuals, and continu
ally to bring to remembrance the defiling influence of sin
before God. For the purity of the individual must correspond
to the holiness of the community if the individual was to have
a share in it and in its sanctuary, corresponding, however, to the
national and therefore natural character of God’s community
in its external form. The conditions of this purity consisted,
partly in the observance of the distinction of clean and un
clean in the sphere of the laws relating to food (Lev. xi.), and
partly in washings and offerings for purification with reference
to defilement by leprosy, death, and sexual emission (Lev.
xii.—x v .); while the whole community was ordered to purify
' 1 Cf. Riehm’s Handworterbuch u. s. w. ii. 1274 ff.
itself every year from all impurity, and to expiate its sin by
the great sacrifice of atonement (Lev. xvi).
11. The relation of the community as belonging to God
in its whole existence, was exhibited by consecration of possession
in the firstlings and tenths (Lev. xxvii.), by consecration
of the daily life through a religious worship in the daily
morning and evening sacrifices, by consecration of the course
o f time in the sacred division according to sevens and its
festivals (Lev. xxv.), and by consecration of the history of
Israel in the memorial celebrations of Jehovah’s saving acts
in history (Lev. xxiii.). Thus the law and its regulation of
the commonwealth and life of Israel was, even in its external
form and naturality, a symbol of moral thoughts and relation
ships, and even thereby it called these to remembrance and
was an education for them ; so that in the law itself there
was already involved the tendency to internalization.
§ 14. The Internalization o f the Law.
The legal regulation of the religious life of Israel had as

such already the significance of mediating the theocratic
relationship of Jehovah and His people. Nevertheless, if the
personal relationship of the Israelite to his God was to be a
right relationship, the will of God which lay at the foundation
of it must become a thing of the inward personal life and
disposition. The recognition of this was set forth by Deutero
nomy and the Psalms, and more particularly by the Prophets,
in opposition to a carnal trust in the external order of the
law, and thus far in opposition to that order itself. According
to the testimony of the reflective literature, this was not
without an influence on the moral judgment and guidance of
life, yet the opposition between law and reality still pointed
to a future in which it was to be overcome.
1. The decalogue, both in its beginning and conclusion, already

shows that although it sounds external/ it yet has an internal
meaning. Under this point of view Deuteronomy repeats the
law. This consideration explains its subjective and hortatory
character. Its object is to lay the law to the heart, and to
introduce it into the heart. Hence it also accentuates the
fundamental presupposition of the la w : love to Jehovah with
the whole heart as the sum and centre of the whole law
(Deut. vi. 5 ; cf. Ex. xx. 6). Hence such words as those
in Deut. v. 9 : “ Oh that there were such an heart in them
that they would fear me, and keep all my commandments
always,” are indeed connected with the knowledge that the
carnal nature is contrary to keeping the commandments, and
that God Himself must therefore enable this to be done, and
that He also will do s o ; as is stated in Deut. xxx. 6 : “ And
Jehovah thy God will circumcise thine heart, and the heart
of thy seed, to love Jehovah thy God with all thine heart
and with all thy soul, that thou raayest live.” Whatever date
may be assigned to Deuteronomy, these statements are only
an elucidation of the original view. Only this point of view
undoubtedly comes always into more decided prominence in
the later times, as is seen in the Psalms and, above all, in the
Prophets.
2. The Psalms.— Hence it is erroneous to say that the
progress in the time of the Psalms, and especially of the
Prophets, consists in this, that the external legal order was
held in little account, whereas the moral law was emphasized
exclusively and in contrast to it. The celebrated word of
Samuel to Saul in 1 Sam. xv. 2 2 : “ To obey is better than
sacrifice,” refers to the personal relationship to God. A t the
same time Samuel himself offered sacrifices. The Psalms
undoubtedly give the external law a place behind the X ojiktj
Xarpela. They put external sacrifice behind the heartfelt
sacrifice of the obedience of the will (Ps. xl. 7 ff.) and the
broken spirit (Ps. li. 18 f.). But along with this, it is also
said in Ps. li. 1 9 : “ Then shalt thou delight in the sacrifices
of righteousness, in burnt-offering and whole burnt-offering:
then shall they offer bullocks upon thine altar.” The truth
of the external worship is therefore conditioned by the moral
attitude; in this itself the right worship consists (Ps. xv.
24—50). God does not lay importance on the external as
such; all the beasts of the forest are already His. “ Offer
unto God the sacrifice of thanksgiving; and pay thy vows
unto the Most H igh ; and call upon me in the day of trouble;
I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me **“(Ps. 1. 14). The
sacrifice of the prayer of the heart is therefore the right sacri
fice. Along with this, however, the external sacrifice, and
therefore the ritual law, is again recognised (Ps. lxvi. 15).
The two are not in contradiction, but are wholly compatible
with each other. When the matter in hand deals with the
theocratic relationship of the commonwealth and of its members
to God, and therefore with what is naturally determined, then
external sacrifices and the external order of this commonwealth
as established by God assert their right. But the personal
relationship of the individual to his God is not mediated by
that order, but is only personal and moral. The Psalms,
however, treat of this personal relationship. In them, accord
ingly, sacrifice and offerings become symbols of what is internal.
Sacrifices are temporal, belonging to a particular time and
conditioned by the contemporary stadium of the history
of salvation, and they are therefore particular and transitory;
whereas the personal and inner relationship is what is essential,
abiding, rich in futurity, and universal. This always works
itself out more decidedly from the husk of what is naturalistic
and particular. Hence it is specially represented by the
Prophets, for they were the bearers of the future of the
Kingdom of God with its personal and universal character.
3. The Prophets.— On the one side, wTe find such facts as
that not only the Levites (2 Chron. xxx. 30), but also the
prophets, support King Josiah, after the finding of the Book of
the Law, in renovating the legal order of the religious life
(2 Kings xxii. 11 if.; ver. 14 mentions the prophetess Huldah,
and in xxiii. 2 we have “ the prophets”). In particular,
Jeremiah (xi. 1 -8 ) undertook to peregrinate in the cities of
Judah, and to exhort the people to the observation of the law.
On the other side, this wholly external legalism appears again
to be blamed and rejected by the same prophets. For it was
not a conversion of the heart, but a deception (Jer. iii. 10).
Hence the prophetic preaching turned itself against all this
external, dead, ceremonial worship. W e find this already in
the ninth and eighth centuries b .c . (Joel ii. 13 ; Amos v. 21 ff.;
Hos. vi. 6 ; and then in Hezekiah’s times, Isa. i. 12, xxix. 13;
Micah vi. 6 -8 ). In the time of Jeremiah, the testimony
against the opus operatum at length became an essential part
of the prophetic preaching (cf. e.g. Jer. vi. 20, xiv. 12). But
this was not done as if it was a rejection of the legal sacrificial
worship itself. Otherwise this would not have been adopted
as an essential feature in the picture of the Messianic future
(as in Isa. lx. 7, etc.), and so too in Jeremiah (not merely in
the contested passage xxxiii. 18, but also in xvii. 26, xxxi. 14,
xxxiii. 11). The thought always is that man is not to think
that he can find God for himself with mere external gifts,
without a corresponding internal disposition. Hence, on the
one hand, a new temple and sacrificial worship is prophesied
for the new Jerusalem (e.g. Isa. lvi. 7, lxvi. 2 0 ); and, on the
other hand, it is again said (lxvi. 3) that Jehovah will have
no new temple built, and that sacrifices and oblations are
abominations to Him. The external cultus has therefore
moral value and significance only if it is an expression of the
corresponding internal disposition, which therefore has only
essential worth. What is here worked out is the sharp
distinction between the natural and the moral. It is a
distinction which the ancient pagan world not only does not
know, but identifies them with each other; whereas it is
prepared in Israel in that the two are distinguished from one
another while connected with one another, and this distinction
is finally realized in a clear and sharp way in Christianity. That
corresponding disposition could indeed only be the effect of a
new spirit of life which the law could not give, but only
prophecy could promise (Isa. vii. 9 ; Hab. ii. 4). The School
of the Law had in consequence a fear of moral knowledge and
of the moral guidance of life. And the evidence of this lies
before us in the proverbial literature of Israel, with which no
moral literature of the heathen ancient world can be compared.
In it the moral reality of Israel towers far over that of the
heathen world. But notwithstanding this, the carnal nature
of the people remained uninterruptedly and fundamentally
opposed to the will of God as it announced itself in the law.
4. The opposition between the Law and reality.— The Law
had not grown out of the national and natural soil of Israel
as the national orders of the life of other peoples had done;
but it had been given from without by God.1 The moral
reality of Israel was therefore not one with the Law. This
1 On the question why Israel’s religious and moral ideal cannot be called the
blossom of the genius of its people, see Ed. Konig’s Der Offenbarungsbegriff, etc.,
contradiction runs through the whole history of Israel as
nowhere else. Hence the lapse already at Sinai, and such
reproaches as those in Amos y. 25 f. Tor, naturalistic worship
was just as near and as natural to the natural being of Israel
as was the case with other peoples. Israel was not different
from these other peoples of itself; what it had distinctive
was not φ ύσα but θ ίσα . Hence the constant conflict of this
θέσις with the φύσι,ς, of the prophetic spirit with the natural
inclination, down through all the history of Israel. The inner
unity of the Law and inclination, is an element in the
prophetic hope of the Messianic time with its new spirit and
new heart (cf. Jer. xxxi. 3 1 - 3 4 ; Ezek. xxxvi. 26 f.). And
when later, in the severe school of exile, the people were
fundamentally cured of their inclination to polytheistic nature-
worship, and the Law had become one with its national
thinking and life, the union then attained was only with the
Law as the order of the national Commonwealth, and therefore
on its natural side. Accordingly, we have here the same
principle as among the heathen peoples, only in a monotheistic
form, and therefore it is so much the more difficult to recognise
its untruth. This is the essence of Pharisaism, and hence
Christ reduces its religious and moral character to the level of
heathenism. Pharisaism was prepared in the period following
the prophets, when the spirit of the national particularism
attained the supremacy under the semblance of a genuine
Israelitism, and thus determined the moral way of thinking.
II. The P a r t ic u l a r is t ic N o m is m .
§ 15. Its beginning in the 'post-canonical interval,1
As the restoration of Israel was essentially founded upon

the legal order of Israel, and was concluded in it, this became
Bd. i. pp. 87-95. See also the interpretation given by Kahnis (Lutherische Dog-
matik, Bd. i. (1861) p. 291) of Isa. i. 2 ; Jer. ii. 10-13, viii. 7.
1 K eerl, Die Apokryphen des A. T. Ein Zeugniss wider dieselben, Lpz. 1852.
Das "Wort Gottes u. die Apokr. 1853. Die Apokryphenfrage 1855. SchIirer,
Apokryphen des A .T ., P .R .-E . 2 Aufl. i. 485-511. Geschichte des jiid. Volkes
im Zeitalter J. Chr. 2 Aufl. 2 Th. 1886, p. 575 if. Merguet, Die Glaubens- u.
Sittenlehre des Buches Jes. Sirach, 1874.
the occasion of the spirit of particularism and of nomism
developing itself, and this spirit found an expression in the
post-canonical literature of Israel.
1. The particularistic ancl nomistic danger at the close o f

the canonical period.— The experiences of Israel during the
Babylonian exile, and the subjection following it, endangered
its national existence in the present, and with it also the
future of salvation, and they also brought a danger of being
dissolved among the heathen. The consequence was an
effort to avert this danger by close national combination, and
to establish the commonwealth on the most rigid maintenance
of its national order of life. And this was to be only a
means to an end, namely, to secure the future of salvation.
It was only too easy, however, for the means itself to become
the end. This then constitutes the false particularism and
nomism. In the canonical period and literature this particu
laristic nomism does not yet appear, but the possibilities and
connections of it are found showing themselves. This side of
things could not but unfold itself in the time of the exile.
The Book of Daniel is not, however, a proof of this. Bor the
painful care exhibited in it in avoiding defilement by food
(i. 8 ff.) and the maintenance of the external order of prayer
(vi. 10) are sufficiently explained by the whole position and
by the necessity of a rigid hedging in from heathen ways.
The words of Daniel to Nebuchadnezzar (iv. 27) are not to be
translated as in the Vulgate: peccata tua eleemosynis redime
et iniquitates tuas misericordiis pauperum,1 b u t: “ break off
from (PI?) thy sins by righteousness,2 and from thine iniquities
by showing mercy to the poor, if there may be a lengthening
of thy tranquillity;” i.e. Nebuchadnezzar is from now to
practise the royal virtues of justice and compassion, having
hitherto made himself guilty by wilfulness and cruelty; and
thereby, if it be possible, he shall keep threatening judgment
far from himself. Hence eternal salvation is not what is
dealt with here.® So in Prov. xvi. 6 we have the words:
“ By mercy and truth iniquity is purged; ” but only in this
1 Theodot: τας αμαρτίας σου ίλιημοσυναις λυτρ«σαι και τας αδικίας σου iv ο'κτιρμόΐς
«rivijTftiv.
2 Π ζ ΐ ϊ , not “ Alm s.” 3 Hofmann, Schriftbeweis, i. 593 f.
sense, as it goes on to sa y : “ and by the fear of Jehovah men
depart from evil” It is only where the former is that the
latter is also; not where there is merely external work, but
where there is the right internal sense. And similarly, the
passage in Isa. lviii. 7 means only to press for an exhibition
of the right disposition in contrast to mere external doing, if
Israel is to realize the comfort of salvation. But the New
Testament knowledge is not yet anywhere fully expressed
here; and a position like that of the exile, and still more of
the restoration, on the basis of the legal orders of the life of
Israel, included more strongly the danger of false particularistic
demarcation and nomistic accentuation of the law. The point
of connection for this was furnished by the activity of Ezra
the scribe; for his effort was directed towards the supremacy
of the law. This he made the basis of the new existence of
Israel (cf. Neh. viii.—x.). As the law was exclusively appre
hended as the divinely prescribed order of the commonwealth,
it was taken from its connection with the history of salvation
and its reference to the future of salvation. Thus it became
an external ordinance in its letter; and the relation between
Jehovah and the people was founded upon this law and its
observance. Thus the human attitude towards it received
fundamental significance, and it conditioned the higher rela
tionship, instead of that relationship as it had proceeded from
Jehovah being the presupposition of this human attitude and
conduct as it ought to be. This was the fundamental error
of Pharisaism.
2. The false nationalism o f the Apocryphal literature.— The
particularism of the period during which salvation was un
folded in the history of Israel was only a means to an end,
and the temporary bearer of the universalistic future as its
contents; but the means became more and more the end, and
the present took the place of the future. The election of
Israel thus appeared as a purely national prerogative, which
was regarded as founded on a natural basis, like the prerogatives
of other peoples. Thus the national spirit which pervades
1 Maccabees rests, in spite of the zeal shown for the law,
essentially upon a mistake regarding the distinction between
what is merely national and consequently natural, and what
belongs to the history of salvation. With this also disappears
the capacity of estimating what is individual in its significance
for the whole, and everything is equally glorified in a
rhetorical manner. Deeds and manifestations of a purely
worldly disposition are lauded as much as the products of the
proper religious spirit and life in Jehovah; and therefore the
secular and the sacred are here mixed up with one another
without distinction. In like manner the spirit of the Book
of Judith is that of a purely worldly and carnal national
patriotism; the deed it celebrates may no doubt be outwardly
compared with deeds of the time of the Judges, but it has
another soul.
3. External Nornism becomes combined with this false
nationalism. In the Book of Judith, there is conjoined with
self-willed carnal ways a rigid maintenance of the rules for food,
the regulations for purification, and the times of prayer; but
this is done in the sense of a merely external legality of works
unconnected with the sanctification of the disposition (viii.
4—6, ix. 1). The Book of Tobias, which is the product of an
exacting sense of piety, praises alms combined with fasting as
a means for the forgiveness of sins on the part of God
(iv. 11, 12, xii. 9). This inclination to a righteousness by
works is also shown in the Book of Jesus Siraeh, however
deserving this product of the religious spirit in Israel other
wise is of manifold recognition. Here, too, a sin-cancelling
and generally a saving power is ascribed to alms (iii. 33,
xxix. 15). The morality of this book generally is utilitarian
and eudaemonistic. Evil is to be avoided on account of the
evil consequences, and good is to be done on account of the
good consequences, entirely as in the ancient heathen ethics
and the common popular morality.— On the other hand, the
prophetic element with its Messianic hope retreats into the
background in these writings. The future could only be
conceived in accordance with the scheme of the present; that
is to say, that the present took the place of the future, and
the law the place of salvation. It is easy to see how this
false self-sufficiency and this absolutizing of the law internally
hang together. This, however, is the root of fanaticism. A ll
these phenomena are embraced in Pharisaism, and became a
system in Pharisaism.
§ 16. The Pharisaic Nomism}
The Pharisaic reflection makes the Old Testament law and

its fulfilment the basis and presupposition of the right
relationship between man and God, and consequently the
exclusive means of salvation. This false absolutizing of the
law is, at the same time, a mistaking of its position in the
history of salvation, and an externalization of it, as the
historically conditioned letter is raised to the position of
being the expression of the essential will of God, and that
will is thereby perverted by being represented as requiring an
external mode of acting through works. But as it is the law
of the Israelitish commonwealth, there is also posited there
with a false estimation of the Israelite nationality, and of the
fact of outwardly belonging to it as constituting a medium
of salvation. Thereby this way of thinking leaves the line
of the history of salvation, which has as its goal a moral
universalism founded in religion and not in nationality, and
determine^ by purely personal relations and not by external
facts. The Pharisaic nomism thus thereby loses itself by
passing into the naturalism of the heathen way of
thinking.
1. The Nomocracy.— The character of the Judaism after

the exile, from the time of Ezra and JSTehemiah, is nomocratic.
Prophecy recedes and ceases. A ll salvation is expected from
the law and from the observance of the law (Ezra ix. 13, 14).
This observance advances from its earlier position in which it
had to put into practice and manifest faith; and it rather
takes the place of faith as the basis of the relationship between
God and His people. Thus the being occupied with the1
1 Cf. W iner, Realworterb. ii. 244 ff. Ewald , Gesch. des Volkes Israel, 3
Aufl. 1864 ff., iv. 357 ff., 476 ff. K eim , Gesch. Jesu v. Naz. 1867, i. 250 ff.
Schurer in Riehm’s Handworterb. der bibl. Alterth. ii. 1187 ff. Gesch. d.
jiid. Yolks u. s. w., 2 Aufl. ii. 325 ff. W ellhausen, Die Pharis, u. Sadd.,
Greifsw. 1874. W eber, System der altsynag. palast. Theol., Lpz. 1880.
L azarus, Zur Charakteristik der talmudischen Ethik, Bresl. 1879. Sieffert,
P .R .-E .2 xiii. 210-244, where the other literature is also given.
Thora and its fulfilment appears as the most important thing
in religion. The pious become scribes, the synagogues become
schools, and the behaviour of the individual is legally circum
scribed down to the least detail. The Thora itself again
appears as the highest good, and becomes the centre of the
people even when an external centre and external community
no longer exist.
2. The Pharisees.— In the Pharisees, during the Hasmonean
age, this mode of thinking becomes fixed, and constitutes a
distinctive party among the people, which as such bears in
itself the character of “ separation,” and is in possession of
the religious influence upon the people, while the genteel
priestly party of Sadducees are in possession of the political
position and power. The principle of the Pharisees is the
absolute position and significance which they assign to the
Thora. The Thora is the exclusive salvation, life, and light
The religious disposition is therefore love to the Thora as the
highest good, and the religious process is the learning and
observing of the Thora. Accordingly, legality is the exclusive
form of religion. In particular it regulates the offering of
prayer, and makes it, as religiosity generally, a performance
exactly defined to the most minute details; and it is to be
presented to God with the hope of a corresponding performance
on the part of God in return, i.e. reward. But as such an
exact study and such punctual observance of the law in
common life and for all, is not possible, it becomes confined to
a religious aristocracy who, in their occupation with it, walk
on the way of perfection, and whose merit then comes to be
available for the good of others. This is the type of a later
distinction in the Church, which was also prepared on another
side by the ancient philosophy.
3. Righteousness by works.— The fundamental error consists
in a dislocation of the normal relationship between God and
man. The history of salvation had made known the relation
ship of grace from the side of God, to which faith had to
correspond, as the basis of the covenant-fellowship. This
fellowship then exhibited itself in the observance of the
divine will, - and in such a way that the individual and
external requirements appeared only as limitations which
concealed the germ of universalisin. The place of this basis
is now taken by the requirement on the side of God and the
corresponding behaviour on the side of m an; and then the
behaviour of God towards man is also determined accordingly.
The place of faith is therefore now taken by the doing of the
law ; faith itself becomes legal performance; and this partly
intellectual and partly practical performance of righteousness
then claims recognition from God, so that there is activity on
the side of man and passivity on the side of God.1 Fellow
ship with God is thereupon always measured according to the
amount of this righteousness. This fellowship is therefore
continually only in the state of becoming, and is never
certain. A ll this is a prototype of future aberrations, which
likewise put the subjective attitude in a false order before the
objective relationship.
4. The national Particularism.— Now the law regarded as
the medium of salvation is the law of Israel; and this is the
privilege of Israel before all other peoples. Accordingly
Israel itself thus obtains importance as the medium of salva
tion; and in consequence of this the fact of belonging to
Israel has a saving value. The merely historical significance
of Israel in reference to salvation is thereby made eternal;
and with the law, its nationalism is also made absolute,
whereas the other nationalities are declared as such to be
unholy and excluded from salvation. This is a negation of
the universalism which the particularism of the Old
Testament nevertheless carried in its bosom. This sole
saving nationality likewise became a prototype of future
aberration.
5. The naturalizing o f morality.— Further, all nationality,
including that of Israel as such, belongs to the natural basis
of life ; and the orders of the external commonwealth accord
ingly bore the same character in themselves. With the
Israelitish nationality the external order of life is therefore
also stamped by Pharisaism as conditioning salvation, and
consequently as of moral value. Accordingly the moral is
placed in the externality of things and practices, i.e. in the
natural side of the subjective behaviour, instead of in the
inward relation of the personal disposition towards the
essential will of God, which formed the substance of the
1 Cf. Schlatter, Der Glaube im N . T., Leiden, 1885, p. 45 ff.
precepts of the law.1 This is a naturalizing of morality, such
as was the case with the ancient paganism. Pharisaism thus
diverges from the line of the history of salvation to the path
of heathenism, to which it, however, sought to put itself into
direct opposition. But it was not an inward opposition of
substance, but only an outward opposition of form. Hence its
manner is placed in the Hew Testament on a line with that
of heathenism (Matt. vi. 7). Thus the renewal o f Pharisaism
in the Church could not but be at the same time a renewal
of heathenism in a Christian form. Against this Pharisaic
principle the proclamation of Christ is directed; and the
same holds of the renewed antagonism of Paul, as well as of
Luther in a later day.
§ 17. The Essene Asceticism.1

2
If Pharisaism represents righteousness by works in the

positive and active sense, and its influence upon the national
life from the point of view of the Scribe, Essenism represents
righteousness by works in the negative and ascetic sense in
the form of monastic retirement from the world, and under
the point of view of priestly purity.
1. The Esscncs. — The Essene communities, according to

the accounts of Philo and Josephus, numbered about 4,000
members in Palestine. They lived, partly separated from
the other Jews in colonies on the Dead Sea, and partly
scattered about among the rest of the people. They formed
a closed order (τάγμα), with strictly regulated conditions of
admission and of the order of life. They observed community
of goods, abstinence from all luxury and pleasure, and mostly
1 Schlatter, Der Glaube, etc., p. 52 : “ The Law is resolved into a system

of juridical rules which abstracts from the inward life and leaves it relatively
free, and only regulates the external side of action, and in it holds itself and
God to be satisfied.”
2Zeller, Philos. derGriechen, iii. 2, pp. 277-338. R itschl, Altkath. Kirche,
pp. 179-203. SchUrer, Gesch. der jiid. Volkes, 2 Aufl. ii. 1886, pp. 467-493.
U hlhorn, P. R .-E ., 2 Aufl. iv. pp. 341-344. K eim, Gesch. Jesu v. Nazara, i.
1867, pp. 282-306. Lucius, Der Essenismus in s. Yerhss. zum Judenth.,
Strassb. 1881. D emmler, Der Essenismus, Theol. Stud, aus Wtirttbg. 1880,
i. 29 ff. '
also from marriage. They busied themselves with agriculture
and peaceful arts, but they kept away from extensive com
merce and similar occupations directed to the acquisition of
money, and rejected war, as well as slavery. Their morality
consisted in reverence towards God, the practice of justice
and mercy, and above all of truthfulness and strict obedience
towards superiors. The course of their day was filled up
with prayer, labour and ablutions, and religious meals. They
prayed at the dawn of the day with their faces turned towards
the sun. They kept the Sabbath, but they rejected bloody
offerings, and therefore took no part in the temple worship,
although they sent votive offerings to the temple.
2. The negative and ascetic character o f their righteousness
by works.— The pre-Christian limitation of a positive objective
estimation of the moral is not surmounted here any more
than in Pharisaism. Only morality bears here a more nega
tive and ascetic character in itself than in the Pharisaic
nomisrn. Wherever morality is positively, i.e. naturally,
apprehended along with positive practice of it, there also
appears the negative form of ascetic abstinence which is
regarded as a higher stage of morality. Such asceticism
developed itself on Jewish as well as on heathen soil. This
negative morality, with its lauded but fundamentally negative
virtues of modesty, meekness, and such like,1 is at the same
time a withdrawal from the public national life, and the
renunciation of any influence upon it. The individual seeks
only to preserve himself, and gives up the people as such; or,
in other words, he renounces the exercise of a moral calling
in the world because he despairs of its possibility. The place
of the moral calling is taken by the religious shaping of life,
but in the form of external practices. This requires, not
merely withdrawal from the other life in the world, but also
orderly association in a particular community, or the monastic
form of life. Monasticism thus took form in Israel among
the Essenes as in analogous phenomena on heathen soil.
3. The point o f view o f priestly purity.— The thought which
lies at the basis of this striving for self-preservation in retire
ment from the world, is that the life in the world and the
sphere of the natural are as such defiling. This point of view
1 Joseph. Bell. Jud. ii. 8. 6.
VOL. I. E
of defilement and purification— by means only of what is
natural or physical— was developed by inner necessity in the
heathen reflection; and it was likewise developed here on
Israelite soil. The Old Testament view of Levitical defile
ment and purification formed its starting-point; for it seemed
that the Law would not require such purifications unless the
world of natural things were an impure world. Now, as this
purity was required above all of the priests, and as Israel
was called a priestly people, that purity has also to exhibit
itself in this people. But as this did not apply to the whole
people, it should at least hold good of this selection out of
the people, and it should exhibit itself in their community.
The priestly purity was in this case what the knowledge of
the written law and its practice was in the case of Pharisaism.
But both lie in the periphery, not in the centre of the personal
life and of its immediate relationship to G o d ; and they
are therefore not grounded upon true morality and right
religion.1
4. Foreign influences.— It has been maintained that foreign
influences operated in the formation of Essenism,— whether
originating in Parseeism, as Hilgenfeld and Schiirer believe, or
in Pythagoreanism, as Zeller holds, or as is most improbable in
Buddhism, as others suppose. But it follows from what has
been said that it will hardly be necessary to accept any such
view. Points of contact are found, but they took form
involuntarily. It is only the ascetic view taken of the body
as a chain for the soul into which it has been brought by a
fall, that appears to lead us beyond the bounds of the
Israelitish way of contemplating things. But it was a
necessary consequence of the ascetic way of thinking
generally ; and foreign influences may have worked upon
its development without, however, producing it. Essenism is
thus to be considered as an Israelitish formation, and it
may be regarded as the other, negative side of Pharisaism;
but without its influence upon the life of the people. It was
not till a later time that its influences were able to make
themselves seen in the ascetic tendencies that arose in the
1 On and against the view of Lucius, who erroneously refers the beginning of
the striving of the Essenes after purity to Deut. xxiii. 6-14, see Konig in
Herzog’s Encycl. (2) xiii. 635.
Church, and that they came into contact with those that
sprang out of the soil of the ancient paganism.
III. T h e H e l l e n is t ic U n iv e r s a l is m .
§ 18. Transition to the false Universalism.
While prophecy taught a future universalism of salvation,

and the Chokmah literature represented the God of the history
of salvation as the God of the world, the Jewish thinking in
the post-canonical time came into contact on the Alexandrian
soil with the ancient Philosophy, and particularly with the
Stoic system and its cosmical universalism, and the Jewish
thinkers turned round towards this Hellenistic universalism.
While they sought to find and prove this universalism in the
Old Testament, and particularly in the Thora, they believed that
thereby they had overcome the Old Testament particularism,
and that in it they possessed the true glorification of Israel.1
2
1. The true Universalism o f Israel is the centre of the Old

Testament particularism in two of its form s: prophecy and
the Chokmah literature. Prophecy proclaimed the salvation
which is attached to Israel and to the House of David, as a
salvation destined for all the world. Thus the universalism
of salvation grows out of the particularism of the history of
salvation. It has found its fulfilment in Christianity. But
the voice of prophecy was silent from Malachi, — and the
prophetic understanding and interest then sank into the
background. The Chokmah literature, however, applied its
reflection to the contemplation of the world, and to the
divine teleology in the world and in human life ; and it
advanced from the knowledge of God as given in the history
of salvation, and came to regard the God of the historical
salvation as also the God of the world.
2. The cosmical turn o f thought. — With this movement
the Hellenistic, and especially the Alexandrian mode of
thought comes to connect itself. Through the mixing of the
peoples brought about by Alexander the Great, the cosmo-
political state of mind and mode of thinking were introduced,
and they had found a place above all in Alexandria. The
Alexandrian Judaism now entered within this influence; but
it took this turn, that instead of conceiving and exhibiting
the God of the revelation of salvation as also the God of the
world, as the Chokmah had done, it rather sought to appre
hend and exhibit the God of the world as the God of revela
tion ; or, in other words, it resolved the God of salvation into
the God of the cosmos, and the revelation of salvation into
the cosmos and its laws and orders. This looked like the Old
Testament universalism,yet it was nevertheless the opposite of it.
3. Influences and Motives.— This turn of Jewish thought
was brought about, partly by contact with the Greek world
generally, behind whose self-consciousness the Jewish thinkers
did not wish to remain. It was also partly brought about by
contact with the Greek philosophy, and especially with the
Stoic philosophy and its cosmical universalism.1 As Phari
saism was a shutting up of Judaism against the Greek world
and a fixing of itself in the national particularism of Israel,
Alexandrinism was the opening up of it towards the Greek
world and the reception of the cosmical universalism from
the waning philosophy. But if Pharisaism is pride in the
prerogative of the particular nationality of Israel over other
peoples, this Hellenistic universalism is not less a product of
national vanity, which seeks to prove that the knowledge of
truth in the Hellenic philosophy was a primeval possession
of Israel. But in fact this demonstration is only given by
first importing this foreign element into the Old Testament
Scriptures, and then showing it to be there by the untruth
fulness of the allegorical method. For while it supposes it
enriches its own possession by this process, it really only
destroys its most essential speciality.
4. The Old Testament Apocrypha.— While the other Old
Testament Apocrypha indicate the turn to Pharisaism with
its righteousness by works and its national particularism, the
Book o f Wisdom, with all its connection with the mode of
thinking which is in accordance with the revelation of
salvation, shows the beginnings of this cosmical universalism.2
For, what is here said of wisdom passes over the lines of the
Chokmah in Job and Proverbs to the path of emanation and
1 Heinze, Lehre vom Logos, 1872, p. 184 ff. 2 Heinze, p. 193 ff.
the cosmical principle. This Jewish universalism is dis
tinguished, however, from the Stoic universalism by its mono
theistic presupposition which prevents it identifying the
reason that rules in the cosmos with the D e ity ; but it
approaches it in this, that it makes the universal principle
of wisdom in the world an emanation from the divine Being
Himself (vii. 25), and thus obliterates the boundary line
between God and the cosmos. As the universal principle
it is also the knowledge of the cosmical life, without any
reference to the thought of salvation in this knowledge
(xvii. 7 ff.). The same principle is beheld as ruling instead
of Jehovah in the history of Israel (e.g. x. 17). It is also
the source of the morality of this book, which is described in
the manner of the Stoics according to the four cardinal
virtues as they proceed from “ wisdom ” (viii. 7). The quad-
ruplicity of the division certainly recommended itself here on
account of its reference to the cosmos; and in like manner
the significance of the Old Testament order is found in its
reference, not to the future salvation, but to the cosmos. A
likeness to the world is seen in the robe of the high priest,
and its four rows of ornaments are emphasized (xviii. 24).
In this there already lies the whole principle of the cosmical
interpretation of the Law in Philo. It involves a quite
different interest from that of the Old Testament. The
explanation of the world takes the place of the redemption
of the world, and the interest of philosophical knowledge
takes the place of the interest of salvation. It is a spurious
universalism which is then given out as the prerogative of
Israel.
§ 19. The Philonic Universalism}
The cosmical universalizing of the Old Testament law is

also accompanied in Philo with its resolution into the uni
versal natural law of the Stoics. In the contemplation and
observation of this universal law of nature, morality, according1
1Dahne, Gesch. Darst. der jiid. alex. Religionsphilosophie, i. 1839. Ewald,

Gesch. des Volks Isr. vi. 268 ff. Z eller, Philosophic der Griechen, iii. 2,
pp. 338-418. H einze, Lehre v. Logos, 1872, p. 204 ff. Z ockler, P. R.*E.a
xi. 636 ff. SoHtfttER, Gesch. des jiid. Volkes, ii. 831 ff., 866 f. Schurer and
Zockler give the rest of the literature.
to Philo’s view, consists: only that the religious grounding of
morality is monotheistic in Philo, and not pantheistic as in
Stoicism. But as his monotheism is not that of the historical
salvation but a cosmical monotheism, his ethics were confined
within the bounds of naturalism. Philo thus placed morality
in spirituality, and consequently resolved the moral ideal into
the religious practice of an ascetic negation of nature. And
thus his position came to coincide with the religious strivings
on the ancient soil, in the sense of an ascetic mysticism and
wisdom of life.
1. The fusion o f the Jewish and Hellenic modes o f thought

had been prepared in Alexandria, and it was there brought to
a conclusion by Philo. He did this by maintaining and pre
tending that all the higher wisdom of the Hellenes could be
shown to be contained in the Thora as an ancient possession
of Israel from the time of Moses. In carrying out this view
he had to make use of the most arbitrary allegorizing; and in
reality what he did was to import those thoughts which arose
outside of Israel into the Old Testament literature and reflec
tion, and thereby he divested them of their special and
peculiar character. He put the Stoic universalism of the
cosmical speculation into the place of the universalism of the
prophets which was founded upon the history of salvation,
only with the modification which his monotheism required
that the Logos of the Stoics, the divine universal Eeason of
the world, could not be identical with God Himself, as was
held by the Stoics, but occupied in his view a middle position
between God and the world. But this monotheism also under
went a deflection in the sense of the philosophical speculation.
Its God is no longer the concrete God of the positive historical
revelation of salvation, but the unqualified (αποιος) Monad,
in the sense of an abstraction from the world. It is there
fore a perfection in the sense of absolute Being, which is on
the one hand the negation of the world, and on the other
its all-efficient causality. Through this universalism and its
antithesis of God and world, to which the antithesis of
spirit and matter corresponds, the morality of the system
is likewise determined.
2. The univcrsalism o f Philo's moral doctrine. — The con
sequence of this universalistic way of thinking was that Philo
resolved the positive moral Law of the Old Testament into a
universal law of nature, which was the same in the sphere of
nature and in morals. With this position the specific character
of the moral sphere was annulled. The written Law of Moses
was only an outline of the original universal law of nature,
according to which the patriarchs already lived and from
which the heathen fell away. This law found a symbolical
representation in the Law of the Old Testament cultus, but it
likewise rose again into consciousness in the Greek reflection,
and especially in the moral philosophy of the Stoics. Thus,
in accordance with that philosophy, Philo indicates as to
τελο 9, το άκοΧούθϋκ ry φ ύσα ζη ν; and lie adopted the
four Platonic cardinal virtues of the Stoa, only that Israel
already had this knowledge as an ancient possession in the
four streams of Paradise as the place of the virtues. The
practice of virtue, however, is determined, according to Philo,
by the opposition or antithesis of body and soul.
3. The ascetic character o f Philo's ethics.— The antithesis of
soul and body, reason and sense, corresponds to the antithesis
of God and the world. The body and its sensuous nature is
to Philo the source of all evils; it is the prison, the grave of
the soul. In this consists the essence of sin, which is there
fore as universal as bodily existence. This, however, is a
naturalizing of sin and of morality which, sprung from a
heathen root, must have here too the same consequence of
an ascetic morality. Philo likewise agrees expressly with
the Stoa in other respects, as in the distinction of the wise
man and the progressive man, in the description of the wise
man, and in the definition of the highest good.1 In the
writing commonly entitled Quod omnis probus liber he carries
out the proposition that every virtuous man is free, and cites
as proofs of it the Greek and Indian gymnosophists and the
Essenes, so that he completely represents the later stoical
ascetic tendency. Thus in his view the moral task does not
consist merely in limitation, but in complete negation of the
desires and passions; not in metriopathy but in apathy; and
so far as the inevitable natural wants are concerned, the
1 On the Stoic elements in Philo, see Heinze, u.s. pp. 208 if., 277.
utmost moderation is to be observed. In this depreciation
of all that is external the royal liberty of the wise man is
exhibited. Only this moral task is not to be reached and
realized by one’s own reason and power. The Logos by
which this task is to be solved is not in Philo’s view, as it
was to the Stoics, the proper reason of the universe indwell
ing in the individual man, but it is the reason and power
proper to God, and mediating between God and what is out
of the divine. The Old Testament standpoint of Philo there
fore modified the moral doctrine of the Stoics in this sense.
It involved the position that piety, according to his view, is
the mother of the virtues, that reference to God is the right
motive of all acting, and that communion with God is the
goal of man. Morality is thus more religiously grounded and
regulated in Philo than in the Stoics. But this regulation is
determined according to the abstract apprehension of the
D e ity ; and thus morality is also negation of the sensuous
and cosmical reality in order to belong already in this present
life to the spiritual world (the κόσμος νοητός). It is always
with internal repugnance that the wise man devotes himself
even to worldly and political affairs; he sees in them only a
necessary evil. His ideal is life in the contemplation of the
Divine. The highest stage is ecstasy, in which the individual
divests himself of his finite consciousness while relating him
self in a purely passive way towards God, abandons sensuous
being and thinking, and is filled and moved by the divine
Spirit as a will-less organ. It is thus that the finite has
part in the infinite. This view of ethics thus issues entirely
in that ascetic mysticism which is characteristic of Neo-Pytha-
goreanism and Neo-Platonism.1 These symptoms confound
the moral task with a purely spiritual elevation, and put the
process of moralization in desensualization; and thus with all
their opposition to nature they do nevertheless only establish
the natural principle of the heathen religion and morality.
The truth of morality could only form the opposite of this.
1 Hence Philo is designated at times in the ancient Church as a Platonist, as

in the saying: « Πλάτην φιλα»ίζιι ν Φίλα» *·λατα>*ίζιι (HieroR. Vir. illustr. c. 11),
and at other times as a Pythagorean, as in Clem. Alex. Strom, i. 15. 7 2 :
i Uu6*yiput{ Φίλα» ; ii. 19. 100. Euseb. Ή. E. ii. 4. 3 : μάλιατα rn* xara Πλάταινα
xai Πυίαγίραν iζηλαιχαΐί αγαιγιί».
4. The Therapeutic Ideal.— It is a controverted question
as to whether the writing entitled Be vita contemplativa which
has been handed down under Philo’s name, and which gives
a description of the Therapeutae, is actually by Philo. It has
been rejected, particularly by Lucius,1 who holds it to be an
apology of Christian asceticism written under Philo’s name, and
dating from the end of the third century. Almost all critical
writers, such as Harnack and Schiirer,2 agree with this view.
Zeller accepts it, with the modification that the composition
is a product of Ebionitic asceticism resting upon dualistic
speculation. In any case, the Therapeutse are to be regarded
as essentially different from the Essenes. They do not form
an order like the Essenes, but an association of anchorites.
Their time was much more exclusively devoted to contempla
tion and religious exercises. Women also took part in their
association, their religious services, and their associated meals.
Asceticism is more thoroughly carried out by the Therapeutic
than by the Essenes; their fasts sometimes lasted for a week,
and they entirely rejected marriage. It is said that there
were “ such everywhere in the world; for not only the
Greeks, but also the barbarians wished to participate in such
a perfect good.” Most of them, however, were in Egypt,
especially in the region around Alexandria beyond the lake
Mareotis, where they formed a colony, living in separate huts.
It is said of their sacred dances that they began at first with
the men and women separated, and then they were united
into one choir (καθάπερ iv βακχβίαις άκρατου σπάσαντβς).
But this seems too much after the fashion of heathens for us
to think of Jews or Christians; and the statement about the
spread of the Therapeutse among the Greeks and barbarians
points to this view. I f what is said in chaps, iii. vii. and
viii. concerning the Holy Scriptures does not form an obstacle
to this view, we have here the description of an ascetic
enthusiastic life which grew up on a natural heathen basis as
the ideal of the moral perfection of the true citizen of heaven
and the world. Were the writing to be ascribed to Philo, it
would be a witness rather to his mingling and confusing of
the Old Testament view with the natural heathen way of
1 Die Therapeuten, 1879.
a A. Harnack in Herzog Encycl. 2 Aufl. xv. 584 ff. Schiirer, u.s. p. 863 f.
thinking. But even if it is not his, and if it is a sort of
romantic invention, yet its standpoint is within the οοηΒβημβηοθβ
of his ethical views. This perversion of moral truth was all
the more dangerous on account of its anti-sensual spirituality,
because it was more difficult to understand than the original
natural growth, and it was time that the truth itself should
appear face to face with it.
The particularistic nomism and the Hellenistic univer
sal ism were two one-sided positions into which the Old
Testament preparation had fallen asunder. Either the par
ticularism had extracted the universalism which formed its
kernel, or the universalism had stripped off the particularism,
and thus left the path of the historical salvation. In the
former case the letter of the Law was declared to be what
was universally valid ; in the latter case the cosmical univer
salism was represented as the secret truth of the letter. In
the former case, as well as in the latter, the truth of the
moral factor was therefore misapprehended and confounded
with στοιχεία του κόσμου; and accordingly it was conceived
in a wholly positive external way. In both cases, however,
it was overlooked that the basis of the position of the in
dividual must be the relationship of grace from the side of
God, to which faith from the side of men has to correspond.
In the former case, the principle of man’s conduct was placed
in the righteousness of working, in the latter in the perfec
tion of abstinence. The truth could not but consist in the
relationship of grace becoming a reality, and, on that basis, of
conduct becoming really moral, as being thus founded on a
personal reference to God, and through it also to the world.
HISTORY OF C H R I S T I A N ETHICS.
0 -
THE ETHICS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.

L
I. T h e P r o c l a m a t io n of the T ruth in the G o s p e l s .1

2
§ 20. The realization o f communion and fellowship with God

in Christs person and work.
T h e speciality of the New Testament revelation consists in
the actual realization of the previously typified and prepared

communion with God in the person and in the work of
Jesus Christ by which the objective relationship of the grace
of God to men is established; and it forms the necessary
presupposition of the corresponding relationship and conduct
of man.
1. Christ as the goal o f the preceding history o f the Old

Testament.— The Old Testament history is, in the form of the
national history of Israel, the history of the process of salva
tion, i.e. of communion or fellowship with God as it becomes
realized ; and this history is presented in a prior symbolical and
typical representation, and in prior prophetic proclamation.
This pre-represented and pre-proclaimed future is realized in
the person of Jesus Christ in whom the Word became flesh.
In this sense He is announced and greeted as He in whom the
history of Israel is to find its goal (Matt. i. 1 -1 7 ; Luke i. 32 f.,
5 5 ); as He in whom the new day of salvation is to break
when Jehovah will visit His people (Luke i. 68 f., 78). The
1W eizsacker, Die Anfange christlicher Sitte, Jahrbb. f. d. Theol. 1876, pp.

1- 36. A lbr. T homa, Geschichte der christl. Sittenlehre in der Zeit desN .Ts.,
Haarlem (Sittenlehre Jesu, Pauli, der Gemeinde).
20 . FlPgel, Die Sittenlehre Jesu, Langensalza (1887), 1888. (Edited from
Allihn’s MSS. Follows the ideas of Herbart’s Moral Philosophy.)
77
presence of Jehovah in His people is then to be a present fact
{Immanuel: Matt. i. 23). With this forgiveness of sins is
realized (Luke i. 77 ; Matt. i. 2 1 ); and the presupposition
of the new covenant prophesied by Jer. xxxi. 34 becomes
fact. W ith this goal of Israel, however, the salvation of the
heathen is likewise attained (Luke ii. 31 f . ) ; and therefore
the universalism of the new time is also realized (Luke ii. 1 :
Cccsar Augustus). It is therefore this fact, and not new
doctrines, laws, notions, and such like, which forms what is
new in the new time of fulfilment.
2. The person o f Jesus Christ.— The significance of this fact
rests on the person of Jesus Christ and its significance. The
witness of the Synoptic Gospels and that of John complete
each other. In the synoptic proclamation, testimony is
given to Jesus in His relationship to the Old Testament as
the goal of the Old Testament: 6 Χ ριστός, the goal of the Old
Testament longing (Matt. xiii. 1 7 ; Luke x. 24), as the Lord
of the House of David (Matt. xxii. 43 f.), the fulfilment of
the law (Matt. v. 17), and more than the temple (Matt. xii. 6).
He is also represented in His relationship to the com
munity of God as its bridegroom (Matt. ix. 15, xxii. 2 ); in
His relationship to individuals as the goal of every human
soul (Matt. xi. 28 f . ) ; and in His relationship to humanity
as its goal as the “ Son of Man ; ” 1 and His relation to the
world as its Lord (Matt. xiii. 24 ff., 36 ff.), to whom there
fore is committed the fate of things for eternity (Matt. xvi. 25;
xxv. 34 ff.). In short, He is not merely a part of the world,
He has an absolute relationship to the world (Matt. xi. 2 7 );
but this rests upon His essential relationship to God, on His
Sonship in the absolute sense (Matt. xi. 27). How this
relationship forms the theme of the Johanuine proclamation.
Christ is represented in the Gospel of John as having in
dependent possession of the divine life (v. 2 6 ); as in fellow
ship with the divine working (v. 17 ff.), and of divine
capability, resting upon the community of essence of Father
and Son and their complete union in each other (x. 33, 38).
He is therefore the absolute revelation, and the presence of the
Father Himself (xiv. 9 ff.; chap, x v ii.); wherefore He also
claims a corresponding recognition (v. 27). This goes far
1 Cf. the works on N . T. Theology, and Grau’s Selbstbewusstsein Jesu, 1887.
beyond mere harmony of will, and includes an essential
relation of being in itself, which on that account is eternal.
There is therefore a new relationship between God and man
actually realized in the Person of Jesus Christ; and through
this there is given for men in Him the real principle of sonship
with God, and fellowship with God, which is then also the
norm and power of their conformity with God.
3. The Word o f Jesus Christ— The salvation of fellowship
with God concluded in Jesus Christ, is expressed by Him in
the word of His testimony. This testimony is therefore a
bringing home of the conviction both of the necessity and of
the helplessness of men as regards salvation in behoof of
repentance; as well as of the reality of salvation in Him, and
therefore of the saving grace of God in behoof of faith. This
testimony accordingly opens up a new knowledge of the
moral reality of man in distinction from the moral knowledge
of the ancient world. Sin is no longer known as error or
obscuration of insight, but as a central perversion of the
person, as a matter of the heart in its relationship to God.
“ Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts ” This leads to an
entirely different moral estimate of life from that which was
current in the ancient world. Corresponding to it, the way
of salvation is no longer placed in knowledge, and rising by it
to the world of the divine, but it is recognised in the gift of
God as given in the person of Christ, and its appropriation in
repentant faith. W ith this there is opened up the possibility
of a real new moral power and actuality.
4. The work o f Christ— The will of God actualized in Him
and witnessed in His word, had to be fulfilled by Christ in
the work of His life, and He had thus to make it a constituent
part’ of the history of mankind. This is the “ counsel of God ”
(βουλή, Luke vii. 30), the divine Θέλημα (Matt. xxvi. 4 2 ;
John iv. 34, and elsewhere) and εντολή (John x. 18 and
frequently); and it makes His doing and suffering a unique
epyov (John iv. 34, xvii. 4). The point of this His life-work
is His death. His course of life tended to this from the
beginning. He refers to His death as the condition of His
significance for the future (John x. 17), and foretells it
— always the more clearly— as the necessary issue of His life ;
and in founding the memorial of the last evening, He calls it the
new covenant, which rests upon the forgiveness of sin: et?
άφ€σιν αμαρτιών (Jer. xxxi. 31 ff.). He passes through His
death on to the new activity which He has to exercise from
God over the whole world (John xvii.), and which is actively
carried out through His Spirit in the activity of those who
are His on earth (John xiv. 16 if., xv. 1 ff., xvi. 7 ff.;
Matt, xxviii. 18 if).
5. The new relationship o f God to men which is thus realized
in Christ is the Father-relationship: not in the sense of creation,
but in the sense of redemption. For in and with Christ, the
Son of God in the absolute sense, the fatherly relation of God
to those who are Christ’s is also given as a new relationship.
Since then, we call God “ our Father ” (Matt. vi. 9), not merely
as Homer called Zeus the father of gods and men, nor as the
Eomans spoke of Diespiter (Diei pater).1 For what was given
in Adam who “ was God’s ” (Luke iii. 38), and what had
then become in Israel a father-relationship of Jehovah to this
people, is now realized in Christ for all men, but only in H im ;
for in Him they are God’s (John xvii.). This objective fact
is the presupposition of all that is subjective.
§ 2 L The human Answer o f Faith?
The God-produced principle of conduct, corresponding to

the self-witness of Jesus, is Faith, which appropriates the new
relationship of grace, and thus makes man participative of the
salvation of communion and fellowship with God as it is
realized in Christ.
1. The requirement o f faith. — In the person and life-work

of Jesus Christ, the salvation of fellowship with God for
salvationless humanity is realized and concluded: and it is
authenticated in the Word in behoof of its appropriation in
faith, which appropriation is effected through the knowledge
of man’s want of salvation. The Word thus becomes the
principle and object of faith (John iv. 41 f.), which has Christ
Himself as the salvation for its subject, and therefore in His
1 Cf* Zinzow, Der Vaterbegriff bei den rom. Gottheiten 1887.
2 Schlatter, Der Glaube im N. T. Eine Untersuchung zur neutest. Theologie,
Leiden 1885.
inner. essence and significance. Thereby faith obtains here
quite another significance from what it had in the Jewish
nomism. In the latter, it is a thing accomplished by man, in
itself only an intellectual operation, along with which comes
the practical side of works; and for this double performance
reward is expected from God. Man is thus put into activity,
God into passivity. In the Hew Testament representation
God’s deed is the primary and fundamental thing, and man is
relegated to acceptance and reception of the divine performance
in faith. In this sense faith is demanded by Jesus from the
beginning to the end. And this is not merely in the Gospel
of John where faith determines the whole progress of the
Gospel record, but also in the Synoptists. For, the Sermon
on the Mount, because primarily spoken to the disciples
(cf. Luke vi. 20), also implies faith in Him, because it pre
supposes discipleship. And in like manner the same holds
of the miracles of healing; they are done in accordance with
faith (Matt. ix. 27 ff.), and always according as faith seeks
mere external healing or essential healing, which is the
forgiveness of sin or the relationship of grace in Jesus
(Matt. ix. 1 if.). Hor was it her love which availed the
woman who was a sinner (Luke vii. 36 ff.),1— it only proved
the reception of forgiveness,— but it was that faith (vii. 50)
which consoled itself with the grace of forgiveness.
2. The essential nature o f faith is formally a thing of
inwardness and freedom; it does not consist of a doing, but
of an inner personal relationship, perhaps occasioned by
external signs and wonders, yet not resting ultimately upon
these, but loosened from them and resting upon the Word
(cf. John iv. 47 ff, and the interpretation in my commentary).
That is to say, faith is called forth by the impression of the
person of Jesus Himself made through the medium o f the
w ord; and it is therefore a personal relationship to the person
of Jesus, and, moreover, an all-sided, because central relation
ship. And hence it is designated as contemplative and
appropriating cognition (Oecopelv, John [iii. 15] vi. 40 ;
ψνώσκβίν, John vi. 69, x. 38, xviL 6 — 8), as entering
into and agreeing with the will (Χαμβάνβιν, John iii. I l f . ;
1 Against the common Roman Catholic interpretation as well as that of De
Wette, Olshausen, Baum.-Crus., and Bleek, which is contrary to the connection.
VOL. I. F
εργεσθαι προς αυτόν, John iii. 20 f., v. 40, vi. 35, 37, 44, 45,
6 5 ; άκούειντης φωνής, John x . ; άκολουθεΐν, John viii. 12);
as inmost appropriation (eating and drinking of His flesh and
blood, chap, v i.); and so community and fellowship (chap. xvii.).
3. The operation o f faith is reception of salvation (Luke
xix. 9) imaged forth in the miracles of healing, and especially
of the forgiveness of sin (Luke vii. 48), or of renewed sonship
or adoption (Luke xv.) ; and therefore of the grace-relationship
of God to men realized in Christ. Along with this, it is
negatively deliverance from the previous oppressive burden
which prevented the attainment of joyfulness (Matt. xi. 2 8 ,3 0 );
or, objectively expressed, it is liberation from the wrath of God
(John iii. 36), rescue from a world hostile to God, and with
this it is preservation from judgment and destruction (κρίσις,
v. 24, xii. 3 1 ; απώλεια, iii. 16 ff.), or from death (John v. 24,
etc.). Positively, it is saving, salvation (σωτηρία, John iii. 17),
God-childship (John i. 12 f.), through regeneration (John iii.),
in communication of life (iii. 15 f., v. 24, 29, etc.) and of
light (iii. 19, ix. 4, 5, xii. 35 f.). In short, it is a new real
saving relationship.
§ 22. The new disposition o f Faith.
This new relationship to God in faith is likewise the power

of a new principle of conduct in the renewed disposition, which
begins with the subjective change of repentance, manifests
itself in love to God and to our neighbour, and puts forth its
activity in prayer and trust in God.
1. The new relationship between God and man which is

historically realized in Christ, and which becomes appropriated
by man through faith, is the presupposition of the new mode of
conduct; the new being is the presupposition of what-is-to-be,
etc., and not conversely. In this consists the difference
between the moral doctrine of Jesus and the nomistic ethics
of Israel and of the heathen world. That appropriation in
faith of the new relation between God and man actually
presented in Christ, is realized in an inward state of disposition
wrought by God which has its beginning in repentance as the
presupposition pf faith. Μ ετανοείτε is the first exhortation
of Jesus as well as of the Baptist (Matt. iv. 1 7 ); and there is
joy in heaven over a sinner that repenteth (Luke xv. 7, 10).
In repentance, conversion is accomplished as the turning away
from our own old nature and turning unto God (βιτιστροφή,
Luke xxii. 32). Its constituent elements, as shown by the
history of the Prodigal Son or the publican in the temple, are
self-knowledge, self-humiliation, self-judgment (Luke xv. 17,
21, xviii. 13, 14). Out of this feeling of spiritual poverty
(Matt. v. 3 f.) and oppression (Matt. xi. 28) grows the hunger
and thirst after God and His grace (Matt. v. 6 ; John vii. 37).
And thus is realized the return to God in faith which makes
the objective salvation given in Christ a personal fact of the
individual in his relationship to God.
2. Love is the manifestation and verification of faith. The
Sermon on the Mount describes love (Luke vi.) as the true
righteousness (Matt, v.-vii.), not as a new law or as a perfect
ing of the Mosaic la w 1 in the subjective disposition; but
because the words are spoken primarily to the disciples under
presupposition of attachment to Jesus in faith, as an exhibi
tion of the disposition which must be proper to faith, if it is
to be of a right kind. Love is thus described as love to God
above everything, with denial of all else (Matt. x. 37 f.) and
to our neighbour without any distinguishing and questioning
(Luke x. 25 ff.). In contrast to the atomistic exposition of
the law by the Scribes and fulfilment of the law by the
Pharisees, Jesus designates this love as properly the one and
essential will of God, as it lies at the basis of all that is
individual in the law.
Jesus elsewhere gives as the sum “ of the law and the
prophets,” a resumd which .sounds purely formal, and such as
might also be laid down by prudence, as in Matt. vii. 1 2 :
“ A ll things therefore whatsoever ye would that men should
do unto you, even so do ye also unto them.” Yet in this
there is implied an appreciation of others which puts them
on equality with our own person, and from that point of view
it takes the positive rule of behaviour. This distinguishes
this expression from those other apparently parallel maxims
in the Apocrypha (Tob. iv. 16), in the Eabbis, and in Greco-
Ptoman writers, which all issue in the negative thought: what
1 Against Ritschl, Altkath. Kirche, 36 ff. Cf. Hofmann, Schriftb. i. 598 f.
you do not wish to be done to you, do not do to others. This
is an expression of selfishness, whereas the other is an expres
sion of love which loves a neighbour as oneself.
Jesus teaches His disciples to actualize the relationship to
God above all in prayer as that inward intercourse with God,
which has only God and not men in view, and to which the
subject itself is of chief importance, and not the using of many
words (Matt. vi. 5 fF.). Moreover, prayer has to subserve the
activity called forth for the kingdom of God (John xiv. 13 f.,
XV. 1 6 ); it has to be made auxiliary to one’s own inner life
(Luke xi. 5—13), and self-preservation in dangers bearing on
the state of one’s salvation (Matt. vi. 41). He further teaches
that this relationship is to be actively carried out in firm trust
in God (Matt. vi. 25 if., x. 29 f.) and in undaunted confession
(Matt. x. 32 f.), as well as in the denial for God’s sake of all
that is earthly, even of what is dearest, such as father and
mother, if it must so be (Matt. x. 34 if.); and not less is it
likewise to be carried out in active labour in the service of the
kingdom of God (Luke v. 10 ; John xv. 16).
Jesus teaches His disciples to actualize the relationship to
others in reconcilableness (Matt. v. 23 ff.; Luke xii. 58 ; Matt,
xviii. 21 ff.; Luke xvii. 3), in the patience which beareth and
does not seek to get its rights,— for so are the much misinter
preted words in Matt. v. 38 if. to be understood. It is also
to be actualized in the active manifestation of love towards
the poor and needy (Matt. xxv. 34 ff.), as also towards the
stranger (Luke x. 30 ff), and even towards enemies (Matt. v.
34 ff.); in humility, in mutual subordination (Matt, xviii.
1 ff), in consideration for the weak (Matt, xviii. 6 ff), in
keeping marriage sacred (Matt. xix. 3 ff.); and in recognition
of human order (Matt. xxii. 17 ff). When Jesus demands
under certain circumstances, renunciation of earthly possession
(Matt. xix. 16 ff), or declares riches to be an obstacle to the
kingdom of heaven (Matt. xix. 24), it is not the possession of
riches as such and in themselves which He means, but it is the
hanging of the heart upon them to which He points. Likewise
in the case of the rich man (Luke xvi. 19—31), it is not the riches
themselves but the non-application of them to relieving want
and filling up extreme differences of condition for which He
announces condemnation in the other world. It is therefore
always the disposition that is dealt with, corresponding to the
whole character of the moral doctrine of Jesus. In like
manner the words in Luke xi. 4 1 : “ Howbeit, give for alms
those things which ye ca n ; and behold all things are clean
unto you,” are not meant to convey the meaning that posses
sion in itself would be unclean, but Jesus means the selfish
ness that clings to possession. Giving alms is a manifestation
of freedom from earthly possession as well as a way to become
inwardly free therefrom; and hence the Lord praises mercy
not merely in words, but also was an example of it and a
guide to it. Again, that Jesus, according to Luke’s account
of the Sermon on the Mount, in calling the poor, the hungry,
and the mourners blessed, did not mean those who are exter
nally so as such, and that He did not speak thus in the
common Ebionitic sense, follows at once from the fact that
the words were primarily addressed to His disciples who
never lacked anything (Luke xxii. 35). Hence, in like
manner, the woe pronounced over the rich (Luke vL 24) is
not to be understood of the rich in the sense of external pos
session as such, as if riches in themselves were damnable.1
Jesus is speaking of what His disciples have to expect on
account of Him in the present time, but this suffering will be
converted in the future into jo y ; whereas the men of the
world have now already all they desire, so that the time of
the revelation of the kingdom of God has for them no further
consolation, but then the hungering and thirsting, etc., will in
their case begin. It is far from being the case, then, that in
such utterances of Jesus, or at least in these accounts of them,
expression was given to the ideal of perfection, which is
characteristic of “ the ascetic view of the world.” 2
3. The position o f Jesus towards the law is expounded in
the Sermon on the Mount. It is not merely the extension of
1 Cf. Hofmann, Die h. Schrift N . T. viii., 1 Ev. Luk. 1878, p. 159 if.
2 So Keim, Gesch. Jesu, ii. 232 : “ The coarse, naked Ebionitism with the
war-cry of outward poverty in contrast to riches.” Holtzmann, Neutest. Einl.
(1 Aufl.) 380, refers to “ the ascetic view of the world to which the want of posses
sion appears as perfection.” Even B. Weiss in his Leben Jesu, ii. 61 (cf. i. 83, and
his Com. on Matt. 1876, p. 135, and Bib. Theol. des Ν'. T. 4 Aufl. 1884, § 1375),
speaks of “ the ascetic view (of the Gospel of Luke), which sees in riches in se
something sinful, and therefore holds the giving them up and distributing them
as alms to be the only way of purifying oneself from them,” although he adds
that Jesus Himself was far from holding this view.
the law to the disposition, so that the ceremonial law (cultus,
Sabbath, sacrifices, etc.) was conceived by Him as continuing
to exist till His return, and explained as relative only in con
trast to the commandment of lo v e ; but He wishes to bring
the Old Testament law and the whole law to actualization.
This He does by showing forth the proper will of God, and
how it lies at the basis of all that is individual in the law and
will be fulfilled in all. Hence the fulfilment of the law is
in the disposition corresponding to it, and the power of this
fulfilment is constituted by faith in Him.
4. In this separation of the moral from all that is ritual and
legal lies the independence o f the moral from all that is positive,
and the possibility of practising the moral in the most varied
forms and orders of the external life. This, again, at the
same time involves the recognition of these external orders of
life, i.e. of the earthly calling, and of its being equally fitted
in all its variety of forms for the practising of that moral ful
filment of the essential will of God.— For, this world of the
disposition belongs to the inviardness o f the personal life in its
relationship to G od; and thereby morality is separated not
merely from the external phenomenon which comes into view
(cf. Matt. vi. 1 if.) as a process between the soul and God,
but it is also separated from the spheres of customary obser
vance and legal right. It is separated from the former, as, for
instance, when it is said in Matt. xv. 1 1 : “ Hot that which
entereth into the mouth defileth a man, but that which pro
ceeded out of the mouth; ” and from the latter, as in His
refusing to decide the dispute about inheritance (Luke xii. 14).
This separation of these spheres is in opposition to all the
Jewish as well as heathen morality prior to Christianity which
was characterized by the confounding and mixing up of these
different spheres. In other words, Christianity has discovered
the world of personality in its independence of all external law
and all that is positive and natural; and in this reference of
personality to God it has established the absoluteness, unity,
inwardness, and universality of the moral in distinction from
the ancient world. The philosophy of the Stoics and the
Cynics had a presentiment of this and sought after it, but
could not attain it.
§ 23. The new order o f things in the Kingdom o f God}
Jesus, attaching His teaching to the Old Testament, pro

claimed the Kingdom of God as the new order of things; and
He represented this order as having to realize itself through
God's revelation of grace and men’s faith as a divine fellow
ship of forgiveness through grace, and as a human fellowship
in the disposition of love. This order is further represented
as already belonging in its inner subsistence to the present,
as destined for all peoples, and as tending to a historical com
pletion and to a corresponding external embodiment in the
future aeon.
1. The Kingdom of God, according to the Synoptic accounts,

formed the chief theme of the preaching of Jesus (Matt. iv.
17, x. 7, and frequently). His proclamation was attached
to the Davidic Solomonic prototype presented in the Old
Testament (cf. the Psalms, especially ii., xlv., lxxii., cx.), and
to the prophetic annunciation of the Messianic kingdom (e.g.
Micah iv. 1—4 ; Isa. xlv. 2 9 ; and particularly Dan. ii. 44,
vii. 14 ff.). This Kingdom is called βασιλεία του Θεού (Luke),
because a government of G o d ; β. των ουρανών (Matt),
because it is realized from heaven upon earth; and to this
it bears in itself a corresponding characteristic. It is
designated, partly as present (fryyucev), Matt. iv. 7, x. 7 ;
βιάζεται, xi. 12, and elsewhere; eVro? υμών Ιστίν (Luke
xvii. 2 1 ); and partly as a future kingdom (Matt. vii. 21,
viii. 11, xiii. 43, and frequently). According to the parables
in Matt, xiii., it is founded by God’s w ord; it is a secret
power and of infinite value, but it has a mixed existence on
earth, and thus a process of sifting is before it.
2. The essence o f the Kingdom o f God is primarily the good
1H ess, Vom Reiche Gottes, 11 Aufl., Zurich 1781. Kern der L. vom Reiche
Gottes, 1819. Keil , Historia dogmatis de regno Messiae Christi et app. aetate,
1781 (Opuscula acad. ed. Goldhom 1821, p. 22 sqq.). Flatt, De notione vocis
/W . <r. ohf. 1794, 4. T heremin, Die Lehre von gottlichen Reiche, 1823. F leck,
De regno divino, Lips. 1829. See also the Theologies of the N . T. ; Ritschl’s
Rechtf. u. Vers. iii. 13 if., and his Unterricht, etc. § 56 ; and H erm. Schmidt,
Die Kirche, etc., Lpz. 1884, p. 12 ff.
which consists of fellowship in the grace and life of G od ; for
it comes with the tidings of the forgiveness of sins (cf. the
baptism of John) and with regeneration (John iii. 3 ff.); and
it is (in the Gospel of John) identical with the fellowship of
the divine life in Christ (John iii. 15, and frequently). On
the ground of this, it is further the task and fellowship of the
corresponding disposition of love (Matt. v. ff.; Luke vi. 20 ff.,
etc.; John xiii. 34 f., etc.) in the community o f the believers
(έκκΧησία), which accordingly is the earthly place of the
Kingdom of Heaven (cf. Matt. xvi. 18, 19 : the keys of the
Kingdom of Heaven). That is to say, it is the fellowship of
the forgiving grace of God and of the disposition of love.
3. The Universalism of its destination is grounded in this
divineness of its origin and the inwardness of its essence.*
For, everything is delivered to Christ by the Father (Matt. xi.
2 7 ); and all nations are to be gathered into His community,
and thereby to share in His kingdom (Matt, xxviii. 18, 19).
Its field is the world (Matt. xiii. 38). This universalism of
the proclamation of Jesus is opposed in principle both to the
particularism of the nomistic Pharisaism and to the cosmical
universalism of the Hellenistic Alexandrian Judaism, as well
as to the unbroken ancient national particularism and to the
pantheistic cosmopolitanism of the expiring ancient world.
Thus does Christianity show itself as a specifically new
principle.
4. The objections to the moral doctrine of Jesus have been
summarized in recent times with the greatest acuteness by
D. F. Strauss. In the concluding remarks of his later popular
L ife o f Jesus (1864), he finds essential lacunae in the sketch
of Jesus: " The life of man in the family retreats into the
background with this teacher, who Himself was without a
family. His relationship towards the State appears a purely
passive one. He is averse to acquisition of property, not
merely for Himself because of His calling, but He is also
visibly disinclined to it; and all that concerns art and the
beautiful enjoyment of life remains completely outside of His
circle of vision.” “ These lacunae are not of such a kind
that they only lack completeness in detail while the regulating
principle was given; but there is lacking from the outset the
right conceptions with reference to the state in particular, and
to acquisition and art.” Again in his last book on the Old
Faith and the New (2nd ed. 1872), Strauss speaks still more
sharply. He compares Christianity with Buddhism, and says:
“ Sakiamuni was a nihilist; Jesus, a dualist.” “ In fact, the
Christian dualism has essentially the same consequences as
the Buddhistic nihilism as regards the contemplation and
guidance of human life and its relationships. Nothing that
may here present itself as aim and object to human activity
has a real value; all striving .and aspiring after such is not
vain merely, but even hinders man from attaining his true
destination, whether this is called ‘ nothing * or ‘ Kingdom of
Heaven/ The utmost possible passivity of attitude, with the
exception of that activity which is requisite for the relieving
of the suffering of others, or for the glorification of the redeem
ing insight (whether it be the doctrine of Buddha or of Christ),
leads most surely to the goal. Accordingly the striving after
earthly goods, and even the possession of such in so far as one
does not voluntarily divest himself of them, is pre-eminently
of evil,” etc.1 These views have been appropriated and
repeated, particularly by Ziegler in his History of Christian
Ethics.123
* But all this rests upon a complete misunderstanding
of the work and significance of Jesus. He had not to set
forth a programme for the fulfilment of the tasks of culture
on their various sides, but He came to redeem from sin and
its guilt, and in the faith of this salvation to waken love to
God and to our neighbours. This love is the soul of all
activity, not merely of the so-called negative virtues, but also
of all possible fulfilment of duty, so that it was enough to
prepare for it a place on earth, in order thereby to put the
right soul also into the fulfilment of the tasks of culture.8
Strauss and Ziegler likewise speak of the dualism of Jesus,
as distinguished from the Buddhistic nihilism. Now Jesus
undoubtedly recognises transcendent motives as well as a
1 See further what he says (p. 65) on the want of the domestic and family life ;
and (p. SO) that Jesus must become more alien to mankind as a religious teacher
from day to day.
2 Against Ziegler, see my review of his book in the Theol. Lit. Bl. 1886,
Nr. 37.
3 See also as against Strauss: Pezold, Theol. Stud, aus Wurttemberg, 1881,
pp. 227-250, 314-338 ; and J. Kostlin, Ueber die Weltfliichtigkeit d. Christenth.,
Deutsch-evang. Blatter, 1877, p. 641 ff.
transcendent goal, just because He knows a transcendent God;
but every theistic mode of thinking is dualistic, and every
system of ethics is likewise such as long as it is religious.
But this is quite a different kind of dualism from that which
afterwards lay at the basis of the ethics of the Boman Church,
which represented the heavenly life and the natural life in
this world as two opposites that excluded each other. When
the advocates of these views (and Ziegler in part agrees with
them) find asceticism in Jesus, the one passage referring to
Him as “ a gluttonous man and a wine-bibber,” which was
certainly not invented, is sufficient to overthrow completely
all representations regarding the ascetic impression which Jesus
is said to have made. W e may add that His first miracle—
at least according to the Gospel of John— was the miracle of
making wine at Cana; that He accepted invitations even to
the houses of opponents in genteel surroundings; that a
banquet was given in honour of Him at Bethany before His
death ; that He was not displeased at the “ waste ” of the
precious spikenard, etc.; and in view of these facts there
remains nothing of the ascetic and monastic exemplar to found
upon. The same holds true with regard to the alleged con
tempt of nature and hostility to nature, attributed to Jesus and
the primitive Christianity. The well-known words of Jesus
about the lilies of the field, and the birds of the air, and the
sparrows on the roofs of the houses, not one of which perishes
without God’s will, show such a pure joy in Nature and her
life that one cannot truly speak here of hostility to nature.
“ To Christianity,” says Ziegler (p. 419), “ man as natural is
at the same time the sinful man, and hence— let the expression
be taken in my regard as gently as you can— it is hostile to
man and hostile to nature. It is only when man is regarded
as the object and receptacle of grace that he becomes worthy
and interesting; and— as the Middle Ages carried out this
line of thought— he is worthless and of no account without
the Church, which introduces and mediates this process of
grace.” But against this whole train of thoughts Jesus, the
friend of children,— to pass over all else,— enters His protest.
The objection rests upon a fundamental misunderstanding.
Undoubtedly in the view of Jesus too, and not merely in that
o f Paul, the natural man is the sinful man; but man is not
such by creation, but as a fallen being. Yet even as fallen
he is “ interesting ” to God. Does not God make His sun to
rise on the evil and the good, and send His rain on the just
and the unjust ?
With very special emphasis it has also been alleged by the
advocates of these views, that Jesus could not have attributed
any value to labour which takes care for the morrow; and
accordingly that no words of His are found which recommend
labour. Hence it is said further by Ziegler (p. 200), that
“ the more Christian monasticism is not the monasticism of
the West, which is laborious, which cultivates the ground,
which tends the sick, copies codices, and teaches children;
but the contemplative and idle monasticism in the monasteries
of the East, which shuns the world.” But it may be asked if
Paul, who said, whoever will not work, let him also not eat,
could have actually sketched such a different view as funda
mentally that of his Master ? Or, again, it may be asked, is
such a view compatible with the other passage, that he who
provides not for his household is worse than a heathen ? But
it is conceivable that Paul had occasion to call to mind the
duty of labour; for he wrote to Greeks, among whom the
appreciation of labour and the taking pleasure in it were very
deficient, as is well known. The position, however, was quite
otherwise in Israel, where even every Babbi must have learned
a trade. To have exhorted men there to the duty of labour
would have been strange, because it wus entirely superfluous.
The appreciation of labour which the Greco-Boman world owes
to Christianity, springs in fact from Judaism. Jesus assumes
it to be self-evident that men labour and have to labour. The
householder in the parable (Matt. xx. 1 ff.) goes out in the
morning to hire labourers for his vineyard; and the labourers
who stand idle in the market wait for work, and at evening
they receive their hire. The Lord expresses as a self-evident
principle the proposition that the labourer is worthy of his
hire (Matt. x. 10 ; Luke x. 7 ) ; and the fact that this expres
sion is repeated in 1 Tim. v. 18, and even appears as a
proverb, shows that this principle was regarded as unquestion
able even in the Christian circles of the earliest time. And
the justification and duty of labour were evidently combined
with the reminiscences of the Lord, as is manifest from the
way in which He is remembered when it is stated that the
Nazarenes designated Him not only as the “ carpenter’s son ”
(Matt, xiii. 35), but as the “ carpenter” (Mark vi. 3 ); and
they therefore knew Him from His work in this calling until
the higher calling of His life took its place. Besides, there
is also a non-canonical passage which is preserved in the
interesting manuscript D at Luke vi. 4, and which by its
paradoxical form as well as by the freedom of its attitude
towards the law seems to preserve a genuine expression of
Jesus. According to this passage, when Jesus saw a man
working on the Sabbath, He said to h im : “ 0 man, if thou
knowest what thou doest, thou art blessed ; but if thou dost
not know it, thou art cursed, and a transgressor of the law,”—
an expression which indeed refers primarily to the right
attitude towards the Sabbath commandment, but which also
includes as a presupposition the right and duty of labour.
Hence there is no reason for holding that Jesus did not
appreciate labour.
Undoubtedly Jesus “ has attributed no worth to the acqui
sition o f riches.” 1 It was not a part of His office to recom
mend this, nor did He need to recommend it ; for men are
wont, and certainly the Jews of that time were wont, to be
careful about acquiring riches without any recommendation.
But this practice has in itself no moral worth. The calling
of Jesus was not to attend to the instructing of men with
reference to values in political economy, but to what was of
moral value. It needs no demonstration to show that moral
dangers lie in riches. That Jesus regarded poverty as likewise
not without danger, is shown by His warnings against anxious
care as to what we shall eat, what we shall drink, and where
withal we shall be clothed. For these are usually the cares
of the poor, and not of the rich. Riches were not in His
view an absolute hindrance to the kingdom of heaven, but
he warns His hearers against the folly of πλεονεξία. For He
reminds them in Luke xii. 15 that it is not greatness of
possession that helps one to continue in life. This is the
meaning of the parable of the man who believed that by the
rich* product of his land he had richly secured his life for a
long time. But riches bring the loss of eternal life when
1 Ziegler, p. 66.
the soul of a man so hangs upon them that he neglects to
strive after what is essentially good because of them. This,
however, is an estimate of earthly goods which has always been
fully justified, even where the life of labour is carried to the
highest.
It likewise rests upon a misunderstanding when it is further
maintained that Jesus saw in marriage and the family gene
rally a “ fetter ” and impediment in the way of participating
in the kingdom of heaven, and that He therefore gave a higher
place to the unmarried state.1 Undoubtedly Jesus speaks of
those who had “ made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of
heaven’s sake,” i.e. had got rid of sexual desire. But it also
holds good of the married that they must be able to make this
renunciation. Jesus Himself belonged exclusively to His
redemptive calling. He had not to give the example of the
father of a household; He was the householder (οΙκοΒεσ-
πότης) in the circle of His disciples; and thus He also
demanded from those who entered into the fellowship of His
calling that they must be able to resolve to abandon house
and home, etc., for the sake of this calling. He has, however,
expressly referred to marriage itself as founded and ordered
by God (Matt. xix. 4 ) ; and thus He has fully recognised it
and morally appreciated it. Moreover, He was also “ subject
to His parents ” till His calling claimed Him entirely. Tor
the sake of this calling He undoubtedly knew neither father
nor mother, nor brother and sister. Yet He did not depart
from life without caring for His mother even on the cross;
and He thus assigned the duty of a son to His favourite
disciple, the fulfilment of which He therefore undoubtedly
regarded as compatible with his calling as a disciple.
Further, Ziegler thinks that Jesus showed “ a certain
indifference towards political life .” He deduces this from the
well-known words: “ Give unto Caesar the things that are
Caesar’s, and unto God the things that are God’s.” How,
undoubtedly Jesus did “ renounce all earthly Messiahship,” but
this He did just on account of His true Messiahship. A Bar-
cochba might put himself into the service of the “ national
hope; ” but such a one just showed himself thereby to be a
false messiah. The “ national hopes ” were living enough in
1 Ziegler, p. 66.
Israel without this, and were taking a questionable form. A
true Messiah had to turn away the thoughts of men from these
hopes, and to direct them upon the one thing needful, but not
to be a sort of political demagogue. This celebrated passage,
with its separation of the two spheres, has been lauded by
Guizot among others as the fundamental expression of the
new Christian political order. It thus undoubtedly involves
a political principle of the richest and most fruitful nature;
and all the political wisdom of antiquity did not attain to its
“ political ” wisdom. Nor is it easy to see how the words
used regarding the temple tax (Matt. xvii. 27) display an
almost “ anxious passivity.” They are rather words bearing
on the care of the soul, and addressed to those who cannot
understand the higher liberty of Jesus and of His followers.
The consideration in question is a command of love which
contains the kernel of the moral doctrine of Jesus. As Jesus
not merely taught this doctrine, but practised it and made it
active in the world, He thereby made a power of life active
which manifested itself as an efficient impelling principle on all
sides of real life, including the life of civilisation and culture.I.
II. T h e A p o s t o l ic a l P k o c l a m a t io n .
§ 24. The Jzwish-Christian Proclamation}
The Jewish-Christian proclamation, as specially represented

by James, brings into prominence that side of Christian
morality according to which it is the higher fulfilment of the
Old Testament law.
1. The common evangelical basis presented in the Gospels

of all the Apostolical proclamation of morality, consists in
the knowledge that the presupposition of all Christian
morality is the new relationship between God and man as it
is established in Christ, and as it becomes a reality also for
the individual through faith. Thereby it is lifted far above
all mere moralism, which aims at working out the relation
ship" by one’s own conduct, even upon that stage which
1 C. F. Schmid, Neutest. Theol. p. 387 if. W old. Schmidt, Der Lehrgehalt
des Jak.-Briefs, Lpz. 186 9 ; and the other N . T. Theologies.
accentuates the agreement and harmony of the Old Testament
and the New.
2. The Jtwish-Christian proclamation, which forms the first
stage of the apostolical proclamation, naturally makes promi
nent the agreement of the New Testament with the Old
Testament, and it thus designates Christian morality as the
higher fulfilment of the Old Testament law.— The Epistle of
James represents this stage. Of a predominantly practical
and moral character, it accentuates the moral activity in
which faith has to exhibit itself, and therefore puts the
Christian life under the point of view of the L aw : not of a
natural law, hut of the Old Testament moral Law (ii. 10),
which is at the same time the New Testament Law, just
because it is the holy will of God. But this law is not an
external ordinance, but νόμος ελευθερίας (ii. 12), and therefore
also νόμος τέλειος (i. 25). The presupposition of its fulfil
ment, however, by which it is a law of liberty, is the new
birth out of the seed of the (New Testament) word of truth
(i. 18). Through this real principle of morality the Christian
life, as well as the moral doctrine here presented, is raised
above all moralism. For all conduct rests upon the new
(objective) principle of the divine πνεύμα (iv. 5), and the
(subjective) principle of faith. For although James knows
a “ dead,” “ id le ” (apyrf, ii. 20) faith which exists only in
words (ii. 14, 18), yet the true faith is perfected (ετελειωθη)
in works, to which it is co-operative (συνηρηει, ii. 22). A c
cordingly, all fulfilment of the Law (δικαιοσύνη) is grounded
through the new creative activity of the word of God and
the inward reception of it in faith. But this is the new
principle of the Christian morality. "James turns this prin
ciple against the temptations and dangers which the external
position of his readers brought with it (i. 2—ii. 13, indicating
the difficulties arising from the limited form of the Christian
community and from the striving after human favour). He
also turns it against the vices of the old Jewish nature which
were carried over into the Jewish-Christian circles. Thus
there was found, first, in the sphere of the spiritual life a
one-sided doctrinalism which was proud of the prerogative of
better knowledge, but which denied the moral power of faith
(ii. 14 iff.), combined with positiveness and the other evils
which followed from that obscuration of knowledge (iii. 1 ff.);
secondly, in the sphere of the worldly life there was the false
desire of acquisition and hardheartedness springing from the
lust of having (iv. 13 ff.). In contrast to all this, James sets
forth (v. 7 ff.) the right attitude and conduct, namely, patient
waiting for the future coming of the Lord which does not
allow itself to be dispirited through suffering, the reliance of
prayer, and mutual correction.
§ 25. The Gentile-Christian 'proclamation}
The Gentile-Christian proclamation is primarily represented

by Paul. In its exposition of the Christian life it especially
accentuates the element of freedom or liberty, posited with
the new relation of Sonship to God, and given in the spirit of
Jesus Christ as the principle of the new life of the Christian,
in opposition both to the slavery of sin and to the limitedness
of the law. And, on the other hand, this liberty is exhibited
in contrast to the world of creation, and in the service of
love, in free subordination under the orders of the natural
and Christian life of communion and fellowship, as well as
in the observance of the common Christian practice of
morality.
1. Paul's calling was pre - eminently the proclamation of

the Gospel in the Gentile world. The character of his
preaching was thereby more exactly determined. On the
one side, it had to put itself into relation to previous heathen
history; and, on the other side, as it came from Israel and
raised itself from the Israelite limitation to the wide plane of
the world of nations, it had also to exhibit its relation to the
previous history of Israel. In relation to both it had to
accentuate the specifically new element of the Gospel. From
this there necessarily resulted the contrast of the past and
the present, the then and the now (ποτέ— νυν), as the deter
mining point of view. This was also the result of the special
development of the life of the Apostle.
1Ernest, Die Ethik des Ap. Paulus, in ihren Grundziigen dargest., 3 Aufl.
Gott. 1880. Cf. the Theologies of the N. T.
2. The slavery o f the heathen world under sin. — The
Adamitic humanity is the world of sin and of death (Eom.
v. 12 if.), so that the natural φρονείv cannot be otherwise
than determined by sin, and therefore ruled and bound by it
(Rom. vii. 7 ff., 14, ττεττραμενος υττο την αμαρτίαν), and thus
it issues in death (Rom. viii. 6, το φρόνημα τής σαρκος
θάνατος). This whole state of things stands in antagonism
to God (Rom. viii. 7, εχθρα εις Θεόν), and therefore under
the wrath of God (Eph. ii. 3, τέκνα φύσει όρ^ής). For
although moral consciousness and moral impulses were not
wanting (Rom. ii. 14), yet they did not change the universal
state nor overcome the dominating hostility to God of the
power of sin (cf. Rom. i. 18 if., iii. 19).
3. The slavery o f Israel under the law. — Israel shared
with the heathen world the condition of being morally hostile
to God (Rom. iii. 1 ff.; Eph. ii. 3). For although Israel had
the revealed Law as a divine prerogative (Rom. iii. 1 f.,
ix. 1 if.), yet the Law, notwithstanding its holiness (Rom.
vii. 12), did not serve to overcome sin on account of the
sinful condition of human nature even in Israel, but only
served to give occasion and intensification to sin (Rom.
vii. 9 ff.). For even such external fulfilment as it brings
about by its commands and threatening in the Ιργα του
νόμου, is not real, because it is not free fulfilment of the
essential will of G od; it therefore does not take away the
dominion of sin, and therefore makes no distinction between
the Jews and the heathen (Rom. iii. 9, ττροεχόμεθα; are we
better than they ?), but only contributes to the knowledge of
sin (Rom. iii. 20, vii. 7), and thereby to the preparation for
the new time of the sonship of God and its liberty (Gal.
iii. 24, iv. 1 ff.). For although the law formed an opposition
to sin and to its dominion, yet on its side it imposed certain
external ordinances on the sensible life which were therefore
of a positive kind (δικαιώματα σαρκός, Heb. ix. 10), and
which therefore belonged likewise to the Gentile morality
and religion, and to the world of material elements (στοιχεία
τού κόσμου, Gal iv. 3, 9 ; CoL ii. 8, 20). Accordingly, it
was not the revelation of the essential will of G od; and hence
it was not an immediate, but a mediated revelation (Gal.
iii. 19, hi αγγέλων, εν χειρϊ μεσίτου) ; and it had come in
VOL. I. G
between (Eom. v. 20, παρεισήλθεν). And although it in
cluded the moral will of God in itself (Eom. vii. 12, ή εντολή
ay ία teal δίκαια teal ayaOrj), as it is summarized in the com
mandment of love (Eom. xiii. 9, 10), yet it had no power of
putting it into practice because it only came to man as a
demand or claim, and therefore externally (γράμμα, Eom.
ii. 29, vii. 6 ; 2 Cor. iii. 6).
4. The new relationship o f liberty in Christ. — In Christ,
the Son of God in the flesh, the end of the law has come,
because the adoption of men as sons of God has become real
as a fa ct; and this has thereby also become possible for all
(Gal. iv. 4). Again the end of the law has come, since it is
the end of subjection (υπόδικον είναι) under the wrath of God
through sin and its guilt (Eom. iii. 21 ff. and often); con
sequently there is a new relationship to God, namely, the
relationship of adoption as sons of God (υιοθεσία, Gal. iii. 26,
iv. 5). A ll that is needed is only to belong to Christ in
faith (εν Χ ριστώ ), in order that the new relationship to God,
realized in Christ, may be a reality for the believer. This
new relationship, however, has its inner reality and witness
in the Spirit of God (Gal. iv. 6, εξαπεστειλεν 6 Θεός το
πνεύμα του υιού αυτού εις τάς καρδίας υμών, κραζον Ά β β ά 6
πατήρ). Now this spirit is the power of the new life (Eom.
viii. 4 ff.), which is released both from its boundness by sin
(Eom. viii. 2, 12), as well as from the slavery of the law
(Gal. iv. 31, v. 1, 13, etc.). The new relationship to God
in faith is for the Christian the law of his life which binds
him, and thereby he is freed from all other bondage (1 Tirnl
i. 9, δικαίφ νόμος ου κεΐται). On this account, again, he is
also free in relation to the whole world of the creation; for
nothing binds him whose relationship to God is personal and
not qualified by things. Accordingly, he does not need to
make a matter of conscience of anything (e.g. Col. ii. 16 f.),
but can make free use of everything; for παν κτίσμα Θεού
καλόν (L Tim. iv. 4). With this all false asceticism and
negation of nature, as well as all naturalizing of Christian
morality in general, is averted: πάντα εξεστιν (1 Cor. vi. 12,
x. 23).
5. Sanctification.— But this involves the inward boundness
to the inner law of the spirit which is the principle of a new
life (Gal. v. 25). Tor liberty is not a licence for the old
sinful nature (Gal. v. 13, μη την iXeuOepiav e£? αφορμήν rfj
σαρκι); for, the new state in Christ and the old state of the
flesh are not compatible with each other (Kom. vi.). But.
the new principle of life of the spirit is the inner law of the
corresponding mode of conduct. To the so-called dogmatic
part of his Epistles, the apostle, as a rule, attaches an ethical
or practical part, the doctrine of faith being thus followed
by exhortations to the corresponding life. Not as if these
exhortations or requirements of the moral life which Paul
sets forth were meant to go along with faith as another
special principle (thus giving faith and love), but they are
included in faith. Faith is the active principle which works
through love (Gal. v. 6). For if we are united to Christ
through faith, and if Christ is He who died and rose again,
our relationship to Christ is also a fellowship of His death
and of His new life ; so that both of these have made them
selves efficient in us in corresponding conduct, as a becoming
dead to the old nature of the flesh, and as a walking in the
new life of the Spirit, i.e. in sanctification, in opposition to
the former heathen nature as this is specially exhibited in
the sins of impurity and in the dominion of selfishness. The
Apostle very frequently speaks of these sins, for in the degree
in which they are the characteristic manifestations of the
heathen nature (Bom. i.), it is also pre-eminently character
istic of the Christians to keep themselves far from them.
The greater the temptation there was to this in the heathen
surroundings, and the laxer the judgment about them, so
much the more frequent and emphatic are the reminders of
the Apostle, not only against the heathen vices in general,
but specially against this sin (1 Thess. iv. 3 ff.; Gal. v. 1 9 ;
Col. iii. 5 ; 1 Cor. vi. 13 ff.; 2 Cor. xii. 21, etc.). In opposi
tion to the heathen selfishness, he sets forth the command
ment of love as the active exercise of Christian liberty.
6. The service of love.— For, as the spirit of Jesus Christ is
a spirit of liberty in contrast to the world, so it is a spirit
that binds inwardly to a corresponding activity, and specially
towards God in Christ, as well as towards our neighbours in
the various relationships of the earthly life. As the essential
will of God has realized itself in Christ, the life of. >the
Christian is also the active carrying out of this essential will
of God. This, however, is the will of love. The life of the
Christian is thus a life of love towards God (2 Thess. iii. 5,
αγάπτj του Θεόν, Genet, obj.) in Christ (Eph. vi. 24, αηατταν
τον κυρών ημών Ί . Χρ.; 1 Cor. xvi. 22, φίΧβΐν τον κυρών),
and in the manifold manifestations of this lo v e : as living to
God in Christ (Rom. vi. 11), in humble and thankful recog
nition of the salvation in Christ (1 Cor. xv. 1 0 ; 2 Cor.
iii. 5), and of all graces and gifts (Eph. v. 2 0 ; CoL ii. 6 f.;
iii. 15, 17, etc.), in joyful and patient trust (Rom. viii. 25,
28, 31 if., etc.), as well as in a comforted confession to God
(Rom. x. 10, x v i 27, etc.). As in such love our whole life
becomes a service of God (Rom. vi. 16, 21, xii. 1), so it also
becomes a service of our neighbour in love, as all others are
also included and willed in the love of God in Christ; for
Christ died for all (Rom. xiv. 15 ; 1 Cor. viii. 11). This
love shows itself above all in active communicativeness; and
the apostle frequently exhorts to beneficence, and praises
certain for it (2 Cor. viii. and ix .); but mercy is to be
exercised in liberty and willingness (2 Cor. ix. 7), and
with pleasure (Rom. xii. 8). This serving love ought also to
manifest itself in the “ love-feast ” (1 Cor. xi.), in hospitality
(Rom. xii. 1 3 ; 1 Pet. iv. 9), which is specially required of
the bishop (1 Tim. iii. 2), etc. In all this, however, it is
Christ Himself (Col. iii. 11) who is properly the object of our
love, or in whom our not loving is atoned for (1 Cor. viii. 12).
It carries itself actively out in the fellowship of the Christian
life as brotherly love (Rom. xii. 10), and in the fellowship of
the natural life as neighbourly love (Rom. xiii. 7, 10), and
thus it unfolds itself into a multiplicity of virtues, and
exhibits itself in the natural circles of life in which the
Christian moves. Especially in the later anti-Gnostic
Epistles, Paul emphasizes the connection of the Christian’s
life with the natural life, and consequently of faith with the
common virtues under the universal point of view of βύσίβεια
(1 Tim. ii. 2, iii. 16, iv. 7, 8, vi. 3, 5, 8, 1 1 ; 2 Tim. iii. 5 ;
Tit. i. 1). This Christian mode of conduct is specially
distinguished by having the double character of the heavenly
sense (consciousness) and earthly subordination.
7. The heavenly sense.— As the sense of the Christian in
faith is love to Christ who has been raised to the right hand
of God, the Christian knows that his home is above with
Christ. Our πόλίτβνμα, i.e. our proper political commonwealth
in which we have our right of home, is in heaven with
Christ (Phil. iii. 2 0 ); for from thence we also expect our
salvation in the Lord Jesus Christ, who is to bring our life to
its g oa l; for, the sense of the Christian in general is set on
things above, where his life is hid with Christ in God, and is,
consequently, certain to him in faith (Col. iii. 1—3). This
thought likewise receives special expression in 1 Peter, and
the mood of this Epistle is consequently that of the pilgrimage
on earth (1 Pet. ii. 11). Christians ought to regard them
selves as redeemed in Christ from this vanishing world to the
eternal world that passeth not away (1 Pet. iii. 4 ) ; and there
fore as called to holiness (i. 15, ii. 11 f.), and as the people
of God who have their conversation on earth (ii. 9, 10).
8. For this very reason, however, their life on earth is led
in the recognition of and in obedience to the earthly orders,
as God has ordained them for this earthly life. These orders
or institutions include the magisterial and political (Korn,
xiii. 1 if.; 1 Tim. ii. 2 ; 1 Pet. ii. 13 if.), and the conjugal
and domestic (Eph. v. 22 if., vi. 1 ff ; Col. iii. 18 i f ; 1 Pet.
iii. 1 ff.). The Apostle Paul in this sense explains and decides
the question of marriage (1 Cor. v ii.); he further recognises
property and acquisition (1 Cor. vi. 1 ff., vii. 29 ; cf. Acts v. 4),
and he only blames the Christians for disputing about these
before the heathen (1 Cor. vi. 1 ff.). He desiderates labour
with quietness to eat one’s own bread (1 Thess. iv. 1 1 ;
2 Thess. iii. 10, 12), and in order to be able to give to the
needy (Eph. iv. 28). He declares the enjoyment of the
earthly not to be wrong in itself (1 Cor. vii. 3 1 ); for every
creature of God is good, if it is only used with thankfulness
to God (1 Tim. iv. 4, 5 ) ; and he thus establishes the
liberty of enjoyment (1 Cor. viii. 4). He also affirms the
earthly calling (1 Cor. vii. 20, 2 4 ); and James likewise does
the same of trading (Jas. iv. 13). For as Christians are
free in God (1 Pet. ii. 16), they are able much more
readily to adapt themselves to the various subjections of the
political and social order, and even to the relationship of
slavery (Eph. vi. 5 f . ; Col. iii. 2 2 ; 1 Tim. vi. 1 f . ; Tit. ii. 9 ;
1 Pet. ii. 18 f . ) ; and they are able therein even to bear
experiences of injustice (1 Pet. ii. 18 ff.). In like manner
they will adapt themselves correspondingly to the necessary
orders of the life of the Christian community, whether in
supervision or subordination (1 Pet. v. 1 ff.). Paul refers
to such orders in his communities, and he maintains them.
9. Por, the Christian life of the community requires a
common moral practice. While the Jewish Christians found
their external order of life in the Old Testament law, it was
incumbent on those Jewish Christians who were superior in
moral feeling to the heathen, to be in this the instructors of
the Christians who were converts from heathenism. This is
the significance of the decisions of the so-called Apostolic
Council (Acts xv. 29). For these were not dogmatic or
religious propositions,1 but regulations for practice with a
view to the education of the moral feelin g;2 and Paul,
although he retained the Old Testament law as an observance
for his own person,8 yet he emphatically repudiated the
compulsoriness of the law for his Gentile Christians, but
held to the observance of those practical rules (irapahoaew,
1 Cor. xi. 2, vii. 1 7 ; Phil. iv. 8 ; cf. his polemic against
participation in idolatrous feasts, 1 Cor. x . ) ; and in general
he insisted on the observance of good Christian morals in his
communities (e.g. 1 Cor. x i.); yet so that he always still
maintained the principle of evangelical liberty.
§ 26. The Johannine Proclamation.4
In opposition to the Antinomianism of the libertines, the

Johannine proclamation gave expression at the close of the
Apostolic age to the commandment of the obligatoriness of
love as grounded in.the new fellowship with God.
1. Libertine Antinomianism was a reaction from a false

Judaistic legality by an abuse of the Pauline preaching of the
liberty of the Christian man, and it threatened to endanger
1 Against Baur, Overbeck, and others.

3 Cf. Lechler, Ap. u. Nachapost. Zeitalter, 3 Aufl..l885, pp. 164-191.
8 Acts xxi. 20 ff.; cf. Lechler, p. 189.
* Cf. the works on the Theology of the N . T. and on the Apostolic Age.
and devastate the moral state of the* communities towards the
close of the Apostolic Age. The principle of this Antinomi
anism was the abused τταντα εξεστιν, i.e. to the pneu
maticus. Paul had already fought against it (1 Cor. x .); but
.now this Antinomianism was threatening to lay waste the
whole Christian life of the community. It arose from a
false severance of the inner state of the spirit and the outer
life in the flesh; and it was the practical consequence of the
Christological error which separated in the person of Christ
between Jesus and Christ, and between the flesh of Jesus
and His higher pneumatic nature. * The latter heresy was
opposed by the Gospel of John, and the former by the First
Epistle of John. The Second Epistle was opposed to the
heretical teachers, and the Apocalyptic Epistles as well as
Second Peter and Jude were written in opposition to the
actual devastation thus caused (cf. 2 Pet.' i i.; Jude 4 f f.;
Eev. ii. 6, 14, 15, 20, iii. 4). While the legal mode of
thought against which Paul had to combat was of Jewish
origin, this antinomian tendency had mainly heathen roots.
In the former connection the question dealt with was the
relationship of man with G od; in the latter' it was his
relationship to the world. In the former case, the error lay
in supposing that the relationship to God can be restored by
our own conduct; in the latter, it lay in thinking that conduct
is not inwardly bound by the relationship to God in faith.
2. In opposition to this Antinomianism, Christianity there
fore appears here as εντολή. Hence the frequent use of this
word in the Johannine' writings, not only in the Christological
sense, but in reference to the law of Christ’s life,1 as consisting
in unity with the divine will as His will, and also in the
ethical sense for the Christian’s law. of life.1
23 .Now as God’s
will in Christ has revealed itself as love to men,8 so God’s
will in us, or His commandment, is also the will of love.
This is the new commandment for Christians (John xiii. 34 f.
and often); it is the determination of the subjective principle
of conduct posited through the new relationship to God in
1 John. x. 18, xii. 49, 50, xiv. 31, xv. 10.

2 John xiii. 34, xiv. 15, 21, xv. 10, 12 ; 1 Johnii. 3, 4, 7, 8, iii. 22-24, iv. 21,
v. 2, 3 ; 2 John iv. 5, 6 ; Rev. xii. 17, xiv. 12, xxii. 14.
3 E.g. John iii. 16 ; 1 John iii. 1, 16, ir. 8, 16, etc, . .
Christ. For although it is the old will of God, it has never
theless only found its truth now in Christ and in the
Christian ο Ιστιν αληθές ip αύτω καί ip νμΐν (1 John ii. 8).
The commandments of the Christian conduct of life do not
appear as imposed externally or as superadded to the Christian .
state, but as contained in the relationship to God Himself
(e.g. 1 John i. 6, ii. 6, and in other passages).
3. The contents or substance of this commandment refers
both to the relationship to the world and to the relationship
to the new community. In relation to the world the Chris
tian life is liberty from the world, and victory over the world,
not as something that has to be won by our labour, but as
given with Christ and the Christian state.1 This liberty from
the world has, however, to be preserved and not to be con
founded with that spurious liberty which is slavery of the
flesh, and which is preached by the false Antinomian gnosis of
the Nicolaitans, etc. (see the Epistles in the Apocalypse).
In this it authenticates itself as holy purity, for the Christian
is delivered from this world through the fellowship of God
which is in Christ, and is made to belong to the world of
God which has begun in Christ and is waiting for its full
revelation; and he makes this hope be subservient to the
power of sanctification (1 John iii. 2 f.), the denial of which
therefore involves the loss of that future (cf. the Epistles and
Eevelation). In relation to the new Christian community
this commandment is the active practice o f lave in the mani
foldness of its manifestations. It is also a life o f prayer in the
adoration of God and Christ,2 and in the service of the work
of Christ (John xiv. 13, xvi. 23 ; 1 John v. 14 f.) and of
the brethren (1 John v. 15 f . ) ; and fidelity in confessing
Jesus (John xv. 2 7 ; Eev. ii. 10).
Thus it is essentially the same content which is presented
on all the stages of the Hew Testament proclamation of truth.
The new moral life of the Christian is rooted in the new
relationship to God which is mediated in Christ, and through
that relationship the new mode of conduct is determined as
both free and bound.
1 John ii. 12 ff., i y w x a r t , w n trxctrt, etc.; v. 4, vixrrura; v. 18 ff., tvfiti,
itiwxtv, etc.
2 Cf. the heavenly liturgy in the Apocalypse.
THE ETHICS OF THE ANCIENT CHUECH.
W illiam Cave , Prim itive Christianity, 1672. T he first Part o f this
work treats o f the W orship of the ancient Church, and the second and
third Parts give a sketch of the moral condition of the primitive
Christianity (its hum ility, contempt o f the world, temperance, chastity,
fidelity to the faith, patience, justice, love and benevolence, unanim ity
and peaceableness, obedience to authority, penitence and discipline).
Undoubtedly prominence is given to the bright side. B arbeyrac ,
Le droit de la nature et de gens, traduit du Latin de M . Pufendorf par
B arb., Amsterd. 1712, 4to. The preface to this work criticizes the
Ethics of the Church Fathers.— In opposition to the last work, and with
superior knowledge of the relevant literature, the Fathers are vindicated
by the Benedictine C eillier in his Apologiede la morale desperes d el’dglise,
etc., 1718, 4to. Again Barbeyrac defended his views against Ceillier in
his Traits de la morale desperes de I’fylise, etc., Amsterd. 1728. B uddeus
in his Isagoge historico-theologica ad theologiam universam , etc., Lips. 1727,
p. 620 sqq., takes an intermediate position between them.— S taudlin ,
Gesch. der Sittenl. Jesu , 1 Bd., Gott. 1799, gives, p. 814 ff., the further
literature of the subject. Staudlin praises B altus , Jugement des ss.
ptressu r la morale de la philosophie payenne, Strassb. 1719. J. G. W alch ,
Biblioth. theol. t. ii. p. 1072, and B ibl. patrist. pp. 364 sqq., 504 sqq.
S chrockh, Kircliengesch. B d . 3, pp. 254, 417 ff., etc. [Ante-N icene
Christian Library. Translations o f the works of the Fathers of the
Christian Church prior to the Council o f Nicsea. E d. b y Drs. Koberts
and Donaldson. 24 vols. T . & T . Clark.]
§ 27. The blunted Paulinism o f the post-Apostolic Church.
I n the post-Apostolic Church not only did the vitality of

the new Christian spirit exhibit itself in verifying fact, but
the essential elements of the knowledge of the moral truth of
Christianity were maintained. But notwithstanding this, the
sharpness of the Pauline moral cognition became blunted in
the age immediately following the Apostles, and a new legalism
was thus prepared. The occasion for this was partly the
change in the opposition which had to be dealt with, as the
Pauline opposition to the Judaic nomism was succeeded by
the post-Pauline opposition to the gnostic antinomianism. It
was also occasioned in part by the historical influence of that
natural mode of thinking, both in its heathen and Jewish form,
which loves to think of the relation between God and man
according to the law of demand and performance, which is thus
founded -upon the conduct of man, and has its correspondence
in reward on the side of God.1
1. Moral reality and truth.— The Apologists, in dealing with

the heathen, appeal to the proof presented by the evidence
of the Spirit and its power,2 and they must have had a right
1R ietter, Die Moral der Christ. Schriftsteller der ersten zwei Jahrhh. Progr.
Regsbg. 1845. A . Ritschl, Die Entstehung dier altkath. Kirche, 2 Aufl. 1857.
"We izsacker, Die Anfange christlicher Sitte, Deutsche Jahrbb. 1876, 1.
M oritz v . E ngelhardt, Das Christenthum Justin’s d. Mart., Erlangen 1875.
K eim , Rom u. das Christenth. 1881. Lechler, Das apost. u. nachap. Zeitalter,
3 Aufl. 1885, pp. 568 if., 586 ff. Thomasius, Dogmengeschichte, 2 Aufl. i.
Erlangen 1886, p. 100 ff. Behm, Das christl. Gesetzthum der Apost. Vater.
Ztschr. fiir kirchl. Wissenschaft, 1886, pp. 295-309, 408-416, 453-465. ·
2 Cf. Justin, Apol. i. 14-17, 27-29 ; Ep. ad Diogn. 5. Tertullian, Apol. 44.
Origen c. Cels, in i. 26, 31, 46, 64, etc.
107
to adopt this line of argument. And this is proved by what
we know of the post-Apostolic Fathers (Ignatius and Polycarp),
as well as by the statements of those who succeeded them
(Justin and others), and their martyrdoms. Moreover, the
power of the new moral spirit is exhibited not only in the
form of enthusiasm, but also in the relationships of common
life. Pliny’s account to Trajan (Epp. x. 97) gives prominence
in his description of the Christians along with their worship
ping of Christ (carmen Christo quasi deo dicere secum invicem)
to the morality of the life led in that closed community: seque
Sacramento non in scelus aliquod obstringere, sed ne furta, ne
latrocinia, ne adulteria committerent. Among the virtues
appearing conspicuously, the chief were chastity and love in
their manifold exercise.1 And the conflicts about the ques
tion of a second repentance, notwithstanding all the errors
which took form in connection with them, show how earnest
was their attitude towards sin. If, nevertheless, divergence
and aberration from the loftiness and purity of the New
Testament both in life and knowledge, early showed itself, the
reason of this is to be found in an obscuration of the Pauline
view which had soon begun to appear.
2. The early obscuration o f the Pauline notion with aberration
towards moralism and nomism is a fact which lies patent before
us, and which at an early stage had made itself manifest in
various ways.12* The Tubingen school of Baur has sought to
explain this phenomenon as arising out of the struggle
between the Judaic and Gentile Christianity of the post-
Apostolic Church and its gradual adjustment. But this whole
construction of the earliest Church History breaks down on the
fact that the post-Apostolic Church was essentially a Gentile
Christian Church. Ritschl in his “ Origin of the ancient
Catholic Church ” derives this blunting of Paulinism, or this
“ new legalism,” from “ the incapacity of the heathen Gentiles to
master the right Old Testament presuppositions of the funda
mental ideas of the Apostle,” 8 in place of which heathen ideas,
and especially the heathen moral philosophy and its moralism,
1 Cf. Keim, Rom ru das Christenthura, 1881, p. 332 ff.

2 H . Thiersch, Vorlesungen iiber Katholicism. ii. Protestantism. 1846, r.
172 f.
* Entstehung der altkath. Kirche, pp. 272, 280, 298, 274 ff., 282.
were introduced and were foisted on the Christian thoughts.1
Certainly it is not a sufficient explanation (because it is too
general, and not sufficiently historical in its motive) to refer
this fact with Graul to the principle of legality in human
nature generally.1 2 Thiersch has more correctly explained the
fact from the attitude of opposition taken up to the gnostic
antinomianism: “ The ground of this phenomenon is to be found
in this historical opposition, and not merely in the general human
psychological root of all such aberrations; nor only in the prin
ciples of the ethics of the Stoics, which passed into the Alex
andrian School; nor in the moral pride of the Romana virtus,
which took form in the Western Church in the shape of
Christianity; nor, finally, is it to be found (or if so, only in the
very slightest degree) in echoes of the old Judaism. The
whole heathen gnosis was a most repulsive caricature of
Pauline doctrines, particularly in its practical principles, in its
denial of human freedom, in its view of a difference founded
upon natural necessity between men destined to salvation and
men not capable of it, in its opposition to the Old Testament
and the works of the law, in its assertion of the freedom of the
knower (Gnostic) from the moral law as well as from judg
ment. The Church did not succeed, as the Apostle John had
formerly done, in resisting the degeneracy in such a way that
the whole truth of the Pauline doctrine should be at the same
time preserved.” Rather was the right relation between justi
fication and living conduct distorted in the course of that
opposition, and the latter was thereby necessarily led to
assume the character of legality. “ Attention to the moral
attitude and conduct of man in relation to God predominates
over attention to the religious relationship of man as established
by God, and the right equipoise between these two sides of
the religious idea is wanting.” And the religious relationship to
Christ Himself came to be “ apprehended as the recognition of
the rule of faith and as the fulfilment of its law ” (Ritschl,
331, 581).
3. This aberration from the Pauline doctrine is not without
1 So Moritz v. Engelhardt in his “ Christenthum Justin’s ; ” Ad. Harnack,

Dogmengeschichte, i. ; Kurtz (in his Church History), and others.
2 Die christl. Kirche an der Schwelle des Irenaischen Zeitalters, Lpz. 1860,
p. 162, along with Th. Harnack’s Der christl. Geraeinde-Gottesdienst, p. 49.
a certain connection with Paul himself. For in the writings of
his later time, when he had himself already to deal with the
opposition which appears in the Pastoral Epistles, Paul leaves
the sharp points of his doctrine out of view in order to accen
tuate βύσβββια generally, and the moral health of the Christian
life. Even at an earlier stage, when he was not (as in the
polemical Epistles) dealing with the Pharisaic opposition, he had
already evidently moved on more general lines, and left the
opposition between Faith and Law in the background.1 And
hence it might easily come to be imagined that the individual
was moving on the basis of Pauline thoughts, even when their
proper meaning had come to be misunderstood. Again, as the
other apostles stated in a greater measure their agreement
with Paul, while at the same time they did not require to
expound their views with the same objective sharpness of
statement, the post-apostolic Church would be the more in
clined to believe that it stood upon the common apostolic
basis even although it had broken its relation to the Pauline
thoughts. ·
4. Heathen influences.— Along with a blunting of the appre
hension of Christianity from universalizing it, there co-operated
certain corresponding heathen as well as Jewish influences
tending to moralism. Certainly the Christianity of the post-
apostolic teachers did not consist merely in the triad of God,
Virtue, and Immortality, to which, since Ritschl led the way,
it has become customary to reduce it in its essentials.2 On
the contrary, Christ’s atoning death and the forgiveness of
sin, as well as the new power of life of the Holy Spirit, are in
all these teachers of fundamental significance for their manner
of thinking, while the Christian life was attached to the two
mysteries of baptism and the eucharist. Yet in their mode
of conception, and especially in connection with the forgive
ness of sin in baptism, the influence of the heathen way of
thinking asserts itself. Christ’s death was viewed after the
manner of heathen expiations, and thus instead of being con
ceived in connection with His person, and as the establishment
1 Cf. Hofmann, Schriftb. i. 608.

1 So M. v. Engelhardt, Das Christenthum Justin’s, p. 4 0 2 : “ Umdeutung des
Christcnth. ineinegottl. Tugend- u. Lohnlehre ; ” A . Hamack, Dogmengesch. i. ;
and even Gass, Gesch. d. christl. Ethik, i. p. 5 9 : “ Die drei Wahrheiten.”
of an abiding actuality of fellowship with God into which we
enter, it was regarded as a single fact with expiatory effect
upon sins lying in the past; and then for the life lying before
the individual there emerged the task of his own moral con
duct— of love— and of his own compensations for individual
sins.1 This opened the way to the moralizing mode of reflec
tion, which, moreover, could not but present itself to those who
had passed through the ancient moral philosophy. But this
did not give even the slightest justification for assimilating
Christianity and Hellenism, and thus denying the revelational
speciality of Christianity and the morality of the Church.1 2
5. Jewish influences. — Not less strongly have we to
estimate the Jewish influences, instead of excluding them,
as has become the prevalent habit in a one-sided opposition
to Baur by those who follow BitschTs views. For, the
originally Jewish basis of the Pauline communities could
not remain without temptation to a reaction. The Jewish
Christianity had, even after the event recorded in Acts xv.,
a paedagogic significance and a corresponding influence on
the Gentile Christian communities in regard to the moral
judgment and guidance of life. The fact of a Jewish
Christianity still existing in connection with the Church
in the time of Justin, cannot be ignored.3 These influences
operated specially through the Old Testament Apocrypha,
which, as is shown by the Christian literature of Alexandria,
were much used, and they exercised an important influence
in favour of the doctrine of works. The accentuation in
particular of alms, fasting, and prayer, and the expiatory
power which was attributed to alms4 (already in Barnabas
and even in Poly carp, x. 2), may certainly be traced back
to the Jewish influence. The issuing of Judaism in a high
estimate of intellect and works so far coincided with the
development of the ancient moral philosophy, so that the
1 Behm has referred to this in the work quoted above.

2 So, e.g.y AuW , St. Justin philosophe. Etude critique sur l’apolog^tique
chr&ienne au lie sifccle, Paris 1875, p. 2 1 2 : “ Christianity and Hellenism
fundamentally one.” 305: “ Thus Christianity [in the doctrine of the λίγος
ννιρματιχίς] has its roots in natural reason.” Cf. Th. Jahn’s notice in Schiirer’s
Theol. Lit.-Zeitung, 1876, p. 441 ff.
3 Shown by Hilgenfeld in his review of A. Hamack’s Dogmengesch. i.
4 Tob. iv. 10, xii. 9.
two came into contact with each other. Only— corresponding
to the distinction between heathenism and Judaism, and their
respective interests— while the former occupied itself with
the relationship to the world and liberation from nature, the
latter dealt with the relationship to God. The Jewish
influence thus brought about the turn of things favourable
for the heathen element, so that the proof for the fact of this
Jewish influence lies in it.1 And they also announced them
selves in the oldest formulation of Christian moral principles
which we have from the time immediately following the
Apostolic Age.
§ 2 8. The oldest post-Apostolic formulation o f moral doctrine

in the “ Teaching o f the Twelve Apostles.” 2
The educational need of definite formulation of doctrine

led also in the sphere of Ethics to a summary of what
was essential. This summary proceeded from the Jewish
Christian side, in accordance with its vocation, and it was
furnished to the young Gentile Christians. It lies before us
now in its oldest form as it is contained in the lately-
discovered “ Teaching of the Twelve Apostles,” in the section
designated as the “ Two Ways.” This production in its
other moral contents shows us the average character of the
post-Apostolic morals, but they are already accompanied with
traces of Judaistic legality.
1 See Diestel, Gesch. des A. T. in der christl. Kirche, Jena 1869. “ The
authority of the Old Testament essentially contributed to this, that Christianity
was apprehended as a new law.” “ The theocratic conception of the Church
(especially since Cyprian) arose out of the relationships, but it imbibed its
strength from the Ο. T. and took its idea of right from it, notwithstanding
that the theological tradition continued to assert the abrogation of the Law on
its Levitical side. This turn in the position is shown most strongly in the
Apostolical Constitutions,” p. 141.
2 The Literature of this subject is given in Dr. Schaff’s work : The oldest
Church Manual, called the Teaching of the Twelve Apostles : The Didache and
Kindred Documents, 2nd ed., T. & T. Clark, 1886. Editions of the Didache
by Bryennios, Constant. 1883, Hamack, 1884, and others. Cf. also H arnack,
Theol. Lit.-Zeitung, 1886, xii. 15. Th. Z ahn, Forschungen zur Gesch. des
neutest. Kanons, iii. 278-319. Funk , Theol. Quartalschr. 1884, iii. 381-402.
The Literature of this subject includes a large number of other publications.
1. The need o f formulation. — One would form a quite
erroneous idea of the actual state of the post - Apostolic
Church were the impression to be gathered from the
Pauline Epistles that we have here only a flood of indi
vidual tendencies and individual thoughts which assert
themselves in unchecked freedom, and are in conflict with
each other. Much rather is it the case that from an early
stage there existed definite orders of life and formulations of
faith and confession. The first Christian Church had sprung
from Israel. But an Israelite was accustomed to definite regu
lation of thought and life. This custom was not left behind
in accepting the faith in Jesus the Christ and joining the
community of His confessors. Moreover, the need of fellow
ship, as well as the pedagogic task which fell to the Church,
could not but further this tendency. Still more was this the
case as the bounds of the Church were enlarged, and as
heathens entered into the community for whom the Christian
Israel was the called teacher. Accordingly we find the
Christian faith formulated in the baptismal confession, and
in the rules of faith which grew out of it. W e also find
prayer formulated in the Lord's Prayer and in its early
statutory usage, as well as in definite eucharistic prayers
in the “ Teaching of the Apostles,” which appear to go
back to the earliest apostolic time, and which, like the
doxologies in the Apocalypse, let their Jewish foundation
be recognised. W hy then should not the subject of morality
have found likewise a similar formulation ? W e are thus led
to regard the “ Two Ways,” which are found in the “ Teaching
of the Apostles ” as well as in the Epistle of Barnabas and
in the Shepherd of Hermas, and in various other forms or
traces, as such a primitive formulation of the ancient
Church.
2. The “ Teaching of the Twelve A postles:” Διδαχή των
δώδεκα αποστόλων, or as it is more exactly entitled in the
superscription of the text itself: Διδαχή Κυρίου δια των δώδεκα
αποστολών τοΐ 9 εθνεσιν (i.e. to the Gentile Christians), as
lately discovered and edited by Bryennios, represents the
influence of the Jewish Christianity upon the Christians
from among the Gentiles. For in its whole bearing it
shows, not a heathen - Christian, but a Jewish - Christian
VOL. i. H
origin,1 while by the addition το?? εθνεσιν it indicates
a Gentile-Christian destination. At least the eucharistic
prayers in it (which undoubtedly are not due to the
author, but are elements handed down from the early
Christian worship) are not of Egyptian origin; 2 and it dis
closes very original conditions in the character of the
ecclesiastical relations presupposed. This work must be
assigned to an earlier date than the Epistle of Barnabas,
which contains the “ Two Ways ” at its close, but much
out of order. It must also have preceded the Shepherd of
Hermas,3 so that it may be regarded as belonging to the
end of the first century. The whole production is an ancient
Church Order, and it is indeed the oldest of its kind. The
Two Ways of Life and D eath4 are contained in chaps,
i.- v i .; but although their matter is ethical, they contain
only, according to Matt, xxviii. 20 (διδάσκοντες αυτούς τηρβΐν
ττάντα οσα ενετβΐλάμην νμΐν), an exhortation addressed to
catechumens as introductory to the following act of baptism.
Chaps, vii.—x. contain regulations with reference to the order
of baptism and the Lord’s Supper, together with eucharistic
prayers which are certainly of early date and perhaps of
apostolic origin, and which claim the highest interest.
Chaps, xi. - xvi. contain regulations of the community
regarding apostles (itinerating preachers), prophets, and
teachers, bishops and deacons. Chap. xvi. closes with an
eschatological outlook which especially attaches itself to
Matt. xxiv. 25 as well as to 2 Thess. ii. This shows in
particular that the Gospel of Matthew then existed in the
form in which we now have it. Besides this, the Gospel of
Luke is also recognised in this writing.5 This also shows
that the Didach£ is of Jewish-Christian origin ; yet it does
1 As Ad. Harnack at least formerly thought. He considers it originated in
Egypt, c. a . d . 150 (140-165).
2 For chap. ix. speaks of corn on the mountains.
3 For I cannot convince myself that the Didach^ is dependent on the
“ Shepherd,” as is maintained by Th. Zahn in his Forschungen, etc., and by
Wohlenberg in his recent work, Die L. der zwolf App. in ihrem Verhaltniss
zum neutest. Schriftthum, Erlangen 1888.
* On the basis of Jer. xxi. 8, and at the same time in allusion to Matt. vii.
13, 14. This representation goes far down. Thus it is found even in
Lactantius, Inst. div. vi. 3. 1. Cf. § 39. 2.
* Wohlenberg counts thirty passages (or after deducting doubtful ones, twenty-
not repudiate the Pauline proclamation, but represents the
apostolic average (the twelve apostles).
3. The Two Ways.— It is a sort of moral catechism which
the “ Teaching of the Apostles ” gives in the first six chapters
under this title. This sketch of Christian ethics was cer
tainly much circulated in an independent form, and thus
used; and it has thereby easily acquired different forms and
expressions in detail. W e have no guarantee for believing
that we have now the correct text. Here and there it appears
to present unmistakeable traces of a corrupt expression. At
all events we have in it a monument of the ethics of the
post-Apostolic Church of the common ecclesiastical type. For
it is unquestionable that we have in the Didache a production
designed for proselytes (as Harnack at least once thought),
and that it was of Christian and not of Jewish origin.
There are no specifically Jewish marks in it. The whole is
built upon the two fundamental commandments of love to
God and love to our neighbour. This especially applies to the
exposition of the Way of Life, and also to the details relat
ing to the second commandment, beginning from the love of
our enemies and expounded both in a positive and negative
form. The exposition of the W ay of Death follows the
exposition of the W ay of Life,
On account of its importance, the ethical teaching of the

Didache is reproduced in the following extracts and sum
maries :—
“ Chap. i. There are Two W ays—one of Life and one of
Death; but there is great difference between the Two Ways.
Now the Way of Life is th is: First, thou shalt love God who
made thee;1 secondly, thy neighbour as thyself;2 and all
things whatsoever thou wouldst not have done to thee, neither
do thou to another.3 Now the teaching contained in these
words is th is: Bless those who curse you, and pray for your
enemies, and fast for those who persecute y o u ; for what thank
six) in which the Didache presupposes and refers to the Gospel of Matthew, and
five similarly referring to Luke.
1 So Justin, Apol. i. 16. 2 Matt. xxii. 37-39.
3 Matt. vii. 12, but here in a negative and thereby a distorting form. In
this form the expression is also found elsewhere as the sum of ethical doctrine,
as in the Clementine Recognitions, viii. 56 : omnis enim propemodum actuum
nostrorum in eo colligitur observantia, ut quod ipsi pati nolumus, ne hoc aliis
is there if ye love those who love you ? 1 Do not even the
Gentiles the same ? But love ye those who hate you, and ye
shall not have an enemy. Abstain from fleshly and bodily
lusts.2 If any one give thee a blow on the right cheek, turn to
him the other also,8 and thou shalt be perfect. If any one press
thee to go with him one mile, go with him two. If any one
take from thee what is thine, ask it not back, as indeed thou
canst not.4 Give to every one that asketh thee, and ask not
back,5 for the Father wills that we should give to a l l 6 from His
own blessings.7 Blessed is he that gives according to the
commandment, for he is guiltless.8 Woe to him that receives:
for if any one receives having need, he shall be guiltless; but he
that has not need, shall give account,” etc.
Chap. ii. then brings in the negative side, attaching the
detail primarily to the Decalogue. “ Thou shalt not kill.
Thou shalt not commit adultery ; thou shalt not corrupt boys;
thou shalt not commit fornication. Thou shalt not steal.
Thou shalt not use witchcraft; thou shalt not practise sorcery
(φαρμαχευειν). Thou shalt not procure abortion,9 nor shalt thou
kill the new-born child.10 Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s
goods. Thou shalt not forswear thyself. Thou shalt not bear
false witness. Thou shalt not speak evil; thou shalt not bear
malice. Thou shalt not be double-minded nor double-tongued,”
etc.
Chap. iii. gives warning against anger, murder, idolatry,
lying, etc., and exhorts to meekness and humility.
Chap. iv. exhorts to observing the words of the preacher of
the Word of God, and to avoid division, and rather to care for
peace. “ Be not one that stretches out his hands for receiving,
but draws them in from giving.11 I f thou hast, thou shalt give
with thy hands a ransom (λΰτρωσιν) for thy sins.” 12 Exhortation
is thereafter given to bring up the children to the fear of God,
inferamus . . . et intra hanc regulam humanorum gestorum singula quaeque
concurrunt.
1 Matt. v. 44-46 ; Luke vi. 27 if. “ Fast” in the text is a peculiar alteration
which already shows an alteration of the right way of thinking, even if the
“ fasting” were meant as a means of making beneficence possible.
* 1 Pet. ii. 11. 3 Matt. v. 39 ff.
4 A peculiar addition to the words of Scripture, due to the state of the time.
* Luke vi. 30.
* ViloaSou is here used in the Middle Voice, according to the later Greek usage.
7 Pastor Hermae, Mand. ii. 4, only with 'δωρημάτων instead of χαραμάτων,
8 Similarly Pastor Hermae, Mand. ii. 6 ; cf. Acts xx. 35 : “ It is more blessed
to give than to receive. ”
* A reproach often addressed by the Apologists to the heathen.
10 Directed against a widespread heathen habit.
11 Sirach iii. 31 (36). 12 Matt. xi. 29 f.
and to treat the believing slaves in a kindly way, while the slaves
have to be subject to their masters as a type ( twos) of God.
" In the congregation thou shalt confess thy transgressions,
and thou shalt not come to thy prayer with an evil conscience.”
“ This is the Way of life .”
Chap. v. then gives in contrast the W ay of Death in the
sins of cursing, murder, adultery, etc.
Chap. vi. proceeds thus: “ Take heed that no one lead thee
astray from the' way of this teaching, since he teacheth thee
apart from God. For if indeed thou art able to bear the whole
yoke of the Lord, thou wilt be perfect; but if thou art not
able, do what thou canst. And as regards food, bear what
thou canst; but against idol-offerings be exceedingly on thy
guard, for it is a service of dead gods.” W ith this ends the
address to the candidates for baptism.
One clearly recognises the Jewish soil upon which this

Christian exhortation grew. But the view presented is not
Judaistic; for the conduct here required is not expounded as
the condition of the covenant of baptism, but as the standard
for the future conduct of the baptized, and the relationship
of grace is therefore regarded as the presupposition of that
conduct. Only it appeared to be doubly necessary in the
case of candidates for baptism from among the heathen (and
not without reason) to remind them of the moral earnestness
of the Christian life in contrast to the heathen inclination to
moral laxity. So in Pliny’s account to Trajan (of which we
are here involuntarily reminded) the addresses to the com
munity are represented as of a similarly moral nature. The
"Teaching of the Twelve Apostles” aim3 at reminding the
Gentile converts of the moral earnestness of the Christian
life, and it has done this. The short moral catechism, as it is
here given, continued to do its work. W e see its continued
influence in Barnabas and Hermas, and then in Alexandria
and Kome. The fundamental outlines of the order for wor
ship and for the guidance of the community, were developed
into the later Church Orders found in the Apostolical Con
stitutions, etc., which exercised considerable influence upon
both the Eastern and the Western Church till far down. But
the Didach6 contains (and undoubtedly was thus at the same
time the means of diffusing) the beginnings of a false view of
works. For although it is in other respects neither specifically
Judaistic nor even Pauline, but presents the general Christian
type, it still speaks in Chap. iv. of alms as a Χύτρωση
αμαρτιών; 1 then in Chap. viii. it accentuates the purely
external distinction between the two Christian fast days
(Wednesday and Friday) and the two Jewish fast days
(Monday and Thursday), and it ordains the repetition thrice
every day of the Lord’s Prayer. Although the state of the
Christian is described as a state of faith, yet its representation
lacks the full and clear Pauline tone. Christianity appears
predominantly as a moral mode of conduct in holy earnest
ness, common prayer, humble concord, and hope of the future.
This was the form in which the young Church appeared to
the heathen world, and made its victorious impression upon
it. That was in correspondence with its character, and it was
demanded by the relations of the tim e; but at the same time it
furnished an opening for the alien element of Judaistic legalism,
and it came into contact with the element of the heathen
moralism.
§ 29. The Apostolic Fathers.2

The immediate literature of the post-Apostolic Age contains
moral material of a varied kind, although it is not elaborated
scientifically but appears predominantly in the form of
exhortation. The so-called Apostolic Fathers all belong by
their origin and tendency to the Gentile-Christian soil; and
they believe that they are in harmony with the Pauline as
well as with the other apostolical literature, without being
conscious of their considerable deviation in parts from it.
Christianity had to gain a place in human society and an
external form in life, and, corresponding to this activity, it
appears here in contrast both to the heathen antinomianism
and to the order of the Law of the Old Testament, as the
1 Cf. Dan. iv. 24 ; Tob. iv. 10, xii. 9 ; but also Polyc. ad Phil. 10. 2.
2 Cf. the edition of the Apostolic Fathers, by O. v. Gebhardt, Ad. Hamack,
and Th. Zahn, Lpz. 1876-77. H ilgenfeld, Die app. Vv. Untersuchungen,
etc., Halle 1853. Further, the relevant sections in Ritschl’s Altkath. Kirche,
and M. v. Engelhardt, Das Christenth. Justin’s, etc. E. F ranke , Die Lehre
d. ap. V . Ztschr. fur luth. Theol. u. Kirche, 1841 ff. [J. Donaldson : The
Apostolical Fathers, 1874.]
new law of inwardness and freedom, and consequently of
universality, and as the new life of faith and love springing
out of the spirit of Christ, as well as of hope and fear.
Christianity also brought along with it the virtues of purity,
humility, obedience, and peaceableness, but the post-Apostolic
Age already begins to show a dimming of the significance of
the principle, of faith and the righteousness of faith.
1. The {First) Epistle o f Clement o f Rome to the Corinthians

was written in the commission of the Eoman Church, c. A.D. 95,
on the occasion of disturbances which had arisen in Corinth
through the wrongous deposition of the presbyters. Chaps,
i.-xxii. exhort to humility, obedience, and peaceableness in
contrast to envy and pride. Chaps, xxiii.-xxxvi. carry on
the exhortation on the ground of the Christian motives of
hope, faith, and love. Chaps., xxxvii.-lix. refer to the
Corinthian divisions which give occasion for presenting a view
of order {τάξις, c. 4 0) and harmony (c. 30, 33, 34), which
are established by mutual humble subordination {επιείκεια
καί ταπεινοφροσύνη και πραύτης). It is shown how this
order forms the universal divine law in the whole of nature
(c. 19, 20) by separation from the ceremonial matters in the
Old Testament (according to Christian gnosis, c. 36, 41, 4 5 );
and how it is also to be realized in the Church by mutual
humble subordination (ταπεινοφροσύνη, according to the type
of the death of Christ, c. 37). Faith is indeed indicated in
the Pauline way as the only condition of salvation (32. 4),
and the άηαθοποιια και ayaπη {παν epyov αηαθόν) required
by the will of God is derived from faith {πανάρετος πίστις,
c. 1), but not from justification. Christ’s death is indeed
applied as a call to μετάνοια (c. 7), and therefore to moral
conduct; but justification and new moral conduct stand side
by side, and are not put into an inner relationship to each
other. Hence an independent significance for the relation
ship of man to God is attributed to the moral doing of man,
to love, prayer, etc. The common conception of obedience
comprises the obedience of faith and obedience in good works
(c. 9, 10). Faith manifests righteousness (c. 31, 33, 4 8 );
and the forgiveness of sins is derived from it (c. 50, μακάριος
εσμεν, el τα προστάγματα του Θεού εποιούμεν εν ομονοία
αγάπης, είς το άφεθήναι ήμϊν δί* αγάπης τάς αμαρτίας ημών).
The Pauline basis is still distinctly recognisable, but the
consciousness of its significance has almost disappeared, and
the practical tendency conduces still more to make the
individual satisfied with a general Christian bearing, and to
make him indifferent towards determinate dogmas. Thus a
mode of thinking that is specifically contrary to that of Paul,
comes to take its place. But the lately discovered conclusion
of the Epistle, with the great ecclesiastical prayer of the
Eoman Church, not only sounds forth the full biblical note of
prayer, but also involuntarily awakens admiration for the
moral greatness and Christian fervour which are here ex
pressed, and which enables us to see that a power lay hidden
here against which even the power of the Eoman Empire
could do nothing. On the other hand, this prayer is also
full of significance in its expression of the patriotic recogni
tion of the sovereign power as ordained by God (c. 6 1 );
and it shows that the primitive Christianity, with all its
withdrawal from the world, was still conscious of preserv
ing a positive relationship to the orders of the earthly life.
2. The so - called Second Epistle o f Clement, a homily
addressed to a congregation,1 belongs to the second century
(c. 1 3 0 -1 4 5 ). It is the oldest congregational sermon which
we have. It originated at Eome, and it has some affinity with
the Shepherd of Hermas. It is a still less Pauline and more
strongly moralizing exhortation to repentance (μετανοείν) and ·
to confession (εξομοΧογεΐσθαι) of the Eedeemer as a counter
performance in return (αντιμισθία) for what we owe to
Christ (i. 2 ff.). W e confess Jesus, however, by the fulfil
ment of His commandments (eV τα ποιεΐν a Χεγεν teal μη
παρακούει αυτού των εντοΧών, κ.τ.Χ., c. 3), by the con
fession of Him in our actions (εν τοΐς εργοις αυτόν ομοΧογωμεν,
c. 4), and in love to our neighbour (iv. 1, 2). The incarna
tion of Christ specially reminds us that we are also to keep
our flesh holy (c. 9), looking to the future reward; and this
is especially applied in opposition to the libertine gnosticism
(of Carpocrates)2 and the Epicurean antinomianism (c. 10),
1 This view is mentioned by Mohler, Patrologie, herausg. v. Reithmayr.
2 Nitzsch, Dogmengesch. p. 99.
connected with the denial of the resurrection. In this way
(ποιούντες το Θέλημα του Χ ριστού) we attain salvation
(σωζόμεθα), the βασίλεια τού Θεού (c. 12), and the άνάπαυσις.
All this may he right if it rests upon the right presupposition
of justification, which makes all doing a grateful response to
the divine gift. But if this is lacking, it is the way of
legalism which estimates the conduct externally; and it
comes to such estimation (cf. 16. 4). Alms are good as
repentance of sin (καλόν ovv ελεημοσύνη ώς μετάνοια αμαρ
τίας) ; fasting is better than prayer; but alms is better than
both. Love covers a multitude of sins; prayer from a pure
heart saves from death. Blessed is every one who has been
found full of alms (iμακάριος πας ο εύρεθεϊς εν τούτοις πλήρης) ;
for alms effect a diminution of the burden of sin (ελεημοσύνη
γαρ κούφισμα αμαρτίας γίνεται). This is the way of salvation
and the morality of the Old Testament Apocrypha (cf. Tob.
xii. 8, 9 ); it is the accomplished or acquired righteousness of
one’s own conduct instead of the imputed righteousness of faith.
3. The Epistle of Barnabas, dating from the beginning of
the second century, and written by a Gentile Christian and
for Gentile Christians, originated on Alexandrian soil. It
aims at showing that the new Law of Jesus Christ has
entered into the place of the abolished Old Testament law.
This new law is a law of inwardness; it is the indwelling of
faith and love through the hope of eternal life (1. 4). This
is represented as the three δόγματα of the L ord: the hope of
life, which is the beginning and goal of our faith; righteous
ness, which is the beginning and goal of judgment; and
joyous love, which is the evidence of the works of righteous
ness (1. 6). In other words, it is the fulfilment of the new
law of freedom 1 in virtue of the indwelling of the spirit and
word of God and of Christ within, after we receive forgive
ness of sins, and have been created anew (16. 8 -1 0 ). Here
then the Pauline basis is still so far maintained; for the
forgiveness lies backwards and the hope forwards, and
between these the Christian life realizes itself as the “ way
of light ” (c. 1 9 ) 2 in love and fear towards God and love
1 2. 6 : Nova lex domini nostri Jesu Christi, quae sine jugo necessitatis,
c. 4 : U t dilectio Jesu consignetur in praecordiis vestris in spem fidei illius.
2 In opposition to the way of darkness, which leads to destruction.
towards our neighbour, in communicativeness of earthly goods
which reckons nothing as the exclusive property of its
possessor (c. 19), but gives alms which work as a ransom
for sin (Βια των χβιρων σου ipyaarj eh λύτρον αμαρτιών,
19. 10) in truth, uprightness, and justice; which avoids
heathen idolatry and vices among which, along with idol-
worship, and hypocrisy, and lying, special emphasis is laid
upon the widespread habit of taking away the life of children
before or after birth (c. 19, 20). This is specially expounded
in the “ Two Ways ” with which the Epistle concludes, as the
“ Teaching of the Apostles ” similarly begins with an exposi
tion of them. It is necessary, continues Barnabas, to call to
mind this higher truth of the Old Testament law in order
that one may not be putting oneself at ease in a false way
with the justification which has already taken place (ώ? ήΒη
ΒβΒικαιωμένοι, 4. 1 0 ; ως κλητοί, 4. 13).1 This reminder
was the more necessary, the more that faith began to be
apprehended as an intellectual thing. It had the effect,
however, of setting the moral conduct as something distinct
beside justification, and thus making it independent in a
false way.
4. The Ignatian Epistles?— The regulating point of view
for the Ignatian Epistles is that of churchly unity. It is
only by being introduced into the ordered fellowship of the
Christian community that the Christian life of the individual
in faith and hope realizes its truth. The new life of the
Christian proceeds from Christ and the Holy Spirit, and it
realizes itself in faith and love. The cross of Christ is the
μηχανή which carries u s ; the Holy Spirit is the rope; faith
is the ά να γω ^ ύς; and love is the way which brings us to God
(ad Eph. 9). Faith and love to Christ are the beginning
(αρχή, principle) and goal (τβλο?) of life ; but like Christ’s
σα ρ ξ and αϊμα, they form also a consistent unity to which
everything else is attached; 1*3 but love is the principal thing.
1 Nitzsch, a.a.O. p. 101.

8 Th. Zahn in his and 0 . v. Gebliardt’s ed., and Nirschl, Die Theologie
des heil. Ignatius, Mainz 1880.
3 Ad Eph. 9. 14 : βύ$ί* Χανθάνιι υμα,ς tav π λ ιίω ι ili *1. Xp, ί χ π π r»j» vrtffri*
xet) rhv uyxerv*, Uvis ttrrtv ζωής xet) τίλβ ς. α ρχ ν μι* orierrif, rtXos it α γ ά * * ·
τί 2* $να tv \vir%n γινβμινα Bto{ iernv ret δί άλλα τάντα ile xetXex&yetitetv οίκόλουΰά.
Xvrn,
For as the σαρξ indicates the historical manifestation of
Christ, so likewise the faith which relates to it is more of a
historical nature. Love, however, corresponds to the blood
which circulates in the body, and is therefore, as it were, the
living blood of the Church. Christ’s death is the power of
love, which draws us into the fellowship of His death in
order that we may arise again animated as with new love.
We are specially participative of this principle of love in the
Lord’s Supper. The blood of Christ in the Supper is the
power that produces love. The Church, then, is the covenant
of love in which everything is directed towards union; and
the vicarious love of Christ continues itself, as it were, in
the mutual relations of conduct. It is not merely in the
exercise of fellowship in worship that this unity exhibits
itself in the most beautiful way (ad Magnes. 7), but all
Christian action ought to have a churchly character (thus,
e.g., marriage is not to be concluded without the γνώμη of the
bishop, ad Polyc. o). The whole Christian life has to grow
out of faith and love as the realization of the moral ideal
of the καλοκάγαθία. It is a divinely consecrated life (ad
Polyc. 7), a warfare. Of baptism it is said, μενίτω ώς όπλα ;
faith is to be the helm, love is to be the spear, η υπομονή
ώ? πανοπλία (ad Polyc. 6). But the highest exercise of
love to Christ is martyrdom, which was the longing of the
Bishop of Antioch (ad Eph. 1, 1 1 ; ad Bom. 2, 4, 6). A ll
this is expressed more from overflow of feeling in dogmatic
indefiniteness than in actual error, and it is without false
asceticism. This is shown in the well-known words about
celibacy and marriage. “ If one can continue in con
tinence (iv ayveia), let him remain so to the honour of
the flesh of the Lord without boasting (eV άκαυγρσία).
But it becomes those who marry and are married that
their alliance should take place with the consent (μετά
γνώμης, cum sententia) of the bishop, in order that the
marriage may be to the Lord, and not according to lust.
Let everything be done to the glory of God ” (ad
Polyc. 5).
5. A more measured and sober spirit prevails in the
Epistle of Polycarp to the Philippians. Full of quotations and
reminiscences from the New Testament, and especially from
Paul and Peter, he here calls grace in opposition to works
our saving (c. 1 ; cf. Eph. 2. 8, 9 ); and he designates faith
as “ the mother of us all,” inasmuch as the new life grows
out of it. Hope follows faith; but love to God and Christ
and to our neighbour precedes faith (that is, in rank).1 “ He
who stands in these has fulfilled the commandment of
righteousness; for he who has love is far removed from all
sin ” (c. 3). In stating such doctrine, the author’s endeavour
and consciousness are directed only to maintaining the apos
tolical tradition and the Christian fellowship, and warding off
heretical innovations. In opposition to the surrounding
world, he exhorts to careful and meek conduct (c. 10), to
abstinence from all heathen ways (c. 11), but also to inter
cession for kings, priests, and powers, as well as for the
persecutors and enemies of the cross (c. 12). With all the
Paulinism apparent in this whole mode of thinking, we have
alms still recommended here too, on the ground contained
in the Apocrypha (Tob. iv. 10), that they redeem from
death.
6. The Epistle to Diognetus, on the other hand, exhibits
the new moral spirit of Christianity without regard to
churchly fellowship, and in diametrical opposition both to
the foolish idolatry of heathenism and to the foolish and
ridiculous religionism that attached itself to the Old Testa
ment. The new spirit is represented in its absolute newness
and inward freedom as above all that is earthly (with which,
however, the Christians still stand connected), and as the
hidden power of the whole cosmical existence. This new life
is described in proud words. The Christians live like other
men, and yet quite otherwise. “ They dwell in their own
native lands, but are strangers. They take part in all things
as citizens, and they suffer all things as foreigners. Every
foreign country is a fatherland to them, and every native
land is yet a foreign land. They have the table in common,
but yet not common. They are in the flesh, but do not live
after the flesh. They live upon the earth, but are citizens of
heaven. They obey the existing laws, and excel the laws by
their lives. They love all, and are hated by a ll” (c. 5).
1 Against Zahn’s view, PP. App. Opp. ii. p. 116. Cf. Clem. Alex. Quis
dives, c. 3, 29.
What the soul is in the body, that the Christians are in the
world (c. 6). This, however, they owe not to men but to
God, who planted in their hearts “ the truth and the holy
and unfathomable w ord” through Christ Himself, by whom
the world was created, and who nevertheless appeared in
meekness and gentleness for redemption, not with violence,
but with mild persuasion {βία yap ού πρόσεστι, τώ Θεώ), to
love and not to judge. But assuredly He is about to appear
at His second coming as judge (c. 7). Christianity is there
fore a moral power that inwardly renovates and elevates
above the world in the spirit of love, which is, at the same
time, the truth of the world.
7. The Shepherd o f Hermas} — While in the Epistle to
Diognetus the spirit of individual mysticism breathes in
accordance with the tendency of the Greek mind, the Shepherd
of Hermas expresses the genuine Eoman spirit of churchly
communion bound up with the severe earnestness of the
Christian order of life. This work stands in high, almost
canonical, authority. In it the ascetic tendency of the ethics
of the ancient Church has found its first expression, and the
tendency has received further impulse from it. The funda
mental moral conception of this book is that of the life for
God. This life is the gift of God, salvation being received
through baptism; and the preservation of it, and its alw?ays
renewed attainment, form the moral task of the Christians.
Thus the objective side of the working of salvation by Christ
falls into the background before the subjective side of the
moral conduct of the individual himself. In this sense the
Christ preached to the world, appears as the law given to the
world. The two aspects of Christ, in so far as He has brought
on the one hand the cancelling of sins, and on the other the
law of God which shows the paths of life, fall asunder.2 That
is the moral element of this book and the nature of its view.
Now the author wishes by his work to establish this law, for
1 Th. Zahn, Der Hirte des Hermas, Gotha 1868. Winter, Sittliche Grand-
anschauungen im Hirten des Hermas, Ztschr. fur kirchl. Wissenschaft, 1884,
pp. 33-46. M. v. Engelhardt, Das Christenthum Justin’s, p. 410 ff. Uhlhorn
in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 vL 9 ff. Schenk, Ztschr. f. kirchl. Wissenschaft, 1885, 8.
Zum ethischen Lehrbegr. des Hirten des Herm. Gymn.-Prog. Aschersleben,
1886 (especially on “ Sin,” as in Hernias).
2 Cf. Winter, p. 44.
Christendom needs it. Accordingly he receives his revelations
from the “ angel of repentance,” who appears in the form of a
shepherd (Vis. v.). These revelations are divided (although
not by the author himself) into five Visions (οράσε*?, visiones),
twelve commandments (eVroXa/, mandata), and ten similitudes
(τταραβόλαί, similitudines). The moral exhortations are set
forth under the point of view of repentance. The author
impresses the necessity of repentance from regard to the
impending completion of the Church and the judgment of the
world, and in opposition to the increasing laxness, more
especially in reference to the desire of enjoyment and attach
ment to earthly goods and the earthly sense. He also urges
it in opposition to the ambition, discord, and unbridled conduct
of the clergy, both higher and lower, and against the secular
ization of the Church. By this exclusive accentuation of the
moral element, the exhortations in consequence obtain a legal
and, even already, an ascetic character. The author diverges
from the current triad of faith, hope, and love, occasioned by
the particular character and aim of his work, and perhaps
with an objective reference to the four cardinal virtues of the
ancients; and he designates the four principal virtues as fides,
abstinentia, potestas ( = fortitudo ?), and patientia. These are
followed — with an already increasing inclination towards
schematic constructions— by the eight wider virtues : simpli
citas, innocentia, castitas, hilaritas, veritas, intelligentia, con
cordia, caritas (Sim. ix. 15). Over against the former virtues
stand: perfidia, intemperantia, incredulitas, voluptas; and
over against the latter: tristitia, malitia, libido, iracundia,
mendacium, stultitia, inflatio, odium (cf. Vis. iii. 8, Mand. viii.).
Every successive virtue is the filia of the one preceding. Here
also fides is the mother of them all (Vis. iii. 8 ); and the
whole circle is enclosed by fides and caritas. The tendency
is a “ mystical nomism ” which rests upon a real fellowship,
and not merely on a moral harmony with Christ.1 But it is
at the same time a nomism which accentuates doing in a
manner not compatible with the truth of the righteousness
which is of faith. It sets forth Christianity predominantly
under the point of view of a divine furtherance and a human
performance; and so it paves the way to the distinction of
1 Th. Zahn, Der Hirt des H. 1868, p. 467.
the double morality of the ordinary and extraordinary modes
of action, the precepta evangelica and the consilia evangelica.
The beginnings of this distinction 1 are already found here in
the references to fasting, to sexual continence in marriage,2
and to martyrdom (Simil. ix. 28).3 This production certainly
represents the current Christianity of those days in so far as
it moves on the path of legal moralism. On the common soil
of the morality of the Old Testament Apocrypha it brings this
moralism into relationship with the Judaistic mode of thinking,
as it is found in the fundamentally Jewish production called
“ the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs ” 4 with their ex
hortations to mildness, chastity, moderation, and peaceableness.
At the same time, it strikes into the path of the ascetic
righteousness; and here it is in accord with the ascetic
tendency of such works as the Acta Pauli et Theclm5 and their
ascetic judgment of the married life (Acta, etc., c. 5 : μακάριοι
οι βγρντβ9 γυναίκας ώς μη βγοντ€?). The error of this way of
thinking consists in its transforming what is meant in reference
to the disposition, and especially continence, into an external
practical mode of conduct, and so making it a work.6 Thus
did the first unconscious divergence from the strict line of
the Pauline doctrine of justification lead step by step into
intellectualism and moralism, — a movement which was
furthered by Judaistic influences based on the Apocrypha,
and heathen influences springing from the moral philosophy
of the time.
1 Sim. V. 3 : lav n αγαθόν oroifoys laros rns IvroXns rov βίου, σιαυτω fTtpioromay
ίόξαν οτιρισσοτίραν και i <ry ιν'δοζόπρο; παρά rep Θίω ου ΙμμιΧΧίς uvai; cf. Mand. IV. 3.
2 Vis. ii. 2 : Conjux tua futura est soror tua — ; continebit se et consequetur
misericordiam, c. 3 : Simplicitas et singularis continentia salvum facient te.
Sim. ix. 1 1 : Nobiscum dormiet ut frater non ut maritus.
3 M. v. Engelhardt, Justin, p. 419. Th. Zahn (p. 177 ff.) also recognises at
least a certain precedence in honour.
4 Cf. Schiirer, Gesch. des jiid. Yolks, 2 Aufl. 1886, ii. 662 ff.
6 Ritschl, Die Entstehung der altkath. Kirche (1857), pp. 292-4 ; and Schlau,
Die Akten, etc., ein Beitrag zur christl. Liter.-Gesch., Lpz. 1877, hold this
work to be of Gentile-Christian Catholic origin and of anti-Gnostic tendency.
Lipsius, Dieapokryph. Ap. geschichten u. Ap. legenden, ii. 1, Braunschw. 1887;
Appendix on Gnostic writings and their catholic revision in the third century.
6 Cf. Acta, etc., C. 5, 6 : μακάριοι οι καθαρό) ry xapdi'a, o n airot rot θεόν oypovrai.
μακάριοι o! ayvbv rnv σάρκα rnpwavrtSy o n αυτοί ναοί θίβΰ y t νήσονται. μακάριοι ot
iya p a n ts , etc. μακάρια ret σώ μ α τα των παρόίνων, etc.
1
II. T h e E t h ic s of the G reek C hurch.
§ 30. The Ethics o f the Apologists o f the Second Century.
T heApologists of the second century likewise accentuate the

novelty and sublimity of Christianity; and consequently they
also speak in a similar way of the Christian morality. They
thus represent it in contrast to the extra-Christian and pre-
Christian morality, both Jewish and heathen; while, on the
other hand, they lay stress upon its originality, and its connec
tion with the truth of heathenism and Judaism. They express
this in the notions of the Logos (Reason) and of the new Law;
and they make prominent in Christianity the two sides of
knowledge and morality, which have both their source in the
grace of regeneration in baptism, but which at the same time
require the free-will of man, whose conduct, springing from
the motives of fear and hope, has to expect a corresponding
recompense from God. Through such media did the Greek
Christian seek to connect his new consciousness, both for
himself and others, with his other world of Greek thought.
1. Justin Martyr ( f c. 1 6 5 ) 1 in prosecuting his apologetic

work is led to speak of the sublimity of the Christian morality
in contrast to the heathen morality. In this behoof he refers
to the moral alteration which had taken place through faith
1 Otto, Corpus apologetarum Christianorum seculi secundi, Jen. 1876 sqq.

Semisch, Justin d. M ., 2 Bde. Bresl. 1840, M. v. Engelhardt, Das Christen-
thum Justin’s, Erlangen 1878. Hilgenfeld, Ztsclir. fur wissensch. Theologie,
1879. Stahlin, Justin d. M. u. sein neuester Beurtheiler, Lpz. 1876. (The two
last against Engelhardt.) Behm, Bemerkungen zum Christenth. Justin’s d.
M ., Ztsclir. fiir kirchl. Wissensch. 1882, pp. 478-627. Dieckhoff, Justin,
Augustin, Bernhard u. Luther. Entwicklungsgang christl. Wahrheitserfas-
sung, Lpz. 1882.
in the Christians.1 “ Since we have come to believe on the
Logos we have been delivered from these demons (idols), and
follow only the unbegotten God through the Son. We who
formerly found pleasure in lust now find delight only in moral
temperance (σωφροσύνην). W e who once followed sorcery
have now consecrated ourselves to the good and unbegotten
G od; we who once loved gain above all things now give up
what we have to be common property (e h kolvov φέροντβς)
and share it with every one who is in need ; we who once hated
and killed each other, and who would have no common hearth or
domestic fellowship with those who are not of our own tribe
because of their different customs, have now, since the appear
ance of Christ, a common table. And we pray for our enemies ;
and we seek to win those who hate us without cause, so that
they, living after the glorious teaching of Christ, may have
good hope and may become participative with ourselves of the
same blessings from the God who rules over a ll” (c. 1 2 , 13,
67 ; Dial. 47 ; Apol. i. 14). Justin knows, indeed, of many
who are not Christians although they confess Christ’s doctrine
with the mouth (i. 1, 16, 63 E ); and these he willingly
gives up to the punishment of the heathen (c. 16, 64 C).
Notwithstanding this he can point with pride to innumerable
Christians in the case of whom Christ’s word has become
truth, who have been converted from incontinence to con
tinence, and who through a long life have kept themselves
uncorrupted, and have proved themselves to be such (c. 15,
62 B). In contrast to the heathen ethics, he triumphantly
sets forth the morality of Christ in a summary of the ethical
precepts of the Sermon on the Mount (Apol. i. 1 5 -1 7 ).
What Justin here brings into prominence is more especially
purity (already from the desires of the heart) and love even
to enemies, in the manifoldness of its active manifestations, as
well as obedience to the sovereign power occasioned by the
social conditions of the time. It is only when denial of the
Christian confession comes into question that this obedience
lias a lim it; for conscientiousness stands above everything
else to the Christian : “ We will not live with lies ” (Apol. i. 8 ;
cf. Tatian, c. 4). This morality, again, is at the same time the
universal reason in which the heathen likewise participate;
1 See similar descriptions in Ep. ad Diogn. 5 ; Lactan. Instit. iii. 26, etc.
VOL. I. I
only that what has been participated in by them but in part
is here completely present (XoyiKov to okov) and a possession
for all, even for the least, so that through God’s power they
live according to it (Apol. ii. 10). What in relation to
the heathen is called Reason, and is shown to be in germ
in every man, is called in reference to the Jews Law, ο καινός
νόμος (Dial. c. Tr. 1 2 ; cf. Micah iv. 2 ); and at the same
time it is the old pre-Mosaic and universal law by which the
Mosaic law with its ceremonial determinations and concessions
to the sin and weakness of the people is abrogated as regards
the Christians, and is only still valid in its typical sense. It
was generally common for the Apologists of that time to
justify Christianity in this way, by showing that it was the
same as the original truth which preceded heathenism and lay
at its foundation ; that it was older than Homer, and even as
old as the world, as is argued by Tatian (c. 4 1) and Theophilus
(16 ff.); and consequently that it was to be regarded as the
truth of the universal law of nature postulated by the Stoics.
Christianity is thus represented on the one side as a revelation
of the divine Reason in and through Christ, and faith is the
recognition of this truth; it is acceptance of the doctrine of
Christ, ηνωσις, and therefore it is essentially intellectual.
Again, Christianity is represented on the other side as νόμος,
the new law, and at the same time as the resuscitation and
completion of the law of creation, which also lay at the basis
of the Old Testament law (Dial. c. 4 ) ; and it is therefore
fundamentally a morality of universal reason. The former side
appears in the Apologies of Justin ; the latter in his Dialogue.
The former truth has been corrupted in heathenism by the
demons, the powers of darkness (Apol. ii. 8 , 10). On account
of the sin of Israel the Law has become an external ceremonial
legality, and as such limited to Israel (Dial. c. 18, 27). Now
Christ has brought us the knowledge of this primeval and new
will of God as destined for all peoples (Dial. c. 1 1 ); and He
bestows renovation in baptism in order now to fulfil the
true will of God with free-will, and in order to attain by
the way of βύσέβεια καϊ δικαιοσύνη to the αφθαρσία and
συνουσία of God (Apol. i. 10). The relationship to God is
thus based by Justin Martyr on the ground of performance
and counter-performance. Consequently it is dependent on
the conduct of man ; and faith is thereby itself made a per
formance or act of obedience. But such a new mode of
conduct which exhibits righteousness in love to God and to
our neighbour (Dial. 93), is not attained without a preceding
forgiveness of former sins. The condition of this lies in the
μετάνοια to which Christ’s death leads us (and which is of
deciding significance for Justin, Apol. i. 61; Dial. 1 2 ,1 3 ,1 4 1 ),
and in faith which is trust in the assurance of the forgiveness
of sin in Christ’s death, and which has it in consequence: so
that in this sense faith does not appear as a doing of anything,
but as the religious basis of the new moral conduct of the
person in righteousness. Further, the renewal through the
regeneration by the Holy Spirit which is connected with
baptism,1 together with the new saving knowledge (φωτισμός)
and the deliverance from the state of bondage, which is the
consequence of the natural birth,2 forms the fundamental
presupposition and the living beginning of that new mode of
conduct. Hence it appears that Justin teaches an illuminating
and renewing grace. ' Christ, as the first-born of all creatures,
has become the beginning of the new race of men (the
Christians) who are born again of Him through water, faith,
and the cross (Dial. 138). In the view of Justin, knowledge
and renewal are regarded only as presuppositions of our own
doing; and the present relationship to God and the future are
based upon them, and thus the grace of God does not come to
its full significance. On this position moralism is not excluded
from the outset. The goal of the Hellenic philosophy was to
find the higher morality on the way of knowledge, and it is
this which seemed to find its truth in Justin’s view. The
revelation of God in Christ and divine grace are regarded as
a means for that end, instead of being viewed as the essence
and goal of Christianity. But it should not be forgotten that
Justin’s exposition is always determined by the apologetic
tendency; and in consequence it passes over to the antagonistic
sphere, and especially to the heathen mode of thinking and
conception, and attaches to them what is new, so that a pure
1 Dial. 29, 135 : ivo γίνη— τον μ ιν 1ξ αίματος και <rapxof, τον ix. πί/ττιως χα\
πνιύματος γιγιννημίνον.
* Αροΐ. ΐ. 61 : όπως μη ανάγκης τίχ να μη$ί άγνοιας μίνωμιν ά λ λ α *ροαιρί<ηως χαι
ϊπιστήμης αφ'νηως τ ι αμαρτιών ων προημάρτομιν τύχ ω μ ίν.
and full expression of the Christian element itself is not
reached.1 Moreover, the inner Christian state of life shows
itself here with such certainty and decidedness regarding the
specifically new element which had arisen and been bestowed
with it, and with such warmth of personal relationship to the
person of Christ and the new life in God attained therein (on
account of which the individual was conscious of constantly
living in the presence of death),12 that this real Christianity
went far beyond the limited lines of any such theory.3 But
if the Greek philosopher rejoiced at having found here the
higher truth of Plato and of the Stoics (Apol. ii. 13), and
then believed the new knowledge to be liker those philosophies
than it was, and so regarded it, we need not wonder at this. In
point of fact, the theology of Justin united two heterogeneous
elements, the specifically Christian element and the ancient
element, and they proceeded side by side without being inter
nally mediated with each other. And this continued to be the
case at bottom even with the succeeding Greek theologians.
2. Tatian.4— While Justin gives more prominence to the
affinity of Christianity and of Christian morality with the
Hellenic moral philosophy, the opposite position is repre
sented by Tatian in his λόγο? προς 'ΈΧληνας. In this work
Tatian took up the sharpest opposition to the Hellenic
paganism and to Greek culture generally, and in contrast
to it he extols the “ barbarian philosophy ” (i.e. Christianity)
in proud words. Here again regeneration is represented as
the basis of morality, and it is by means of it that the
disorder of the sensuous nature is corrected (c. 5). For as
we have incurred it by our freedom, we ought also to make
ourselves free from it again ; and thus attain to the right
freedom from the world, and by participation in God’s being
to immortality (c. 7). “ Die to the world, renouncing the
madness of its pursuits; live to God, renouncing thy old
nature through the knowledge of His being! W e are not
1 Cf. Stahlin, l.c. p. 5 f. Against M. v. Engelhardt’s one-sided application

of the apologies.
2 Apol. i. 3. 11 sqq.
3 Against the view of M. v. Engelhardt and the Ritschl School, see e.g. Har-
nack in the Theol. Lit. -Zeitung, 1878, Nr. 26.
* Otto, Corp. Apol. etc. T. vi. Ad. Harnack, Tatian’s Rede an die Griechen,
iibersetzt u. eingeleitet, Giessen 1881.
born for death ; we die from our own fau lt; freedom has
completely undone us. We have become slaves, we who
were free; on account of sin have we been sold. Nothing
evil has been created by God, it is we who have produced
what is bad ; and what has been thus produced we can again
renounce” (c. 1 2 ). It is only thus that we attain to im
mortality. For the soul is immortal only when it participates
in God, whose spirit it has forsaken in consequence of sin
(c. 13). “ Consequently we must now again strive after
what we have possessed and lost, namely, to unite the soul
with the Holy Spirit and to effectuate the God-willed union
with it ” (c. 15) ; and thus we become free from the seduction
and dominion of the demons. The philosophers do not 'help
us to attain this; they really know nothing and can do
nothing; for they do not know the true G o d ; but this
“ barbaric ” philosophy with its simple truth does know Him.
“ My soul was instructed by God, and I knew that those
Greek doctrines lead to perdition, whereas these other
doctrines take away the slavery under which we lie in
the world, deliver us from our many lords and thousand
tyrants: and yet they do not give us goods which we might
not have already received, but rather those which we had
indeed received but could not retain in consequence of error ”
(c. 29). For Christianity is the renewal of what originally
existed, and is as old as the world (c. 2 0 ).1 The antagonism
which is here delineated was afterwards carried out further
by Tatian ; and in this way he reached a dualistic encratistic
asceticism which rejected marriage and the enjoyment of
wine and flesh. And thus mixing and confusing the ethical
with the physical, he lost himself in Gnostic paths.
3. W e find thoughts akin to those of Justin in the other
apologists. Athenagoras, who perhaps belonged to Athens,
wrote his 7τρβσβζία rrepl Χ ριστιανών (supplicatio pro
christianis) in 177 a .d .2 He also describes the sublimity
of the Christian morality as a morality of love even towards
enemies (c. 1 1 ), of renunciation in prospect of the future
(c. 12), and of purity even in thought. It sees relatives
in others (c. 32), and it recognises marriage only as sub
servient to its end, the production of children, or entirely
1 So Theophilus, 16 ff. 2 Otto, Corp. Apol., Jen. 1857, vol. vii.
abstains from it from the higher estimation put on celibacy,
and with a view to more inward fellowship with God (c. 33).
He regards second marriage as ευπρεπής μοιχεία, and abhors
the getting rid of or exposure of children. Theophilus wrote
his treatise addressed to Autolycus in 180 A.D. in three
books (Ad Autol. L. iii.).1 It is only at the close that he
comes to speak of the morality of Christianity, and he
describes it in agreement with the divine moral law in the
Old Testament as a morality of justice, chastity, and love
even towards strangers (iii. 1 0 -1 4 ).— The Christian earnest
ness of sanctification in contrast to heathen ways here shows
an ascetic tendency, especially in reference to the sexual life.
This is still more distinctly seen in other writings, such as in
the treatise entitled De Resurrectione (e.g. c. 3), which has
been ascribed to Justin, and which certainly belongs to the
second century. Nor need we be astonished if we thus
early see this mode of thinking, which was foreign to the
original Christianity, developing itself in the Church.
§ 31. The Ethics o f the Alexandrian Theology.
1. Clement o f Alexandria.
The alliance which Christian theology as then developing

itself entered into with the Hellenic philosophy, especially in
Alexandria, realized its full consequences in the treatment of
ethics as well as in other departments of theology. The
endeavour to exhibit Christian Ethics as the truth of
previous Ethics was justified ; and it led to a combination
of the two which not merely occasioned a treatment of
Christian Ethics according to the formal standard of philo
sophical Ethics, but also materially influenced Christian
Ethics, so that there resulted a still unmediated double
current of ancient philosophical conceptions and those con
ceptions that were genuinely Christian. Thus it happened
that in spite of the decidedly Christian basis of the move
ment, its attachment to the ancient intellectualism and its
1 Otto, Corp. Apol. vol. viii.
development of the beginnings made by Justin, led to the
highest good being regarded as γνωσις (θεωρία, επόπτεια).
This Gnosis has its beginning in this world, and it finds its
completion in the άνάπαυσις and αφθαρσία of the other
world, so that in the one - sided apprehension of God as
an object of knowledge neither the personal moral relation
ship to God nor the corresponding active relationship to the
world came to full recognition; but the enthusiasm of know
ledge went the way of contemplation and of asceticism,
which put the striving after sinlessness in the place of
justification, and then in the further development sought
to attain this on the way of desensualization. In Clemens
Alexandrinus, the Stoic morality resting upon the meta
physics of Plato gave something more than a vesture to his
Christian thoughts, while in Origen the specifically Christian
element comes out more decidedly, yet not without the
influence of the Neo-Platonic way of thinking.
Clement of Alexandria 1 ( t c. 220 a .d .) has embodied a

large amount of ethical material in his three works: the λόγο?
προτρεπτικός προς 'Έλληνας, the τταίδαγωγό? (three books),
and the στρωματεϊς (seven books), as well as in his beautiful
monograph τις 6 σωξόμενος πλούσιος. These three works
represent three succeeding stages which are to lead up from
the world to God Himself. From the unreal and impure
heathen myths, the Exhortation (λόγο? προτρεπτικός) calls
the reader to the sacred tones of the heavenly truth and its
eternal melody, which the Logos of God sounds forth in the
harmony of the universe as well as plays upon the human
1 Opp. ed. Potter, Oxon. 1715. Miinscher, in Henke’s Magazin fur Religions-
philosophie, Bd. 6, Helmst. 1796, p. 106 ff. Darstellung der moral. Ideen
des Cl. Alex. u. des Tertull. Ein Beitrag zur Gesch. der christl. Sittenlehre.
Berg, Hiss, de Cl. AI. eiusque morali doctrina, Yiteb. 1798. H. Reuter,
Clem. Al. theol. mor. capita selecta, Yratisl. 1853. Merk, Cl. A l. in s.
Abhangigkeit v. d. griech. Philos., Lpz. 1879. Against his overstrained view ;
Winter, Zur Ethik des Cl. u. Alex., in Ztschr. fur kirchl. Wissensch. 1880,
p. 130 ff. Die Lehre des Al. Cl. von den Quellen der sittl. Erkenntniss,
in Luthardt’s Jubil. schr., Lpz. 1881, pp. 99-137. Die Ethik des Cl. v. Alex.,
Lpz. 1882. Jacobi in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 ii. 26 ff. Waldstein, Der Einflussdes
Stoicism, auf die alteste christl. Lehrbildung, Stud. u. Krit. 1880, 4, p. 645 f.
soul itself; for the heavenly Logos, that instrument of God
Himself, is friendly to man. “ The Lord has compassion, He
trains, incites, warns, saves, preserves; and as the trans
cendent reward of those who follow Him as disciples, He
promises us the kingdom of heaven ” (c. 1). Starting thus
from the idea of the Logos, Clement connects the thought of
salvation with the thought of the world. For the former is
contained in the latter. As the Word was in the beginning
we were willed in it ,1 so that Christianity is thus only what
was originally. For the Logos, who is the Creator, has now
appeared as a teacher to lead us to eternal life, and so to save
us. Christianity is therefore the goal of the previous develop
ment, because the original and the Christian morality are
properly from the outset “ inscribed on the heart itself ”
(c. 10). In the Exhortation this position is negatively
unfolded and exhibited in detail. W e have here a
universalizing in a cosmical sense of the truth of salva
tion, and this is an Alexandrian thought belonging to Philo
and others. The universalism of the revelation of salvation
and of Christianity, is here connected with the past of the
constitution of creation instead of being connected as in
Scripture with its destination, and referred to the future.
This thought is proper to the whole Greek theology of that
time. It has indeed its points of connection in the Pauline
expressions contained in the Epistles to the Ephesians and
Colossians, which connect the salvation of Christ with His posi
tion in the world ; but here it has become falsely cosmical
through the influence of the natural universalism of the Stoics.
Those who are thus led to the Christian truth are then
received and taken in hand by the Paedagogus or “ Teacher ”
in order to lead them through the training of the Church to
the highest stage. For as history generally is an education
or training administered by the Logos leading to the com
plete revelation of the Logos, here the Hellenic philosophy
finds its place as well as the Old Testament law which leads
us through fear to the highest legislation 12 and grace in Christ,
1 προ τη! του κοσμου καταβολή! ημΰί' ουτω it?» “ίσιαSat, ιν αυτΣ πρότιρον
γιγίννϊΐμίνοι τΣ Θιλ, χ,τ.λ.
2 Paedag. i. 3 : “ As we accept the Logos as law, we would learn to know His
laws and commandments as the shortest and nearest way tQ heaven. They are
in order that from being slaves we may become by regenera
tion free sons of God in Christ.1 Now the Church is the
educational institution which has to bring individuals to the
goal of perfection. The moral training as the Pccdagogus
expounds it, is the way to the higher stage of the gnostic
which is represented in the Stromata. The Pccdagogus thus
becomes an exposition of the Christian morality, and, accord
ing to the “ Two Ways,” it is a first exhibition of it. It is
not a scientific, but a practical representation of Christian
Ethics,2 in the form of lectures to the catechumens
relating to the regulation of the external life, down to
the externalities of diet, social intercourse, sleep, conjugal
fellowship, ornaments, etc. A ll this is expounded as under
the training of the Logos according to the ancient moral
standards of proportion and reason (ii. 8 , iii. 9), the σώφρων
(ii. 7), the rational mean (ii. 1 ), and beautiful harmony
(i. 13, ii. 3 ) ; and it concludes with the description of a
typical Christian as he should exhibit himself in his conduct.8
For, virtue is the harmony that is effectuated by reason:
sin is the disorder of reason (i. 13). This exhibition of
Christian morality as the ευταξία of life (iii. 12, p. 303)
in outward practice, is a dealing with morals according to
the analogy of the ancient popular philosophical expositions,
in which morality is frequently merged in practice, and
ethics often becomes a doctrine of mere propriety in conduct.
But here there is the difference that all this rests upon
baptism and faith (i. 6 ), in which the perfection of the
future is already anticipated, and that the regulation of the
external life is here regarded as destined to be only the way
to the higher and inward life.
In order to give an outline of these Exhortations we may
here quote some of them from the Second and Third Books.
And first, we take some of those that relate to eating and to
banquets. If other men live in order to eat, then, says the
laws of love and not of fear.” i. 7 : “ Fear is transformed into love.” The
Teacher says on one occasion : Fear God the Lord (Deut. vi. 2 ) ; and He again
exhorts us to “ love the Lord thy God ” (Matt. xxii. 37).
1 Paed. i. 6. Quis dives, c. 9.
2 I. 1 : πραχτιχόί, ου μιΟοδιχοί ο παιδαγωγοί.
3 A sort of contrast to the Aristotelian ideal of the μιγαλό-ψυχοι, Nicom.
Eth. iv. 3.
Paedagogus to us, eat in order to live. W e ought to be satisfied
with what is necessary, and not to seek sensual delectation; but
to enjoy simple and few dishes as more compatible with spiritual
activity, while immoderate and dainty enjoyment is hurtful to
the body and hinders the soul from aspiring after what is
heavenly. Clement describes that life of enjoyment in
forcible terms. He contrasts with it the love-feast as a Uriaatg
Χογιχ,η. " The enjoyments of the common feast possess a cer
tain stimulus for Christian lo v e ; they are a reminder of the
eternal joys.” The Christians in particular are not to take part
in the so-called death-feasts, for that is a fellowship of demons.
The other invitations cannot be always declined; and then
what is served has to be eaten, but with inward indifference
towards luxury in dishes. “ It is necessary for one to help him
self to what is served with propriety; the hand, chin, and
napkin must be kept clean; the face is not to he distorted with
grimaces; and in the course of the meal, one must not behave
unseemly.” One ought not to speak while masticating, nor eat
and drink at the same time. W e need not refrain from certain
dishes. “ For it is not that which enters into the mouth that
defileth a man.” Only it is necessary to avoid extremes; the
middle way is the best. In like manner, Clement, in chap, ii.,
gives precepts with regard to drinking. The young should
avoid wine, for they are hot enough without i t ; “ the measure of
youth foams otherwise over the brim of shamefulness.” But
others have also to observe moderation. " A t evening, wine
may be drunk at meal-time, if we have to take no further part
in the readings, which require greater sobriety.” “ In the old, as
a rule, there are no longer violently raging desires which would
lead us to fear shipwreck from drunkenness; and standing firm
upon the anchors of reason and time, they more easily weather
the storms which rise up from the wine-cup.” They may
also make cheerful jests at table, yet there is for them too a limit
in drinking, etc. “ It is therefore proper to use wine partly as a
medicine only for the sake of health, and also partly for pro
moting cheerfulness and recreation.” Clement then goes some
what specially into the consequences of excessive enjoyment
of undiluted w ine; although, on the other hand, he blames “ the
so-called Encratites.”— In chap. iii. he treats in detail of luxury
in household furnishings. “ In things whose proper measure is
the need of them, there should be no luxury.” “ Generally
food, clothing, furniture, in short, everything in the house, ought
to be in harmony with the law of the Christian life according
to the particular person, age, calling, and time. For the
servant of the one God, it is becoming that even his property
and furniture bear the stamp of the unique moral life.” “ The
best riches is poverty of desires; and the genuine pride is that
which does not magnify itself by riches, but despises them”
Chap. iv. treats of entertainments at meals. When Clement
comes here to speak of music and song, he shows the fine feel
ing regarding them which the ancient world possessed; and
which we find, for example, in Aristotle. “ The broken strains
and wailing measures of the Carian muse corrupt the morals
like so many poisonous drinks, since they incite by their luxu
rious and unwholesome music to a passion for such play.”
“ Man is in truth an instrument of peace.” “ If thou wilt love
the Lord thy God, and also thy neighbour, thou must first enter
into communication with God by thanksgiving and psalm
singing, and then with thy neighbour by becoming conversa
tion.”— Chap. v. treats of laughing. “ Men who follow the
inclination to laughing, or rather to the ridiculous, must be
banished out of our republic. For as all words flow from the
disposition and character, it is not possible to make ridiculous
speeches which do not spring from a ridiculous character.”
“ One may make witty remarks but not jests. Besides, one
should moderate himself even in laughing.”— In chap. vi. he
continues thus: “ We must not only keep ourselves from unbe
coming words, but we ought also to stop the mouth of those
who utter such by a severe look.”— Chap. vii. treats of •propriety
at meals and in society. “ If the purpose of drinking together is
the testifying of friendship, and if food and drink are to be
accompanied with love, why then should we not rationally
associate with each other and speak lovingly with each ? ” One
should recline or sit becomingly; and at meals we should help
ourselves slowly and not greedily. “ It shows the man of
culture to rise before others, and to retire gracefully from the
meal.” “ Untimeous laughter is to be avoided, in the same way
as untimeous tears.” The aged ought to lead the conversation
at a meal, and the young should only timidly take part in it.
“ Speak, if it must be, only when you have been twice asked;
and comprise your speech in few words.” “ Loud shouting
borders on folly.” “ Our goal is tranquillity (αταραξία) ; and
this is expressed in the words: f Peace be unto thee! * Do not
answer before you hear. There is something womanish in the
agitated voice. The wise man observes moderation even in his
voice.” “ Let the look be earnest; let the turning of the neck
and every motion be composed, and so even with gestures with
the hands in speaking. Generally composure, rest, meekness,
and peace are characteristic of the Christian.”— Chap. viii. deals
with the use o f ointments and garlands; and it shows how well
versed Clement was in these matters with their excessive luxury.
“ Our men ought to smell rather of virtue than of ointments;
but let the woman exhale the fragrance of Christ.” Moreover,
the women should seek for some of those perfumes which do not
give headache to men. Perfumes may be used so far as they
strengthen the nerves, and therefore as a medicine. Clement
will also allow no use of garlands at noisy carouses.— “ Garlands
are therefore forbidden to the pupils of the Logos; ” “ Not so
much merely because the garland is the sign of noisy revellings,
but because it is consecrated to the gods.”— Chap. ix. treats of
sleep. Trouble is not to be taken about expensive couches, etc.:
“ he who possesses them is not forbidden to use them, but eager
ness for them is to be restrained.” “ A sleeping man, like a dead
man, is useful for nothing; and therefore we ought frequently
to rise from our couch at night and to praise God. Blessed are
they who watch for G od; they make themselves like the angels
whom we call ‘ watchers.’ ” — In chap. x. Clement speaks of the
'begetting of children. “ Our life is full of honourable actions;
let a man either marry or entirely abstain from marriage.”
“ To have intercourse for any other end than the begetting of
children is a wrong against nature.” “ One should not be shame
less even at night, because it is dark; modesty should burn
like a lamp in the heart.” This leads Clement to speak of
modest behaviour, especially in the case of women, in their
appearance and clothing. “ Bodily beauty is not to be a prey
for men to hunt after.” He then continues such admonitions
in reference to the shoes (chap, xi.), and to ornaments of gold
and precious stones (chap. xii.). In the Third Book he reviews
the arts of the toilet (chap, ii.) and dandies (chap, iii.); and then
speaks about society (chap, iv.), baths (chaps, v.-ix.), and the
visiting of gymnasiums (chap, x.), and then concludes with a
sketch of the right mode of conducting life (chaps, xi., xii.). “ W e
must not appear to be free, but be free ; as the pupils of God we
are also His adoptive children. Hence we ought to assume in
our bearing, movements, walking and dress, in short, in the
whole of our life, a manner which becomes the perfectly free man.
Further, men should not wear the ring on other fingers, but put
it on the little finger, and on its lowest section; for the hand is
thus fitted for the labour for which we use it.” “ As a seal we
should use a dove, or a fish, or a ship with swollen sails, or even
a line or an anchor. I f one is a fisherman, the seal should
suggest the apostles, or the children drawn out of the water of
baptism. But we should not have idols engraved.” “ In regard
to the hair, it is to be worn in the following w ay: Let the head
of men be cut short, unless one has woolly hair. The chin
is to be covered with hair. Curled hair should not hang down
too long from the head after the manner of the locks of women ;
for men the beard is enough.” “ For women it suffices to comb
the hair softly, and to fasten it with a simple pin on the back
of the neck.” “ Locks of hair after the manner of public
women, and plaited tresses hanging down, make the person
ugly.” “ The wearing of false hair is entirely to be rejected;
to adorn the head with the hair of others and to put on dead
wigs is truly godless; for on whom does the priest lay his
hand ? Whom does he bless ? Not the ornamented women,
but the false hair.” “ There is something very beautiful about
a diligent housewife who clothes herself and her husband in
garments made by herself.” “ Let the whole appearance, look,
walk, and voice, be altogether well ordered, not as with some,
who have something theatrical about them, and take on tripping
movements as in dancing.” “ Away, moreover, with all that is
showy in walking ! Let the step be earnest and slow, yet not
hesitating. Men should not strut about on the road and stare
with craning neck at the passers-by.” “ Let plays and recita
tions, with their buffoonery and chatter, be forbidden.” “ Let
husband and wife go into the church respectably dressed, and
not with an affected walk, and in silence, with genuine love of
their neighbours in their heart, and with a modest body and
modest sense.” The kiss of peace is not to be abused (chap. xii.).
“ The best mode of life is orderliness ” (ευταξία). “ The divine
Logos as a teacher leads human weakness from the sensuous
to the spiritual.” This is the key of what frequently recurs
in the matter of this work. It is the ancient ideal of culture
in a Christian realization.
The Stromata1 treat the ethical questions more in principle

and on the stage of the gnostic. The intellectual factor had
won the predominance in the Greek philosophy, as we see by
Plato’s επιστήμη του Θεού and his ομοίωσή τω Θεω, by the
higher dignity assigned to the dianoetic virtues over the
ethical in Aristotle, and by the ideal of the wise man of the
Stoics. Following this view, Clement indicates the ideal of
the Christian to be the 'γνωστικός who stands higher than
the π ιστικ ός; and his ideal ηνωσις is the intuition of God
and His absolute Reason as it has revealed itself in the
1 The complete title of this work is given by Eusebius (Η. E. vi. 13. 1) as
follows : των χ,α,τα, την ίλ η ίη φιλοσοφίαν γνωστικά"tv υπομνημάτων σ τρω μ α τά ς. Cf.
Strom, i. 29. 182, iii. 18. 110, v. 14. 142, vi. 1. 1. The term στρωματά
{Stromata or Miscellanies) originally signifies pieces of tapestry woven in divers
colours, and is here applied, according to the manner of the time, to indicate a
miscellaneous production. Plutarch had given the same title to one of his
popular mixed works. Cf. Overbeck, Anfange der patrist. Liter., Histor. Ztschr.
v. Sybel, 1882, p. 460.
Logos. The ideal of the ομοίωσή τώ Θ εώ 1 is made possible
by the revelation of the Logos, and is attained by the aid of
grace; and it consists essentially in the intuition of God, an
intuition which is inseparable from love .12 Now the future
blessedness consists in the blessed beholding of God and of
divine things in heaven : in γνώο'ΐς, h τόπτεια, θεωρία, which is
the highest goal and therefore the highest good.8 But by the
π ίσ τη γνωστική we already behold the future. And in this
knowledge of God the gnostic is a God upon earth ; 4* for the
ultimate goal is deification, the Θεός γίνεσθαι, θεοποιεΐσθαι.6
This glorification of gnosis goes the length of the paradox,
that if there were to be a choice between knowledge of God
and eternal blessedness (σωτηρία αιώνιος), the Gnostic would
decide for the former.6 This stands entirely upon the line
of the ancient notion and attitude of mind, the consequence of
which is the elevation of the contemplative life above the
active.7 W ith this Platonic element, however, is combined
the Stoical element in the idealization of the απάθεια. For
that elevation into the intuition of the divine withdraws the
individual from the sphere of the sensible and the changes of
its πάθη. The proper έξις (halitus) of the gnostic is thus
,
the απάθεια as God Himself is απαθής,8 so that he does not
need fortitudo and temperantia; for no misfortune or injury
makes an alteration in him.9 This Stoical path leads also to
the Stoical distinction of the double stage; the καθήκον
officium medium (the stage of πίστις), and of the κατόρθωμα
perfectum (the stage of γνώσις).10* For the same work is dif
ferent according to the principle that inwardly determines it.11
1 IV . 6 p. 576 sq., 22 p. 626; vi. 9 p. 776, 14 p. 798.

a p a a y a 6 'o v η y v u 9 i i y V I . 12 p. 798.
2 τελ ίιό τα το ν μ ί γ ι τ τ ο ν apa η y v u 9 is το υ
θίβ«, vii. 7 p. 859. 3 I. 19 p. 370; v. 14 p. 732 ; vi. 14 p. 794.

4 IV . 23 p. 623 ; vii. 16 p. 95 : *» a a p x i ο π ρ ιν ο χ ώ ν B t o s .
β V I. 22 pp. 499-502 ; v. 14 p. 705.
6 Strom, iv. 22 p. 1 3 6 : it youv τις xa.6 ' υ*όθΐ9ΐν οτροόίιη r£ yv&>9Tixy, οτότιρον
\Xt9 6 a1 βούλοιτο την yvufftv του θιου η την 9ωτηρίαν την αιώνιον ίΐη Si ταυτα χιχωρΐ9μί*α
•ταντοξ μάλλον iv ταυτοτητι οντα, e J S i καθ' οτιουν ΰιττάτας ίλοιτ αν την γνω9ιν του βίου.
7 Cf. the author’s A ntike E thik, p. 49. A ristotle puts the dianoetic virtues
above the ethical virtues ; see A ntike E thik, p. 66.
8 V I. 9 p . 775 sq q .; iv. 3. 1 2 ; iv. 22. 139. 141 ; iv. 24. 149, etc.
9 V I . 9. 76 ; vii. 3. 188. 10 IV . 26. 166 ; vi. 13. 111.
11 τ ο αυτό tp y o v διάφορον * 9 % fi, η S/ ά φ ό β ο ν γ ίν ό μ ίν ο ν , η S / α γ ά τ η ί T iX t9 0 iv η ή τ ο ι S/ ά
τ ΐ 9 τ ΐ ω ; η χ α ) γ ν ω τ τ ι χ ώ ς ίν ιρ γ ο υ μ ιν ο ν .
In this there is already manifested the difference between
Clement’s mode of thinking and that of the ancient philoso
phers. For although it seems to be completely identical with
theirs, it is nevertheless specifically different in root and
effect, and has another soul. For what is only an abstract
ideal with the Stoics, is regarded by him as a reality which
has been made possible by the manifestation of the Logos in
Jesus Christ; and the sacred triad of faith, love, and hope
form the real ground of that gnosis and its goal of perfection.1
These, however, are realities springing from the principles of
freedom and grace. Thereby a new soul is also put into
this new life of knowledge; and this soul consists of love to
God and Christ and our neighbour, with all its virfues. For
what we have here is not a merely theoretical, but a life-
renewing moral knowledge ; for the knowledge of God is only
the highest, because it is a moral energy.12* Accordingly
7 νωσις is άρχη και Βημιουργος ττάσης πράξςως λογικής
(vi. 8 . 69). Hence Clement can also combine with the
gnosis the requirement of active life, of εύττοιΐα and its
exercise in the concrete relations of life .8 For as the cognition
is one on the way of moral acting, it is also accompanied by
the epyov as by its shadow.4 W ith this Clement gains a
positive estimation of the relationships of the earthly life.
This appears in his judgments on marriage 5*and fasting,® and
in his repudiation of the merely negative ethic which
ascetically misestimates the material life. It lay in the
character of the time that he should call martyrdom an
άττοκάθαρσις αμαρτιών μβτά Βόξης.7
This positive relation to real life is expounded in a
special relation in the very beautiful treatise τις 6 σωζόμβνος
•πλούσιος; This work, under reference to Matt. xix. 21—24,
lays down a purely evangelical judgment on the right atti-
1 Strom. IV. 7. 54 : πρόκειται 3s ro7s US τελείωσιν σπεύδουσιν h γνωσι$ ή λογική, ns

θεμέλιος h αγία τριά$ πίστις, αγάπη, ϊλπΐς.
2 ταύτίι σώζεται το άναπόβλητον rns apirns' ο 3ε εγνωχω$ τον θεόν οtrios vca) ενσεβη$'
povos α,ρα ο γνωστική ιυσιβήε ήμίν είναι Vibuxrai, yii. 7. 47.
* που γνωστικού— τελείωσή ή δικαιοσύνη us ενίργειαν εύποιια$ προβαίνει, ίν. 6 ρ. 581,
16 ρ. 607 ; vii. 14 ρ. 797, etc. 4 σκιά, vii. 13 ρ. 883, etc.
5 I I . 23 ; iii. 1. 12 ; vii. 12. Against Neander’s statement, that “ Clement is
not free from a certain overestimate o f celibacy. ”
β V I. 12 p. 791. 7 i y . 9. Cf. W in ter on this (p. 226 f.).
tude of the Christian to earthly possession. It contains a
series of most excellent and fruitful thoughts,1 and in this con
nection it repeatedly speaks of the Christian virtues. Love,
faith, hope (in this order) are the foremost virtues (c. 3) and
“ the indissoluble bonds of salvation” (c. 2 9 ); and to them
are attached the following fou r: knowledge, meekness, mercy,
chastity (c. 3, c. 18: faith, hope, love ; brotherly love, wisdom,
meekness, humilty, truth,— whose reward is salvation).
Thus the two currents meet here, still moving side by side
without having yet completed an internal union. The new
life in God, which came into the world with Jesus Christ,
which has attained reality in the Christian in faith, love, and
hope, and which looks to the future, is here presented along
with the ideals of the ancient philosophical culture with its
material of thought, and these ideals are to find their truth
and reality in the Christian. It may be still asked, what is
the specific nature of Clement’s thought and spiritual life ?
The view has been lately widely spread, that Clement’s
conception of the world was only formally a Christian one in
that it put everything under the point of view of the union
that is to be attained by man through Christ the Logos, but
that it was materially dependent on the Greek philosophy,
being dependent primarily on the philosophy of the Stoics, in
the second line on that of Plato, and influenced in many
points by Philo .12 This has been maintained on the ground
that Clement’s doctrine makes all virtue a mode of knowledge,
apprehends virtue as a striving after apathy, and describes
God and the Logos Himself as pure apathy. But the relation
in question is in reality to be inverted.3
§ 3 2 . The Ethics of the Alexandrian Philosophy.
2. Origen.
In Origen (t 2 5 4 ) 4 the consciousness of the difference

between the ancient and the Christian system of morality is
1 E.g. c. 11, 12, 14. 2 Cf. Merk’s closing judgment.

8 Cf. Overbeck against Merk, and his later treatment of the question generally
in Schlirer’s Theol. Lit.-Zeitung, 1879, Nr. 20, p. 475 if.
4 Gregorius Thaumaturgus, Panegyrica oratio in Originem (de la Rue, T. iv.),
stronger than in Clement. His “ Logos ” is conceived in a
much more personal and ethical way, and is put into closer
connection with Jesus; and it is thereby much more sharply
distinguished from the Logos of Plato and the Stoics than
was the case with Clement. This leads to Ethics being
religiously determined and conditioned in quite another way
than was possible in the extra-Christian systems with their
autonomy. Therein lay also really the roots of the power
of Christian Ethics, as Origen himself showed in his personality
and life. According to the apologetic tendency of his treatise
against Celsus, he gives emphatic prominence to the superi
ority of the moral reality in the Christians compared with
the heathen ; 1 and he puts the Christian doctrine of morals
with its activity and universality in the same relation to the
ancient pagan doctrines.2 And although he connects the
Christian ethic with the ancient ethics, yet he holds that it
is only in the former that the cardinal virtues are realized.8
His ethical doctrines are to be gathered from his treatise
against Celsus, his Homilies, and his dogmatic work, Tlepl
άρχων (of which the Third Book treats of anthropology), his
Tlepl εύγΐ}? (de oratione), and his Els μαρτύρων προτρεπτικός
\6yo? ('exhortatio ad martyrium). Of these writings the
treatise on prayer deserves to be specially considered.
After giving an explanation of prayer in general in Book I.,
he gives in Book II. an explanation of the Lord’s Prayer,
where, in dealing with the Fifth Petition (c. 28), the
various classes of duties are briefly described. They are— 1.
duties to brethren (in the religious and bodily sense), to
fellow-citizens, to men generally, and specially to strangers
and to the o ld ; 2 . duties to ourselves, to the body and the
soul; 3. duties to God in the maintenance of the right mood
of the soul, to Christ who has redeemed us, to the Holy
Spirit whom we are not to grieve, and to our particular
angels. Thereafter the special duties of certain individuals
describes Origen specially as a teacher of Ethics. Redepenning, 2 Bde., Bonn
1841, 46 (esp. ii. 32 f.). Moller, Herzog, P. R .-E .2 xi. 92 if. Bestmann, Orig. u.
Plotinos, Ztschr. f. kirchl. Wissensch. 1883, 4. Mehlhom, Orig. L. v. d.
I Freiheit, Ztschr. f. histor. Theol. i. 2.
1 C. Cels. i. 5, 26, 31, 46, iii. 29.
II 2 C. Cels. i. 8, iii. 29, iv. 5.
3 Y . 28, 34, ii. 79.
YOL. I. K
are treated, including those of the widow, the deacon, the
presbyter, the bishop, and of husband and wife towards one
another.
The following extracts from this work may here find a place.
In Book I., after the introductory observations (c. 6 ), Origen
repels the arguments commonly adduced against prayer from
the omniscience or predestination of God. God also foreknows,
he says, how we will conduct ourselves in virtue of our free
self-determination, so that our prayer is therefore likewise
taken already into account by God. Regarding the right kind
of prayer, he proceeds as follows: “ One should not use many
words, nor desire trivial things, nor pray for what is earthly.”
“ On the one hand, without purification from sin one should
not entertain the idea that prayer will find acceptance; and, on
the other hand, he who prays can obtain no forgiveness of sin
unless he forgives from the heart his brother who has injured
him and who prays for forgiveness ” (c. 8 ). “ He who prays
ought to raise pure hands (1 Tim. ii. 8 ), in this respect that he
forgives all who have done him a wrong ” (c. 9). “ The Son of
God is the high priest for our offerings and the advocate with
the Father; He prays with those who pray, and supplicates
with those who supplicate ” (c. 10). “ The angel who is
assigned to every one, even to the little ones, in the Church,
and who ‘ always beholds the face of the heavenly Father’ and
contemplates the Godhead of our Creator, prays with us and
helps us according to his power to that for which we ask ”
(c. 11). “ But pray without ceasing; he who combines prayer
with his dutiful labours, and appropriate employments with
his prayer, will find that in such circumstances even the works
of virtue or the fulfilment of the commandments are of avail
as prayer. For we can only consider the expression : Pray
without ceasing ! as capable of being fulfilled, if we regard the
whole life of the Christian as a great uninterrupted prayer.
And what is commonly called ‘ prayer' (which ought to be
offered at least thrice a day) forms a part of this prayer”
(c. 12). “ How much does not every one of us know to tell of
when, full of thanks, he remembers the benefits bestowed upon
him and will praise God for them ! In fact, souls that were a
long time unfruitful and felt the powerlessness of their reason
and the unfruitfulness of their understanding, have conceived of
the* Holy Ghost in consequence of their constant prayer, and
have brought forth saving words full of the doctrines of truth.
And how many enemies have thus been beaten, often when
many thousands of the hostile powers made war against us and
wished to make us fall away from the holy faith!” (c. 13).
“ We are to pray for what is heavenly, and the earthly will
then be added unto us. Prayer is fourfold: petition, adoration
with ascription of praise, intercession, and thanksgiving.
Petition, intercession, and thanksgiving may also be addressed
to the saints, as when we have before us a Paul or a Peter, so
that they help us and make us worthy to participate in the
authority bestowed upon them to forgive sins; and they may
be addressed unreservedly to Christ ” (c. 14). But adoration
(προσευχή) is only to be addressed to God, and not even to
Christ. For Christ has taught us to pray to the Father, and
has Himself prayed to Him ; and thus we likewise give adora
tion “ solely to God, the Father of the universe, yet not without
the High Priest,” and therefore “ through Jesus Christ,” “ by
means of the High Priest and Intercessor ” (c. 15). “ They
commit a sin of ignorance who in their great simplicity without
examination and inquiry pray to the Son ” “ Every one who
asks for earthly and trivial things from God, gives no heed to
His commandment to ask God for heavenly and great things ”
(c. 16). “ If we possess the spiritual gifts, and if we are
instructed by God that we are wholly to attain the true goods,
we shall not be anxious about trivial shadowy things ” (c. 17).
The second part of this treatise (Book II.) contains the exposi
tion of the Lord’s Prayer, after an explanation of the intro
ductory words of Jesus in Matthew about ostentation and
using many words. Origen’s observations on the Fourth
Petition may be referred to, in which that Petition is explained
as not relating to the bread of the body, for (c. 2 7 ): “ How
should He who commanded us to ask for what is heavenly and
great, give the injunction to ask the Father for what is earthly
and petty ? ” Reference is made to John, chap. vi. “ The bread
which is indicated by the term επιούσιος is that which is wholly
correspondent to the spiritual nature, and is even related to the
substance (ο υ σ ία ), which lends to the soul at once health, well
being, and power, and communicates its own imperishableness,
— for the word of God is imperishable to him who eats of it.”
As regards the external form (c. 31), we ought to pray kneeling
before God with outstretched arms and upturned eyes, and
making confession of our own sin. I f Paul could be present
with his spirit in Corinth, much more will “ the departed saints
come in the spirit to the assemblies of the Church.” It is
most fitting to pray in the direction of the east, “ as a sign that
the soul is looking towards the rise of the true light ” (c. 32).
Prayer, however, should have the following four elements.
“ In the beginning and introduction of the prayer we should
praise God according to our power through Christ, who is thus
praised along with God, and in the Holy Spirit, who is thus
glorified along with God. To this every one* should attach
thanksgivings, both general, for the benefits bestowed on all
men, and particular, for those specially received from God.
After the thanksgiving I consider that we should in the pain
of repentance for our own sins accuse ourselves before God,
and supplicate, first, for healing and deliverance from the pro
pensity to sin, and, secondly, for forgiveness of previous tres
passes ” [this order is characteristic]. “ After the confession of
guilt I consider we ought, in the fourth place, to add the
petition for great and heavenly things, particular as well as
universal, praying also for one's relatives and friends; and
after all this the prayer is to be closed with a doxology to God
through Christ in the Holy Spirit ” (c. 33).
From the treatise on Martyrdom we quote a passage which
in a characteristic way sets forth the Christian virtue of piety
in contrast to the ancient virtues. “ Those who have to go
through conflicts may see how life is full of struggles for many
virtues. It will, in fact, appear that even many who did not
belong to God have struggled for continence; that many have
died heroically in order to maintain their fidelity to the
sovereign of the State; that those who are skilled in scientific
inquiries are diligent in prudence; and that those have conse
crated themselves to justice who have striven to live justly.
And, in fact, the carnal sense on the one hand, and most
external things on the other, are engaged in conflict against
every virtue ; but it is only the elect race that struggles lor piety
or religion, while other men do not even put on the appearance
of their being ready to die for religion, and to prefer a pious
death to a godless life ” (c. 5). For the benefits which we
receive from God there is “ no other equivalent which could
be given to God by a well-disposed man but the death of the
martyr ” (c. 28).
Origen agrees with Clement in laying emphasis on know-
ledge1 as well as on freedom? But he is distinguished from
Clement by the smaller extent of the philosophical elements
of his thought and a more decidedly Christian method in his
exposition, as well as by a stronger representation of the
ascetic clement. He complains about the weakening of the
moral energy in the Christendom of his time, which led him
to distinguish between perfect and imperfect Christians. The
former get the whole reward of victory, the latter only a
part of it. This ideal was connected with the accentuation
1 C. Cels. iii. 45 : fiovXtrai ημάς *7v«/ νοφουί ό λόγος.
2 De Princip. i. 5. 8, iii. 1 . 2 ; De Orat. vi. 16-20.
of almsgiving, praying, and fasting. To these also virginity
was added, and indeed with peculiar emphasis, as an expression
for elevation above the sensuous existence. But however
intelligible this is from the relations of the time and the
historical development, yet it was rooted in a false spiritualism
or dualism that mistook the significance of the earthly life,
which was not again rightly recognised till the Beformation.
Origen emphatically represents this ideal. This is shown,
for example, when, as we have seen, he rejects prayer for
earthly things, and therefore interprets the Fourth Petition
of the Lord's Prayer as applying to the eucharist.1 He thus
likewise judges of marriage more ascetically than Clement;
he holds military service and public offices as unsuitable for
the Christian; and he represents the higher morality of the
consilia evangelica in contrast to the prmcepta more definitely
than Clement.2 Origen expounds the history of the rich
youth quite otherwise than Clement does.3 And while
Clement represents as a victor one who in the relations of
marriage, propagation of children, and providing for his
household, overcomes suffering and pleasure in union with
God, Origen says: “ I f a man gives himself up entirely to
God, if he divests himself of all care for the present life, if
he keeps himself separate from other men who live according
to the flesh, and seeks no longer what is of the earth but
only heavenly things, he is truly worthy to be called holy ”
(On Lev. xi. 1). In this we already see the emergence of
monasticism.4
It is easy to perceive how this agrees with his whole view
about the earthly life. The soul, banished from a higher
spiritual existence into this material life, which is a state of
1 De Orat. c. 8, 13, 17, 21, 27.

2 Comm, in ep. ad Rom. p. 707, de la R u e: cum omnia praecepta fecerimus,
meminerimus tamen quid simus et dicamus : servi inutiles sumus Luc. 17, 10.—
Si autem addas aliquid praeceptis, tunc non jam inutilis servus eris sed dicetur
ad te ; euge serve bone et fidelis. Quid autem'sit quod addatur praeceptis et
supra debitum fiat. Paulus apost. dicit: de virginibus autem praeceptum
domini non habeo, consilium autem do. Hoc opus super praeceptum est. Qui
ergo completis praeceptis addiderit etiam hoc ut virginitatem custodiat non jam
inutilis servus sed servus bonus et fidelis vociferetur. Et iterum praeceptum
est, ut hi qui evangelium annunciant, de evangelio vivant, Paulus tamen dicit
(1 Cor. ix. 14, 15, etc.).
3 Orig. ad Matth. xix. 16 ff. 4 Uhlhorn, p. 203.
humiliation and discipline, must strive towards what is
higher and heavenly on the way of conflict and abstinence.1
Origen indeed lays great emphasis on the moral character of
this conflict, and his spiritualism has not the despair of
existence at its basis, as was the case with the Neo-Platonic
philosophy of the ageing world; but it rests upon the
certainty of the higher ideal and of its possibility. Neverthe
less, the ethnical foundations which identify the moral and
immoral with the opposition of the spiritual and sensible are
yet distinctly enough to be recognised, and they continue to
work in the moral ideas of the Greek theology.
This is seen particularly in Methodius (t 311),2 a pupil of
Origen, but afterwards an opponent, who became Bishop of
Olympus and then of Tyre. The only work of Methodius which
has been completely preserved is his συμπ όσιον η ηrepi ay velas
( Convivium decem virginuin) in ten discourses. In this work
Methodius still follows Origen. The body is represented as
a prison and limit of the soul, and hence pure virginity is
the highest ideal of virtue, and the greatest possible
annihilation of the sensible life is the goal of the moral
striving. As Christ when He became man “ preserved His
flesh in unspotted virginity, we must also make it a matter
of honour to highly estimate virginity ” (φιλοτιμώμεθα την
παρθενίαν τιμάν, Orat. i. 5). This view he indeed after
wards retracted in his treatise, Ilepl αναστάσεων, of which
only a fragment has been preserved. In this writing
his representation of the spiritual corporeity of the nature of
man and his more realistic tendency, remind us of Tertullian
and the Stoics; but he expresses in these Platonic thoughts
a widespread way of thinking, and he does not deny it even
here. As a Greek, however, he lays more stress upon
freedom than Tertullian does.8 W e are quickened and
impelled to the good by the law dwelling in us {κατά την
οίκείαν φύσιν), so that we are able either to yield or not
to the desires that arise in us. Our virtues are shadowy
1 Exhort, ad Martyr, c. 20, c. 5.
2 Gallandi, Bibi. vett. patr. t. iii. A . Jahn, Methodii opp., Hal. 1865.
Moller in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 ix. 497 ff. Gottfr. Fritschel, Meth. v. 01. u. s.
Philosophie, Inaug. Diss., Lpz. 1879.
3 He wrote a treatise against Origen, entitled U$pt ainôuerleu ; but this is not
what has been handed down to us under that name. %
copies of tlie ideal virtues, the sum of which is the
divine σοφία in which we specially participate by αγνεία,
i.e. παρθενία.
Gregory Thaumaturgus, Origen’s most celebrated scholar,
became Bishop of Neo - Caesarea. In his panegyric on
Origen (Εις Ήριγενην προσφωνητικος κα\ πανηγυρικός Χόγος)
he connects Christian ethics with ancient ethics, inasmuch
as the latter finds its truth in the former. The effects
which the irruption of the Goths had upon the Christians in
leading them to lapse or to fall into other sins, induced Gregory,
in concert with other bishops, to draw up canons regarding
the penances to be imposed upon such. These rules were
afterwards declared canonical by the Trullanian Synod at
Constantinople in 680, and they defined the three degrees of
penitents, called the weepers, the hearers, and the standers.
§ 33. The Gnostic Ethics}
In the Ethics of the Greek Church the ancient philo

sophical views and conceptions served as a means for
expounding and communicating the new Christian experiences
and cognitions, although undoubtedly not without various
other material influences. In the Gnostic systems the new
Christian thoughts are conversely only means for expound
ing and communicating the heathen views and sentiments.
But the characteristic of the heathen way of thinking is the
mixing up of the physical and moral, and the identification of
the moral with the spiritual and non-sensible. Accordingly
the idea of redemption which Gnosticism derived from
Christianity (or brought to it in a way in a naturalistic
sense) shaped itself out of a moral experience and moral task
into a physical process, which aimed at freeing the higher
spiritual elements from their mixture with sensible matter.
In consequence of this, Ethics assumed in Gnosticism pre-1
1 L ipsius, Der Gnosticism, s. Wesen, etc., Lpz. 1860. J acobi in Herzog’s

P. R .-E .2 v. 204 f. K offemane , Die Gnosis nach Tendenz u. Organis. 12
Thesen, Bresl. 1882. H ilgenfeld , Die Ketzergesch. des Urchristenthums, Lpz.
1884. A. H arnack , Dogmengesch. i., 2 Aufl. (p. 158 ff.) 186 if.
dominantly the character of ascetic deliverance from sense,
which might indeed again turn round into sensuous licence.
The seeming affinity Of Gnosticism with Christianity in
connection with its alleged satisfaction of the higher impulse
of knowledge, gave it the diffusion and influence which it
attained. In conflict with it the Christian way of thinking
was destined to become conscious of its essential difference.
This opposition came specially to be expressed in the Western
theology. Certain effects of Gnosticism, especially of its
dualistic mode of thinking, reached down through the whole
Middle Ages.
1. The heathen root o f Gnosticism.— In distinction from the

catholic γνώσις of the Alexandrian theology, the widespread
and influential heretical (ψευδώνυμος) Gnosis early developed
itself and claimed to be Christian, although presented in
particular communities or schools alongside of the Catholic
Church. It appeared as the product of an impulse to know
ledge which was heightened by the entrance of Christianity
into connection with the development of the universal
spiritual life, and it received its nourishment from the
adoption of Christian thoughts. It was a sort of philosophy
of religion, or even a philosophical religion.1 As a speculation,
it sought to solve the problem of being, and to lead its
disciples to a higher existence. This was generally the
problem and interest of the outgoing ancient philosophy, and
it was influenced by the state of the mixed religions of the
time. Hence the fundamental views of the Gnostics were
essentially the ancient conceptions, although connected in
part with various Oriental elements; whereas the Christian
materials which they appropriated were only taken into con
nection with the extra-Christian thinking and deposited around
it.2 Eeaching back to the close of the Apostolic age, this
1 This at least holds true of Manichaeism. Cf. Kessler on “ Manichaeismus ”
in Herzog, 2 Aufl.
2 Among the various views held on this subject, those which accentuate the
difference between Gnosticism and the Church (e.g. Jacobi in Herzog, 2 Anil,
v. 205 f.) deserve to be preferred to those that lay stress on their affinity
(e.g. Baur, Lipsius, Hamack). Thus Harnack (l.c. p. 191) says: “ The great
difference consists essentially in this, that in the Gnostic formations the acute
Gnosticism took a wide flight from the middle of the second
century, hut it also experienced energetic repulsion. The
common basis of the manifold forms of Gnosticism was
heathen in its nature. Its interest in connection with the
problem of existence and the origin of evil, was how to
conceive the mixture of the spiritual and sensible in the
world.1 Its dominant view was that the spirit was the truth
and therefore also the moral, and that sense was the opposite of
spirit, and therefore what ought not to be, or the immoral.
Accordingly it was maintained that evil has its seat in matter,
in the body. The goal of Gnosticism therefore was the
deliverance of the spirit from the bonds of sense; and the
moral task was the physical process of desensualization.
This looks like the Biblical opposition of spirit and flesh, yet
it is essentially different from it. It is only the Platonic
antithesis which is allied with Oriental dualism, and which
completes itself in Stoical or Neo-Platonic consequences.2
2. The idea o f redemption.— It was above all the Christian
idea of redemption which offered the solving word for the
pre-Christian thinking and striving, and which called forth
the mental ferment out of which Gnosticism arose. And
Gnosticism promised to bring about this redemption by means
of the ancient philosophy. The ancient moral philosophy, as
philosophy, saw the means of salvation in thinking. From
Socrates downwards we can trace the high position assigned
to thinking and the primacy of cognition over the will, which,
being regarded as a manifestation of the lower nature, had to
be guided by the reason. Gnosticism shares in this intellect-
ualism. But all intellectualism is aristocratic in its nature,
and looks proudly down upon those who are not qualified
for it. Gnosticism is likewise thoroughly aristocratic, and
sharply and proudly distinguishes the knowers from the
common merely believing Christians. If the world, however,
is a mixture of the antitheses or opposites of the spiritual and
sensual, individuals represent the differences of this mixture.
secularization or Hellenizing of Christianity exhibits itself, whereas in the

catholic system this process was a gradual one. In short, the Gnostics were the
theologians of the first centuries.”
1 Cf. Euseb. Η. E. v. 37. Tertull. De prsescr. hser. c. 7 ; adv. Marc. 1. 2.
2 Cf. the author’s Antike Ethik, pp. 175, 185 f.
Hence arise the natural distinction of the Pneumatici, the
Psychici, and the Hylici, in virtue of which individuals stand
under this law of natural necessity; and accordingly the gnosis
of the Gnostics is a result of natural endowment, whereas
that of the Alexandrian theology is a moral acquisition of
faith.1 The accentuation of freedom, of the αυτεξούσιον, of
the εκούσιον, of the will, on the part of the Greek Fathers
is therefore the definite line of demarcation which sharply
separates churchly theology and Gnostic philosophy of religion
from each other. Gnosticism has appropriated Christ as the
principle of redemption from Christianity, but in its own
sense, and as modified somewhat after the presuppositions of
Oriental natural religion. Christ having descended from the
world of spirit into this world of sense, is destined to draw
the elements of spirit to Himself, and to make them free
from mixture with matter or evil. This then is the process
which takes the place of the moral task of the will in the
individuals.
3. The moral task. — If the spiritual is thus something
given by nature, and is itself the good, then there is no moral
task requiring to be accomplished by the will, but only a
natural process which is to be accompanied by knowledge.
I f the spiritual is of itself the good, it carries its law in itself.
The Pneumaticus is therefore as such a law to himself, and is
subject to no other law. Gnosticism is antinomian. The
Pneumaticus can only validate his law in two ways. Either
he releases the pneuma from the bonds of sense by the way of
an unsensualizing asceticism: certain abstinences from what
is sensuous being as such the way of morality, because the way
of spiritualization. Or, conscious of his higher spirituality, he
exhibits his contempt of the sensible, reducing it by enjoy
ment to exhaustion ; and he thus lives to the flesh, and so
at bottom proves his morality by immorality.
4. Evidences o f Gnosticism as early as the time o f the
Apostles are found in the New Testament.— Before this form
of speculation entered into alliance with Christianity it seems
to have sought to master Judaism for its own purposes, and
with these Judaistic ingredients it also combined Oriental
1 Cf. Hackenschmidt, Die Anfange d. kath. Kirchenbegriffs, Strassb. 1874,
p. 134.
heathen elements1 in order to pass with them to Hellenic
soil. In later times, Simon Magus was represented as an
adherent of the heretical gnosis.2 What is related of him in
the history of the Apostles shows that confusion of the moral
and physical sphere which was characteristic of Gnosticism.
The asceticism of the Colossian heretics was also determined
by dualistic Gnosticism. Paul sees this danger threatening
the Church, and considers it in the Pastoral Epistles. John
had to battle with it both in his conflict with Cerinthus
who came from Egypt, and with the immoral gnosis of the
Nicolaitans in the Epistles of the Apocalypse.
5. Individual Gnostics o f the post-Apostolic time.— In the
post-Apostolic age, Gnosticism reached a higher flight, and
became in various forms a decided danger for the Church.
Basilides, who belonged to Egypt, according to the accounts
of Clement and Hippolytus,3 represented the bodily nature as
the source of sin. In consequence, the death of Christ, the
microcosm, has saving significance, inasmuch as the mixed
elements of the corporeal and spiritual separate in Him in
order to go each to its place. Thus the way of asceticism is
sketched out for individuals; but this was a moderated
asceticism which did not necessarily exclude marriage. “ The
ethical task is how to attain a rest of soul free from all
impure passions and moved by no desire, and reaching its
highest satisfaction in the contemplation of God. The
struggle of virtue must therefore be directed against the
sensuous desires and other evil properties which cleave to
the soul from the lower stages of life.” As expounded by
Irenseus, this form of Gnosticism appears dualistic in principle.
The supreme Father sends the Nous in the form of Christ for
the redemption of the Pneumatici, and His form is purely
docetic without contact with matter. To recognise the
Eedeemer in this Christ (not in the crucified Jesus who
was Simon of Cyrene) is redemption; and in contrast to
this knowledge of spirit, the distinctions of good and evil,
1 Cf. Kessler, “ Mandaer,” in Herzog’s P. E .-E .2 ix. 221 : “ The real source
of all gnosis is the highly developed old Babylonian religion. ”
2 So also Hilgenfeld in his “ Ketzergeschichte des Urchristenth. ” in opposi
tion to the negative position of Baur’s School towards the whole tradition about
Simon Magus.
5 Cf. Jacobi in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 v. 222.
which belong to plurality of sense, disappear, and the heathen
customs and such like are indifferent; so that the moral
attitude of the beginning here turns round into immorality.—
Valentinus1 likewise holds that Christ’s death is only a
symbol of the redemption, which is realized by the way of
knowledge “ in elevation to perfectness by communication of
gnosis to the Pneumatici.” “ The Pneumatici are by their
nature sure of return into the pleroma, and the only matter of
importance is that they be raised by gnosis to the knowledge
of it.” The Pneumaticus cannot therefore be defiled by
anything, just as the ocean cannot be defiled. From this
position it was not far to the excesses which Irenteus charges
on the Yalentinians.— Bardesanes, at first in Syria and later
farther in the East, adopted a strong dualistic element; and
Tatian the Syrian was also led by his later dualism to sheer
asceticism and encratitism, including the rejection of marriage
and wine. According to the dualistic gnosis of Saturninus
(Satornilus) the Syrian, the Pneumatici were to be saved from
the bonds of sense by their gnosis and their asceticism, which
rejected marriage. Likewise among the Ophites the attracting
of the elements of light from matter and the gathering of the
Pneumatici out of the world of men by the "Α νω -Χ ριστός, is
treated as a natural process, only under ethical titles. The
Gnosticism of Carpocrates of Alexandria (in the first half
of the second century), as distinguished from these ascetic
tendencies, is monistic and antinomiam His son Epiphanes
drew out the ethical consequences on the side of immorality.
Everything has emanated from unity and returns to it from
individuality and plurality, — theoretically in gnosis as the
knowledge of the divine unity (ηνωσπ μοναδική), and
practically in life, κατα φνσιν, i.c. in setting aside the limita
tions of law in life. For the following of Jesus in faith and
love is contempt for the laws which the Demiurge has given.
“ So long as all laws are not transgressed and all fetters
snapped, the soul is banished by the creators of the world
into, the metempsychosis; it remains in the prison of the
body till it has paid the last farthing (Matt. v. 2 6).” 2
Clement of Alexandria mentions several other Gnostics of
1 Jacobi in Herzog, l.c. p. 227.
2 Jacobi, p. 237.
kindred nature whose exercise of virtue consisted in con
quering sensuous pleasure by sensuous pleasure, or who, like
the Antitacti, asserted that the Creator of the world was to be
combated through transgression of the moral law, and that
blessedness was to be obtained from the supreme God.
6. Marcion1 holds a position by himself. In his ultra-
Paulinism, notwithstanding the influence of the Syrian Gnostic,
Cerdon, he has preserved most distinctly religious and ethical
elements of a Christian kind. His system is dominated by
the antitheses of justice and grace, law and gospel, Old Testa
ment and Hew Testament, Judaism and Christianity; and
these are viewed as really irreconcilable. He did not wish
a school, but a church, yet with the distinction of the •perfecti
(electi) and catechumeni. He required the whole austerity of
asceticism only from the former, and it included abstinence
from marriage and restriction to the simplest and most needful
food. His Christianity of grace, of the forgiveness of sin, and
of the new life, breaks with the world of the Creator, and
thereby makes the fulfilment of a vocation in the world, and
consequently of the vocation of the Church in the world,
impossible. His relatively greater affinity with the Chris
tianity of the Church made Marcion just the more dangerous,
and consequently sharpened the opposition of the Church to
him. Polycarp is said to have called him “ the first-born of
Satan,” and to have repulsed him when greeted by him at
Pome. In Marcion’s system the natural principle of Gnos
ticism appears as still mostly ethical, and is overcome by the
accentuation of the w ill; yet it is also negatively retained here
in the rejection of the world of the God of the Jews.
A p p e n d i x .— M a n ic h a e is m .1
2
Manichceism, although starting from wholly different presuppo

sitions, coincides in its result in many respects with Marcionism.
Manichaeism sprang from the old Babylonian Semitic religion
1 Hamack, Dogmengesch. i. 226 ff.

2 Cf. Kessler in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 ix. 223-259, and Ad. Hamack, Dogmen
gesch. i. 737 ff. The Western form of Manichaeism is particularly to be studied
in the relevant writings of Augustin.
of nature, but it borrowed also some elements from Christianity
and leaned variously upon it. Especially in its later Western
form, it rests very decidedly upon its naturalistic basis, which
therefore makes its ethics also naturalistic. For, its dualism
between light and darkness is physical, and is only so far
likewise regarded as ethical. This antithesis pervades the
world, so that the elements of light, robbed by darkness and
bound, have to look for redemption; and the same holds also of
the human race, which carries in itself more or less of the
elements of light that are destined to become free by the way
of gnosis. To introduce this process through the corresponding
knowledge is the task of Jesus, that is to say, of the proper
passionless docetic Jesus; and Mani and his imitators, the
“ elect,” were destined to bring this work to completion. In
consequence, the moral task comes to be the ascetic one of
abstaining from sensuous enjoyment by means of the three so-
called “ seals : ” the signaculum oris, which forbids all enjoy
ment of impure food (flesh and wine) ; the signaculum manus,
which forbids all occupation with unclean elements; and the
signaculum sinus, which forbids all sexual community. This
asceticism was combined with rigid and extensive fasting,
which took up almost the fourth part of the year, and with
numerous definitely arranged prayers, preceded by ablutions.
As everywhere in similar cases, this ascetic ethic had as its
consequence the establishment of a double morality : the higher
stage of the “ elect,” who had to subject themselves to the full
severity of that requirement, but who in return enjoyed the
highest recognition from the others, and occupied the position
of redeeming mediators ; and the lower stage of the common
members of the community (auditores), who had only to keep to
abstinence from the coarsest offences (idolatry, magic, lying,
fornication, all killing of living things, etc., included in the ten
commandments of Mani).— Its semblance of higher knowledge
and of a consistent explanation of the world made Manichseism
of the greatest danger for the Church. Its influence extended
far.down into the Middle Ages, even to the Cathari, the
Paulicians, and the Bogomils. In Manichaeism and its dualism
the heathen root of the whole theory of Gnosticism comes most
decidedly to light. For the naturalizing of the ethical, which
is the specifically heathen element, forms the common charac-
teristic of Gnosticism and its specific difference from the
Christian mode of thinking. Yet Gnosticism has not failed
to stir and influence certain related tendencies and frames of
mind in the Christian sphere, which have found their most
characteristic expression in Mon astici sm.
§ 34. The Monastic and Mystico-ascctic Ideal in the Ethics of

the Greek Church}
The duty of the Christian to flee from the world and its
transitory pleasure, and to combat the flesh, was opposed to
the surrounding heathen worldly life, and soon also to the
worldly life in the Church, or to what was regarded as worldly
life in it ; and the mode of life it implied became early
transformed into the external conduct of ascetic renunciation
which was at first practised in society and then in retirement
from it, and in associations formed for the common regulation
of the separated life. Although it was not taken from heathen
exemplars, but was occasioned by special Christian moral
motives and by a justified repugnance to the corruption of
the civilised life of the time, and by the endeavour to preserve
the original earnestness of the Christian life, yet this Mon-
asticism grew at bottom out of the root of the heathen view
of the world which identifies the sphere of the spiritual with
that of the moral, and the moral task with the process of
desensualization. It therefore places perfection in the realiza-
1 Mangold, De monachatus originibus et causis, Marp. 1882. Mohler, Gesch.
des Monchth., in seinen v. Dollinger, herausg. Schriften, ii. 169. Zbekler, Krit.
Gesch. der Askese, Frkf. a M. 1863, p. 393 ff. Weingarten, Ursprung des
Monchth. im nachkonstant. Zeitalter, Gotha 1877, n. P. E. -E .2 x. 758-792.
Lucius, Die Quellen der alteren Gesch. des agypt. Monchthums, in Brieger s
Zeitschr. f. Kirchengesch. vii. 2. Hase, Das Leben des h. Antonius, Jahrbb.
f. protest. Theol. vi. 418-448. A. Harnack, Das Monchth., seine Ideale u. s.
Gesch., Giessen (1882), 3 Aufl. 1886. Gass, Gesch. der christl. Ethik, Berl. i.
1881, p. 121 if. Bestmann, Gesch. der christl. Sitte, ii., Nordl. 1885, pp. 4 83 -
534. Th. Zahn, Forschungen zur Gesch. des neutest. Kanon ii., Der Evang.-
Komm. des Theophilus u. Ant., Eri. 1883, p. 183 ff. Bomemann, In investiganda
monachatus origine quibus de causis ratio habenda sit Origenis, 1885. Alb.
Eiclihom, Athanasii de vita ascetica testimonia collecta, Halis Sax. 1886.
(He recognises the genuineness of the σ ύ ντα γ μ α ^tharxaXias προς μβνάζβντας, etc.,
the de virginitate, and the vita Antonii.)
tion of the Stoical ideal of apathy, and seeks union with God
on the way of contemplative immersion into Him, and of the
alleged angelic life. This ideal is combined by the Greek
teachers with the motives which they had more or less
adopted from the theology of Origen.
1 . The Ascetics o f the first centuries.— There is early men

tion of Ascetics and Encratites in the midst of the Christian
society.1 Hegesippus already makes the younger James their
model.2 Athenagoras speaks of them,3 and Tertullian often
mentions them as continentes,4 Clement of Alexandria (Strom,
vii. p. 711) and Origen (Com. in Ep. ad Eom. t. iii. p. 507)
speak, although in terms of blame, of those \vho abstain
from marriage, flesh, and wine, and lead a βίον μονήρη, at
first in the world and afterwards in external retirement.
But an ascetic inclination was present in the Church from
the beginning, and exhibited itself in the practice of fasting,
and especially in the high estimation of virginity. Direc
tions and examples in the Holy Scriptures appeared to
justify and to favour this tendency. It was supported by
the state of the world at the time, which could not but give
rise to perplexity regarding the actual state of the whole of
the common life. The ideal seemed as if it could be found
only in complete opposition to that life, in connection with
the non-Christian mode of thinking of the ancient world
which had pressed into the Church and which placed the
moral task in desensualization and identified it with it. Now,
as Christianity was regarded as the higher truth of the
previous heathen stage, and as it had actually to manifest
and exhibit itself to the heathen world as such in the moral
conduct of life, asceticism in the form of fasting, and especially
of virginity, appeared to be the triumph of Christianity. In
the “ Teaching of the Apostles” fasting is already several
times prescribed, and the Shepherd of Hermas in its expres
sions regarding statio presupposes it as a regular practice,
although it is still held in moderate estimation. In Tatian,
however, and the Encratites, as well as in various Gnostic
1 Th. Zahn, Forschungen, i. 285-7. 2 Euseb. Η. E. ii. 23. 8 *ρισβιία, c. 28.
4 Apologet. 9 ; de patientia, 14 ; de cultu femin. 9 ; ad uxorem, i. 6 ; de vir
ginibus velandis, 3.
expositions, it is founded in principle on a dualistic view.
And although this dualistic way of thinking was rejected by
the Church,1 yet fasting as a necessary and meritorious
exercise has had a rich history in the Church, and has had
its virtuosi.1
2— The centre of asceticism, however, was virginity.
It formed the boast of the apologists, and all the more that
the accusations against the heathen world were most justified
just in the sphere of the sexual life. However much the
Church brought the dignity of marriage into recognition, yet
from a misunderstanding of Pauline words and Biblical ex
amples complete abstinence from marriage was regarded as
more worthy.3 With this there is renewed the double stage
of the ancient ethics of Aristotle and the Stoics in a Christian
form. There are δυο βίων τρόποι with the distinction of the
πρώτος and δεύτερος βαθμός ,4 the former being the stage of
the common Christian life, the latter the higher stage of celi
bacy and withdrawal from the usual secular employments of
the earthly calling.
2. The Eremites.5— This asceticism was practised at the
outset in the -world, and within the Christian community,
but it was partly the persecutions under Decius and Diocletian
which led many, according to Jerome, into solitude, and partly
the hyperculture of the surrounding world and of the life of
the cities which produced in many minds an almost Bousseau
tendency towards a state of nature and an inclination to live
with nature.6 Further, the secularization of Christendom itself
1 E.g. Can. apost. 50 (cf. Const, ap. vi. 2 6 ); Syn. of Ancyra 314, and of
Gangra c. 360-370, can. 2.
2 Cf. Linsenmayr, Entwicklung der kirchl. Fastendisciplin bis zum Koncil v.
Nicaa, Munch. 1877.
3 Cf. Clem. Rom. 38. 2 ; 48. 5, 6. Ignat, ad Polyc. 5 : %l n s ^vvarxi I» &y*uu
μίναν its τιμήν rns trapxo; rov xvpiov, 1» axecv^tifficp μινίτω. *άν χχυχήfftjnxi, α,χωΧίτο.
Athenag. 34. Clem. Str. iii. 68, p. 542, vii. 69-83. Apost. Constit. vii. 10.
Tert. de virg. vel. : continentiae virtus. Tertullian uses the term spadones
(ώνουχοι in Melito). Dionysius of Corinth, in a letter to the Cnossians in
Euseb. Η . E. iv. 23. 7, says : μη βχρν φορτίον ϊsrxvuyxfs το πιρ) ayvtias ro7s
ethx<po7s, etc. “ To take the yoke of the Lord upon oneself” was the designation
used for voluntary sexual continence, particularly for the monastic vow. Cf.
Th. Zahn, Forschungen, ii. pp. 185-192.
4 Euseb. Demonstr. ev. i. 8.
8 Cf. Burckhardt, Die Zeit Konstantin’s d. Gr. 1853, p. 431 ff.
6 Cf. e.g. Jerome to Marcella, c. 3 : “ During the heat of summer the shadow
of a tree will furnish a cooler retreat; in the autumn the mild air and the fallen
VOL. I. L
became also for many a strong motive, and it always became
the stronger for adopting this mode of life. Thus it was that
in the course of the third century not a few had given up their
possessions and goods and distributed them among the poor,
and had abandoned human society and withdrawn themselves
into the solitude of the desert, where they united into associa
tions. All this went on the more that the world appeared to
be given up to corruption and to be advancing to its end.
However intelligible, therefore, this was, and however much
we may recognise the moral energy and the pervading ideal
sense which expressed itself in this resolution, yet it presented
at the same time a renunciation of the calling of the individual
in the world, and fundamentally also of the world-calling of
Christianity in general. — The historical reliability of the
account of Paul of Thebes and of the descriptions in the
Vita Pauli Monachi of Jerome, is indeed questionable; but
the existence of such anchorites or hermits (βρημΐται, μοναχοί,
μονάζοντβς) is unquestionable, as they had not only precursors
on non-Christian soil, but they had an apparent justification in
Scripture in the withdrawal from society of Elijah and John
the Baptist.
3. Monastic Unions were formed, as was natural. They
furnished at the same time a protection against the dangers of
unregulated anchoretism, and they appeared to realize the
ideal of Christian fellowship. The tradition of them is
especially connected with Pachomius (t 348), the scholar and
follower of St. Anthony (f 356). Pachomius instituted labour
along with prayer and asceticism, as a part of the latter. The
work engaged in was the making of baskets and mats out of
bulrushes, and the weaving of linen, and tanning; and the
remains of the proceeds were distributed to the poor. It is
neither necessary nor correct to go back with Weingarten
in explanation of this to the example in the Egyptian worship
of Serapis, as the phenomenon is explicable in itself. How
rapidly this monasticism laid hold and spread over Palestine
(Hilarion, f 371) to Asia Minor and elsewhere, is proved by
foliage will show us a resting-place ; in the spring the field adorns itself with
flowers, and amid the plaintive songs of the birds the psalms are sung more
pleasantly ; amid the cold and snow shower I shall buy no wood, and yet offer
my prayers more warmly at night or fall asleep.”
the already reforming activity of Basil in Asia Minor. Every
where monkish settlements were formed in the region around
Lake Moeris (where, in the time of Yalens, there were ten
thousand monks), in the Nitrian desert west of the delta, on
the shore of the Mediterranean and of Lake Mareotis, and
above all in the district of Tabenna in Upper Egypt, where in
the time of Jerome no less than fifty thousand monks were
wont to celebrate Easter.1
4. The monkish ideal.— With these external motives in the
whole condition of the time, there were also connected certain
internal motives from the beginning. It was believed that
the words of Jesus concerning the renunciation of material
possession and such like, were thus externally fulfilled, and
that the Christian ideal was to be in this way realized. The
monastic life, with its continence (εγκράτεια), combating
of desires (κρυπτός άγων), and contemplativeness, appeared as
the divine and angel-like life (φιλόθεος, Ισάγγελος), as the
true divine philosophy (ή κατά Θεόν φιλοσοφία), the realiza
tion of the Stoical perfectness (κατόρθωμα) and “ apathy,” etc.,
and as the way to perfection (τελείωσις) and to the enjoyment
of God (γευσις του Θεού). Monasticism is therefore the com
bination of asceticism and mystical contemplation; the former
is the beginning and way, the latter is the goal. The
Western monasticism is distinguished from this contempla
tive mysticism, with its renunciation of the world, which
took form in the Greek Church, by having become more
actively practical, and having entered into the service of
the hierarchical tasks of governing the world. The first
mediator of monasticism between the East and West was
Athanasius.
§ 35. The representatives o f the ascetic Ideal in the

Greek Church.
1 . Athanasius2 ( f 3*73) is to be named before all others

as a decided representative of the ascetic morality, and an
influential friend and promoter of monasticism. The follow-
1 J. Burckhardt, Die Zeit Konstantin’s d. Gr. p. 440.
2 Mohler, Athan. d. Gr. 2 Aufl. 1844. Voigt, Die Lehre des Atlian. 1861.
Bohringer, 2 Aufl. vi.
ing works of Athanasius are related to the present subject:
Περί παρθενίας ήτοι περί άσκήσεως. Σύνταγμα ΒώασκαΧίας
προς μονάζοντας και πάντας χριστιανούς, etc. (both Athanasian,
according to A. Eichhorn). Τοΐς τον μονήρη βίον άσκοΰσιν
επιστοΧή. Vita Antonii (composed according to the common
view in 365, but according to Eichhorn in 3 5 7 ),1 described in
the preface as a model of asceticism for monks (μοναχοΐς
Ικανός χαρακτήρ προς άσκησιν), and called by Gregory of
Nazianzum, Or. 21. 5, “ a legislation of the monastic life in
the form of history.” Athanasius is an ardent eulogizer of
virginity. “ How great then is the good of virginity ! It is
enjoined on every one by the law to practise the other virtues,
but virginity surpasses the la w ; it strives after a higher end
with the whole leading of life, it is a token of the other
world, a picture of the purity of the angels.” God the Logos
has chosen a virgin to become man, “ that as the world arose
through Him virginity might also take its beginning from Him,
and that this grace might be bestowed through Him on men.”
“ But what happened to Mary redounds to the glory of all
virgins; for they hang henceforth as virgin offshoots on her
as the root.” 2 “ Now those who possess this virtue of
virginity are wont to be called by the Church ‘ brides of Christ/
When the heathen see them, they wonder at them as a temple
of the Logos, for nowhere but only among us Christians is
this honourable and heavenly mode of life really cultivated.” 3
His Vita Antonii is a glorification of monasticism, but its
description is sometimes so extravagant that we have difficulty
in thinking of the great theologian Athanasius as its author.
The monk appears as the ideal of the Christian, and at the
same time as the realization of the ancient ideal (c. 14).
Morality is represented as desensualization: a spiritualism
resting at bottom on dualism (cf. c. 45, 47). On this way
Athanasius seeks the realization of the goal of Christianity
which God has willed with the incarnation of Christ, and
1 Against Weingarten’s denial of the Athanasian authorship and later date of
this work, cf. Hase, Jahrbb. f. prot. Theol. vi. p. 418 if., and Gass, Gesch. d.
chr. Ethik, i. 122 if. Also Lipsius, Prot. K .-Z . 1877, Nr. 38 f. Hilgenfeld,
Ztschr. f. wiss. Theol. 1878, 1. A . Eichhorn, l.c.
2 Comment, in Luc. Gallandi, v. p. 187 (Nirschl, Lehrb. der Fatrologie,
1883, ii. p. 53 f.).
3 Apol. ad imperatorem Constantinum, c. 33.
which is not merely revelation, but essential communication of
God for the purpose of our deification.
Eeference may be made to some of the details in the Vita

Antonii. In c. 3, Athanasius relates how Antony gave away
all his property to the poor in order to live alone by himself,
and devote himself to asceticism. “ A t that time there were not
yet such numerous monastic settlements in E gypt; ” nor did any
monk yet know the depths of the desert, but every one who
wished to live by himself practised asceticism only a little dis
tance away from the place of his home. But Antony soon with
drew deeper into the desert in order to escape from the throng
of his visitors. “ He watched so much, that he frequently
spent the whole night without sleep.” “ He ate once a day
after sunset, sometimes, however, only after two days, and even
occasionally he only took something after four days. His food
was bread and salt, and his drink water only ” (c. 7). This was
the natural reaction from the luxury of the prevailing life of the
previous time. But the very excess of the attempts to get rid
of sense awoke the spirits of temptation and assault. Agoniz
ing visions, which translated themselves into seeming reality,
visited him as they did afterwards the other anchorites. The
demons appeared as serpents, lions, bulls, wolves, scorpions,
leopards, and bears, all growling and threatening. But even in
the desert to which he had retired, when sought out by
numerous visitors, he appeared after twenty years unchanged
as before. “ He remained completely identical with himself,
because he was guided by reason and held fast by an excellent
nature.” This is remarked by Athanasius in chap. 14 in
reference to the ancient ideal. “ But he spoke to all, exhorting
them to esteem nothing that is in the world higher than love to
Christ;” and so, continues Athanasius, in this way he put
genuine Christian motives directly beside ancient thoughts.
The monks who gathered around him are exhorted by Antony
in a long address; we shall “ reign ages of ages ” for the seventy,
or eighty, or even hundred years of our endurance (c. 16).
Virtue is not difficult “ if we only will.” Quite in the manner
of an ancient philosopher, he calls to mind in c. 20 that “ if
the soul by its nature only wills what is rational, virtue
obtains existence.” Farther on he treats in detail of the
conflict with the devil and with the evil spirits from his
own experience. A ll sorts of miraculous and wonderful
events, visions, healings, etc., are then added, mixed up with
some striking reminiscences and discourses about the contests
arising out of the struggle of life and the heresies which
devastated the Church.
2 . Jacob Aphraates,1 or Mar Jacob, was abbot and bishop
of Mar Mattai. He is the oldest Father of the Syrian Church,
and is called “ the Persian sage.” · Twenty-three Tractates,
mostly of a moral ascetic character, are attributed to him, and
his authorship of them is regarded as having been established
by Wright since 1869. “ The basis of our whole faith is the
true foundation-stone, our Lord Jesus Christ. Upon this foun
dation-stone faith is built, and then upon faith rises the whole
building to its completion.— Man first believes; after he believes,
he loves ; after he loves, he hopes; after he hopes, he is justi
fied; after he is justified, he becomes perfect; after he is perfect,
he is complete.”— “ For all sufferings there is a remedy by
which a wise physician can remove them. But the medicine
for those who are wounded in our conflict is penitence, which
they must allow to be laid upon their wounds in order to be
healed.”— “ Sacred fasting is pleasing before G od ; it is a
treasure which is preserved in heaven, a weapon against the
evil one, and a shield which wards off his arrows.”— God “ has
instituted marriage for the populating of the world, and it is
very good; but virginity is more excellent.” 213
3. Ephraim the Syrian 3 (c. 350) composed many homilies
and other works of a moral kind. Among these the following
may be mentioned: Περί αρετών teal κακιών. Λόηος
ασκητικός. Περί των παθών. Περί αρετής προς νεώτερον
ασκητήν. Αόηοι παραινετικοί προς άσκητάς. Περί του
τεΧειον είναι τον μοναγόν. He demands moral austerity and
continence in the sense of self - control generally; and he
exhorts frequently to humility and repentance, and to striving
after “ perfection ” in the sense of “ a total severance from
every shameful passion, and complete devotion to the highest
virtue, which is the purification and sanctification of the heart
by participation in the perfect and divine spirit.” 4 For this
purpose he recommends the ascetic life, especially in his long
ascetic discourse; he warns against unchastity, and blames
worldly employments; and he thereupon calls to mind that
“ the united exercise of prayer and the contemplation of the
1 Nirschl, Lehrbuch des Patrologie, p. 250 ff.

2 Excerpts from the treatises on Faith, Penitence, Fasting, and Virginity.
3 Spiegel in Herzog’s P. R.*E.9 iv. 255 ff.
4 From the last· mentioned work, his guide to perfection.
word of God, is to be preferred to the practice of every com
mandment and of every other virtue,” making reference (as
others of the Church Fathers such as Basil do) to the prefer
ence which the Lord had given to Mary before Martha. He
shares with the Alexandrian Church a predilection for the Pro
verbs of Solomon. In all these points, as well as generally,
he exercised a great influence for a long time.
4. Basil the Great1 wrote Homilies (Homilim diversi argu
menti xxxi.) and Discourses {Sermones xxv.) on the virtues and
vices, alms, riches, and poverty, coveteousness and fasting, a
special discourse on the renunciation of the world and spiritual
perfection {Sermo asceticus de renuntiatione mundi et de perfec
tione spirituali), and a sermon on ascetic discipline and the
moral adornment of the monk {Sermo de ascetica disciplina,
quomodo monachum ornari oporteat). The 'Ασκητικά (Opp.
ii. 1 9 9 -5 8 2 ) are made up of his religious moral writings
collected under this title, and with these are also to be taken
his 'Ηθικά, which give general Christian precepts of life based
on passages of Scripture. The longer and shorter rules for
the life of brotherhood exhibit the dominance of the ascetic
point of view in his ethics, and show the successful promoter
of monasticism “ the anticipated life of the angels.” 12 A few
details may be quoted. In the sermon on fasting, he says:
“ Fasting brings gain to the sou l; ” “ it kills the sin that is
deeply hidden within, when it penetrates the soul and really
deserves this name” (c. 1 ). “ It is older than the law; it is
as old as the human race; it was already commanded in
Paradise.” “ The words: ye shall not eat, are a law of fasting
and abstinence.” “ W e have become sick by sin; we must be
healed again by repentance; but repentance without fasting is
useless ” (c. 3). “ Because we did not fast, we lost Paradise;
let us fast then in order that we may return to it ” (c. 4).
But he also says in c. 1 0 : “ The true fasting consists in
abstinence from evil.” Basil repeatedly returns to the subject
of abstinence and continence in his rules on the life of brother
hood. “ Continence is an abolition of sin, a removal of passion,
1 Klose, Basil d. Gr. nach s. Leben u. s. Lelire, Strals. 1835. Bohringer, vii. 1
(1875). Moiler in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 ii. 116 ff.
2 Constitt. monast. Cf. *ifi riXu'ornros βίου μονχχίου, Ep. 22 (Opp. iii. 98).
The writings referred to are given together in Migne, iii.
a slaying of the body in its natural inclinations and desires;
it is the beginning of spiritual life, and an expectancy of
eternal good in that it destroys the sting of sensuous pleasure.
For sensuous pleasure is the great bait of the Evil One, which
tempts us men the most to sin.” “ Thus continence is indis
pensable to those who are struggling for piety, for the mortifi
cation of the body.” These precepts are connected with
directions regarding the limit of external expense, and about
external behaviour and appearance; and they go most carefully
into such details as the wearing of the girdle. Even in the
“ shorter rules,” along with excellent directions and references
to experiences of life, there are also such rules as that “ the
believer should never have time for laughing,” seeing that “ the
Lord condemns those who laugh now.” W e find also in Basil
the distinction between what is commanded for all and the
higher stage of evangelical perfection: the προσθήκη των
τελειότερων, the realization of the κατόρθωμα of the Stoics.
Churchly discipline is treated by Basil in his “ three Canonical
Letters,” which are addressed to Bishop Amphilochius of
Iconium on the subject, and which have obtained canonical
authority. His care for the poor and wretched was shown by
his great institution called the Basilias, before the gates of
Ciesarea. It was a poorhouse or hospital, and was called by
Gregory Nazianzen “ a new city.” Basil was also an emphatic
preacher of neighbourly love ; and he particularly stood up for
the slaves, and opposed their legally authorized sale.
5. Gregory o f Nyssa} — Reference may be made to the
following works: Περί του βίου Μωυσεως τού νομοθετου ή
περί τής κατ αρετήν τελειότητος. ΕΙς την προσευχήν:
an exposition of the Lord’s Prayer in five discourses, in
which the forgiveness of sin is emphasized more strongly
than elsewhere. ΕΙς τούς μακαρισμούς. Kara τοκιζόντων
{contra usurarios s. feneratores). Περί εύποιίας {de pauperisms
et de beneficientia). Π ερί τού βίου τής μακαρίας Μακρινής τής
ιδίας αδελφής: a glorification of virginity; the highest thing
according to Gregory is the εμφίλόσοφος και αυλός του βίου
διαγωγή, a life freed from all earthly cares and bonds, the
αγγελική και επουράνιος ζωή. Further, Περί τελειότητος καί
1 Rupp, Greg. ν. Nyssa Leben u. Meinungen, 1834. Bohringer, a. a. 0 . viii.
Molior in Herzog, 2 Aufl. v. 396 fF.
οποίον χρη είναι τον Χριστιανόν (ad Olympium monachum).
Περί παρθενίας (de virginitate). Chap. xii. of this treatise
contains a connected exposition of his anthropological and
soteriological views.1 It is a description of the κατα φιλοσοφίαν
βίος, or the contemplative life ; and the ideal is τό μόνη τη
ψ νχη ζνν KaL μψεΐσθαι κατα το Βυνατόν την των άσωμάτων
Βννάμεων πολίτειαν, “ travelling upon the dove wings of the
soul to heaven, and therefore leading a life only of the spirit.”
'Τποτνπωσις (summaria descriptio veri scopi vitee asccticce).
Περί του τί τό 'χριστιανών όνομα ή επάγγελμα (quid nomen
professione Christianorum sibi velit, ad Harmonium). This
work represents the ascetic element most strongly. The
same position is also found in his Homilies on the Song of
Solomon, with allegorical application to the soul.2 This ideal
is more that of the Platonists than of the Stoics, and it is got
by learned study. The longing of his heart is not for the
grace of the forgiveness of sin, but for purification from sin.
Hence his thoughts turn towards the resurrection and the
apokatastasis; for in these the purifying punishments of God
attain their purpose. The way to freedom from sin is eleva
tion above the earthly and sensuous in a striving after the
ideal, and this is met by the grace which comes to fill the
dying soul with heavenly light and life. The Christian
doctrine of grace and ancient moralism are here presented side
by side. Man as the bond of the two worlds of God and
matter, as the unity of the spiritually moral and sensuous
nature, is subject to the powers of sense, without, however,
having lost his freedom even for what is good. In virtue of
his freedom he has accordingly to return to God by collecting
himself out of his dividedness into the plurality of sensible
things and retiring upon himself. He thus raises himself to
the light in order then to be filled by it through» the grace
that finds him. For as in Christ human nature is raised to
its last and highest goal by union with the Deity, so in virtue
of the connection of Christ as the απαρχή of humanity with
man, we also ought to realize our conformity to the image of
God by progressive imitation of Christ and of the invisible
1 Cf. Luthardt, Lehre v. freien Willen, Lpz. 1863, p. 18 ff.
2 E.g. Hom. 1 : ν υ μ ψ ο χ τ ο λ ιΤ τ α ι τ ρ ό π ο ν n v a fi ψ ν χ ϊ ϊ π ρ ο ς τήν α σ ω μ ,χ τ ί ν n χαϊ
π η υ μ α τ ι χ η * *«ί α ν λ ο ν τ ο υ θ ι ο ν τ ν ζ ν γ ί χ ν (Migne, ΐ. ρ. 765).

God through putting ourselves under the enlightening and
purifying influence of the Holy Spirit. Γ , χριστιανισμόςο γ
εστι της Θείας φνσεως μίμησις. This is at bottom a Christian

ized Platonic morality.
6 . Gregory o f Nazianzum 1 treated ethical themes in many
of his sermons, and discourses, and letters. Thus his 14th
Sermon treats of love to the poor, the 37 th Sermon treats
of the indissolubleness of marriage, etc. He has also treated
moral subjects in a poetic form. Thus in his forty moral
poems he deals with love to virtue, and with the married,
priestly, and virgin state. Virginity is the special theme of
two separate poems. “ Marriage is a good thing, but I
cannot say how much more sublime is virginity.” “ Virginity
and the unmarried life is great; it is to be reckoned among
the order of the angels, and as like to the simple (purely
spiritual) beings.” “ 0 virgin, bride of Christ, always praise
thy bridegroom; purify thyself by doctrine and wisdom, in
order that thou mayest live shining with the shining ones to
all eternity. For such marriage is much more glorious than
the corruptible union. In the body thou imitatest the
heavenly powers, and leadest the life of the angels on earth ”
(Carmen, iii. p. 632). He chose “ the ascetic life for his
bride,” and living along with Basil on an estate in Pontus,
he “ revelled in privations.” Monasticism is his ideal, the
philosophy κατ εξοχήν, which seemingly unoccupied yet. put
the highest task before itself; απράημων yap ή ησυχία τής εν
π payμάτι ττεριφανείας τιμιωτερα (Epist. 76), for in the midst
of the world it has burst the bonds of the flesh, and it fills
the deepest poverty with the highest divine riches.2
7. The changes and storms of the political life made
monasticism appear as the haven of rest, aud as the foretaste
of heaven. The character of the age concurred with the
tendency to asceticism, and it was recommended by the most
important representatives of the Church, and by the authority
of monkish writers. Among these we may refer to Macarius
the .Great (t c. 390). His fifty Homilies are hortatory
addresses to the monks on asceticism and Christian perfec-
1 Ullmann, Greg. v. Naz. 1825. Behringer, a. a. 0 . viii. Gass in Herzog’s
P. R .-E .2 v. 392 ff.
2 Gass, l.c.
tion, out of which the seven Opuscula ascdica have been
excerpted by Simeon Logotheta. W e may quote from his
letters a statement about prayer: “ Above all, you must
continue in prayer; for it is certainly the leader in the choir
of the virtues; for he who perseveringly gives himself to
prayer shares and rejoices in a mystical and spiritual power,
and an inexpressible mood of soul. Tor if he has received
the Spirit through prayer as a guide and fellow-combatant,
he is kindled into love to the Lord, and glows with longing.”
There are other discourses and writings by other Egyptian
abbots and monks regarding monasticism and ascetic precepts.
To these belongs Evagrius 1 of Pontus, a scholar of Macarius,
who was led by love to the “ philosophical” life to the
ISTitrian monks in Egypt. Of his writings, mention may be
specially made of his Μονάχος ή περί πρακτικής (monachus s.
de vita activa), an introduction for monks who busied them
selves not only with contemplation, but with labour. In his
“ sentences” addressed to the virgins, he says that at the
resurrection of the dead “ the eyes of the virgin will see God,
and the ears of the virgin will hear His voice; the mouth of
the virgin will kiss her bridegroom; the hands of the virgin
will touch the Lord, and the chastity of the flesh will be
agreeable to H im ; the virgin soul will be crowned, and live
for ever with her bridegroom.” Nilus 2 gave up a respectable
position in life in Constantinople in order to betake himself
as a monk to Sinai with his son, while his wife and daughters
found their way to. the Egyptian convents. Besides 1061
Letters, he composed numerous writings on moral and ascetic
subjects, e.g. Ilepl τάς άντιζύγους των αρετών κακίας (Defini
tions of the commonly accepted eight cardinal vices); and
in more detail on the same subject: Περί των οκτώ πνευμάτων
τής πονηριάς; Περί διαφόρων πονηρών Χογισμων, and Λόγος
περί προσευχής, in 153 short chapters. He also wrote various
works on the monastic life and other subjects, and probably
also christianized the Encheiridion of Epictetus for his monks,
putting Paul, for instance, in place of Socrates. There also
exist several collections of “ sentences ” · under his name. He
loved proverbial wisdom, and acquired a reputation in con
nection with it. He represents -a thorough monastic morality.
1 Gass in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 iv. 421 f. 2 Ibid. x. 579 f.
Hermits and monks are to him the true philosophers. Christ
and the Apostles were the first to exhibit this contempt of
the world; and the μονάζοντβς are their true followers. The
Christian “ philosopher” must be free from all passions,
earthly cares, and bodily hindrances; turning away from
all that is sensuous is the means for the liberation of the
soul and for union with God. Joyful contemplation is the
goal of the struggle which brings the spirit to supremacy.
But he also knows the by-ways of the monkish life in its
arrogance and inactivity, and in the disordering, suicidal
consequences of an overstrained monasticism.
8. Chrysostom1 combines appreciation of the active life in
the world, and a combating of the overestimate of monasticism,
with high respect for monastic contemplativeness. Among
his Discourses (which are about a thousand in number) there
are many which deal with themes from the sphere of morals,
and indeed his significance lies more in ethics than in
dogmatics. He extols the virtue of prayer with particular
emphasis: “ As soon as any one stretches out his hands to
heaven, he withdraws his heart immediately from all earthly
things, and is transported in the spirit into the future life.”
“ Prayer is a haven for those who have been driven hither and
thither by the tempest, an anchor for those who have been
tossed by the billows, a staff for the stumbler, a treasure for
the poor, a security for the rich, a help against sickness, and
a protection for health, etc.” 12
Among the virtues he particularly celebrates mercy, and in

accordance with the development which the thinking of the
Church had taken in this connection, he glorifies the sin-
forgiving power of alms. In a homily on repentance, he says:
“ Mercy is the queen of the virtues; she quickly raises men
into the air of heaven, and she is the best intercessor. Mercy
has powerful wings; she cleaves the air, rises above the moon,
soars above the radiant sun, and ascends to the very heights of
heaven. But even there she does not stop, but wings her way
through the very heavens, hastens through the troops of angels
and the choir of the archangels and all the higher powers, and
presents herself before the throne of the King Himself. Learn
1 Neander, Der h. Chrysos, u. die Kirche bes. des Orients in dessen Zeitalter,
3 Ausg. 1848.
2 Or. de consubstantiali, contra Anomocos, vii.
this from the Holy Scripture, which says: ‘ Cornelius, thy prayer
and thine alms have come up before the face of God.’ This
expression, ‘ before the face of God/ means that if thou hast
however many sins, but hast alms for an intercession, then
fear not. For none of the higher powers is opposed to alms;
it demands the debt, and carries its manuscript in hand. For
the Lord Himself says: ‘ What ye have done to one of the
least of my brethren, ye have done it to me.’ With whatever
sins thou art then at any time burdened, thy mercy surpasses
them all.” 1 Again he says even more strongly in the same
course of sermons: “ How to-day there begins a business in
alms, for we see the prisoners and the poor. God has opened
such an annual fair for us. Buy the works of righteousness
cheap, in order to realize them in future at a high value, if it
is permissible to call the recompense a valuation. Here we
buy righteousness cheap for an insignificant bit of bread, for
a paltry bit of clothing, for a cup of cold water. As long
as the market lasts, let us buy alms; or more correctly, let us
purchase salvation with alms.” 123 Again in another place he
says: “ Throw the poor man a coin, and thou hast reconciled
the judge. In truth, the philanthropic judge lets himself be
gained by money, which he, indeed, does not take himself, but
which the poor receive. Repentance without alms is dead,
and wants wings. Repentance is not able to fly, unless it has
the pinion of alms.”
Chrysostom likes to dwell upon the nothingness of earthly
greatness and of earthly joys, the foolishness and prejudicial
effects of the passions, and similar subjects. As he holds the
priestly office in high estimation in his Περί 'Ιερωσννης (Be
sacerdotis, 1. vi.), he is at the same time a great friend of
monastic asceticism in his Προς τους πόλεμοΰντας τοΐς επϊ το
μόναζαν είσάηουσιν (Adv. oppugnatores vitee monasticae, lib.
iii.). In his Περί παρθενίας he defends marriage against its
despisers, but extols virginity as better, and as an angelic
state (c. 10 ff.). W e may also mention his Ε ις νεωτέραν
χηρεύσασαν (Ad viduam juniorem de non iterando conjugio,
lib. ii.). To him monasticism is “ philosophy.” This ten
dency dominated the age.
9. Isidore o f Pelusmmz (t c. 450 ) is a representative of
the better Greek monasticism. More than 2000 of his
1 Horn. iii. 1. Uhlhorn, a. a. O. p. 271 f.

* Horn. iii. 6. Uhlhorn, a. a. O. p. 272.
3 Moller in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 vii. 361 f.
letters are still preserved, and moral questions are frequently
dealt witli in them. Ketirement from the world, voluntary
poverty, and abstinence, after the example of John the Baptist,
is, according to Isidore, the basis of the true practical philo
sophy of the Gospel. In the pursuits and turmoil of daily
life, the soul does not find leisure for knowing God. The
greatest possible absence of needs is the way to the true
freedom. Thus monasticism and practical Christianity are
practically identical; ή του Θεόν βασιλεία ή μοναχική εστι
πολιτεία ούΒενι μεν υποκύπτουσα πάθει, μετεωρα Βε
φρονούσα και υπερουράνια κατορθουσα. Sins are so much
the worse in fact, in this state of perfection. — Theodw'ct
(Ί* 458) in his φιλόθεος ιστορία ή ασκητική πολιτεία
{religiosa historia) has written biographies of thirty monks and
hermits in order to glorify the ascetic life, and he concludes
with a discourse upon divine and holy love {λόγος περί τής
θείας και άγιας αγάπης), in the power of which the ascetics
practised their great austerity, and worked numerous
miracles.
10. John Klimakus (t 606) was abbot of a monastery on
Mount Sinai. In his Κ λίμαξ του παραΒείσου {scala paradisi)
lie describes in the sense of monasticism the various inner
states and processes by which the soul attains from renuncia
tion of the world through silence to union with the divine
light-nature. The description proceeds in the form of thirty
Steps of the Ladder, corresponding to the thirty years of
Jesus up to His baptism, by which this process is repre
sented. The treatment does not exhibit any logical progress ;
but virtues and vices, commandments and counsels, are
discussed together.— About the same time the Abbot Dorotheus
composed in Palestine twenty-four ethical and ascetic treatises
for monks.— The monk and hermit John Mosaics (t c. 620),
in his “ Spiritual Meadow ” {Λειμών πνευματικός, pratum
spirituale), in 219 chapters, relates the wonderful deeds
and experiences, and the virtuous examples of monks and
anchorites whom he had learned to know during his travels,
or of whom he had heard. It shows us a fantastic world,
such as grew up on the soil of the monastic and anchorite
life, especially of Egypt. This, however, was in accordance
with the taste of the time, and it was. in accord with
the romantic descriptions already given by Jerome. And
another instance of it is given by Sophronius,1 Patriarch
of Jerusalem (t 638), a friend of Moscus, in his life of Mary
the Egyptian (βιος Μαρίας αΐ^υπτίας). This Mary was a
contemporary of Sophronius, who had been a public sinner in
Alexandria, but was afterwards smitten by a wonderful ray
of divine grace in the church dedicated to the honour of the
holy cross. Thereafter she lived forty-eight years in a forest
on the Jordan, far from all human society, and practising
the greatest austerity. She is described by Sophronius
according to the account of Zosimus (vir quidem a puero
doctus loqui et agere divina), a monk belonging to a
monastery on the Jordan, who met her in the desert by
divine arrangement a year before her death. He brought
her heavenly food and buried her body, in which office a lion
gave help by scraping out her grave. Zosimus learned the
history of her life and conversion from Mary’s own mouth.
She is described as a zealous worshipper “ of the holy mother
of God ” the “ sempiternal virgin, the chaste, the wholly pure
and immaculate in body and soul,” to whose grace she owed
it that she “ was vouchsafed the life-giving vision of the
cross,” and to whom, during her solitary stay in the desert,
she always fled for aid amid the internal conflicts occasioned
by the remembrance of her earlier life. “ Often she lay
weeping and mourning day and night on the earth till she
saw herself surrounded by a light, and then she again had
rest.”
11. Maximus the Confessor2 lived somewhat later (t 662).
He gave up his high public office at the Court of Constanti
nople in order to become a monk from enthusiasm for
this higher life of “ divine philosophy.” With inflexible
dyothelete orthodoxy he combined a speculative faculty and
holy moral austerity. Of his many writings, one class
belongs to the ethico - ascetic sphere. They are partly
1 Cf. Nirschl, a. a. 0 . iii. 1885, p. 580 ff.
2 Maximus is treated of by Baur, Die christl. L. v. d. Dreieinigk. ii.
Domer in his History of the Person of Christ (Entwicklungsgesch. d. L. v. d.
Person Christi, ii.). Gass, Die Mystik des Nikol. Kabasilas, pp. 49 if., 154 if.
Christlieb, Leben u. Lehre des Skot. Erig. p. 104 if. Huber, Die Philos,
der K V V . p. 341 if. See especially Wagenmann in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 xx.
114 if. Nirschl, a. a. a p. 593 if.
ethical tracts, as his A d Joann. Cubicularium de caritate ; and
his A d eundem de tristitia secundum Deum ; and especially
his Λόγος ασκητικός (liber ad pietatem exercens), which treats
of the principal duties of the spiritual life : love of God and
of our neighbours, denial of the world and of self. This
work is reckoned among the best that has been preserved
from the ascetic literature of the Greek Church. An
appendix to this treatise is formed by his Κεφάλαια ττερί
της τελείας αγάπης καί άλλων αρετών εκατόν καί δέκα
(capita de caritate). Mention may also be made of his
400 Sentences, containing mostly ethical matter, as well
as other similar collections (both of his own and of others),
entitled Κεφάλαια θεολογικά ήτοι εκλογαϊ εκ διαφόρων
βιβλίω ν των τε καθ' ημάς καϊ των θύραθεν, divided into seventy-
one sections (λόγοι, sermones). Such collections of moral
Sentences were frequently formed in that later time, and were
especially used in monasteries. According to Maximus, the
goal of man is θεωσις κατα χάριν, deification by grace ; on
the one hand by the gracious coming down (κατάβασις) of
God, and correspondingly on the other hand by the proper
moral ascension (άνάβασις) of man to God,— an ascension out
of the dominion of the ττάθη into which he has sunk, by
practice and gnosis to the knowledge of God and to the life
in God, to άττάθεια. This ethico-mystical union with God
is realized by faith which effects the immediate union
(άμεσος ενωσις) with God, from which standpoint the
Christian life consists in the observance of the divine
commandments and in the imitation of Christ (μίμησις
Χ ριστού Ιη σού), and is completed in love. Love is the
greatest of all virtues, the principal thing in the divine
image and in likeness to God ; it is, on the one hand, the
passive feeling of ecstasy in reference to the loved one
(7τάσχειν εκστασιν ττρός το ε ρ α σ το ν); and, on the other
hand, it is living energy which leads to God and manifests
itself in single activities.1 In Maximus there is united the
ascetic mysticism of the Egyptian and other monasticism,
which had its roots in Stoicism, and the speculative
mysticism of Dionysius the Areopagite, which had its root
in Neo-Platonism.
1 Cf. Wagenmann, a. a. 0^.
12. Dionysius Areopagita,1 in writings which belong to
the fourth century, represents the speculative mysticism
which had its root in Neo-Platonism (Tieρϊ της ιεραρχίας.
Π epi της Εκκλησιαστικής ιεραρχίας. Περί μυστικής Θεολογίας).
To the chain of beings descending from the divine essence,
there corresponds the ascending movement up to union with
God. It proceeds according to the order of purification,
enlightenment, and completion of the lower beings always
through the higher being. In order to bring man back
from his fall to union with God, the divine has entered in
Christ into human reality, and the human in Him has been
elevated to God in order from God to raise human nature
also to the mystical union. This is realized in the indi
viduals by the consecrations of the Church, purification and
enlightenment (baptism), communion (σύναξις) and anointing
with sacred oil. For, the Church comes here into con
sideration essentially as a liturgical institution. This specu
lation thus seeks to connect the process of subjective
assimilation to God and union with God, or of elevation
to the intuition of the One and Essential, with the order of
worship in the Church; and it thereby seeks to overpass the
ancient principle of cognition by the Neo-Platonic principle
of real mystical experiences and elevations, and thus to
attain to participation in the essential world of the divine.
This Neo-Platonic mode of thinking was transmitted by
Dionysius to the subsequent theology of the Middle Ages,
and even to later times.
13. John o f Damascus (t c. 760) was the last theologian
of the Greek Church. Besides his 'Ιερά παράλληλα, he
composed a very extensive collection of Sentences, mostly
moral, but also partly dogmatic in their contents, as well
as several tractates on the eight principal sins (περί των οκτώ
τής πονηριάς πνευμάτων, de octo vitiis), on the virtues and
vices (περί αρετών καί κακιών), and on the sacred fasts
(περί τών άηίων νηστειών). The one-sided intellectualism
of the Greek theology, which had ultimately passed into the
camp of the Neo-Platonic mysticism, had as its obverse the
1 J. G. B. Engelhardt, Die angebl. Schriften des Ar. Dion. ] 823. K. Vogt,
Neoplatonism, u. Christenth., Berl. 1836. Baur, Dreieinigk. ii. 207 ff.
Moller in Herzog, 2 Aufl. iii. 616 ff. Nirschl, ii. 131 ff.
VOL. I. M
legal externalization of Christian'morality, and the worldli
ness and worldly implication of the Church had as their
obverse the ascetic flight from the w orld; and by this ideal
the life of the Christians and of the servants of the Church
was judged and regulated in the world.
The theology of the Greek Church having proceeded from
a one-sided accentuation of the intellectual factor, could not
but give to the sphere of the moral a parallel independent
position along with the predominantly intellectually appre
hended faith, to which the 71>ώσις formed the higher stage.
Ethics sought its grounding in the mystical mental state and
mode of thinking instead of in the moral nature of faith;
and thus it came to assign a high position to asceticism and
monasticism. In comparison with this, the accentuation of
the moral duty of active life according to the vocation of the
individual in the world, as it is found in Chrysostom, could
be the less carried out as its semi-Pelagianism relegated it
from the outset to the individual’s own doing, and conse
quently the distinction between ordinary and extraordinary
doing was always ready to take from. The mystical root of
this morality gave it a subjective character to which the
fellowship of worship formed the only counterpoise. It was
otherwise in the West.
§ 3 6 . The Ethics o f the Western Church in their distinction
from the Ethics o f the Greek Church The Period o f its
Foundation.
1. Irenceus.
T he Western Church shares with the Greek Church in the

early obscuration of the Pauline knowledge of justification in
its significance for Ethics. Thereby the moral relation of
man’s conduct towards God lost its conditionedness through
the relationship of justification, and it thus assumed a false
independence and the character of legality. But its Ethics
are distinguished from the Greek Ethics by the more practical
and more sober spirit of the West, and especially of Borne.
In consequence of this, it is further distinguished by the
stress laid upon the will and upon action, in place of the one
sided importance attached to knowledge and contemplative
reflection in the Greek Church, as well as by the stronger
accentuation of the grace of redemption by which there was
also produced a stronger consciousness of the antithesis of the
new Christian thinking and life to the pre-Christian heathen
life and thought. This grace of redemption had its place and
the organ of its activity in the organism of the Church, and
in consequence morality appears here to be determined by
objective and ecclesiastical conditions in a higher degree than
in the Greek Church. This determination of morality by the
Church does not proceed from it merely as a fellowship for
worship, but as a religious and moral fellowship of life, or
as a Kingdom of God. The more decided accentuation of
the new Christian principle of the moral life which corre
spondingly showed itself, was undoubtedly purchased with a
certain ecclesiastical legal externalization. After Irenseus,
the mediator between the East and West, Tertullian was
the most prominent representative of this Western spirit
in theology and also in ethics during the period of the
founding of the Eoman Church. Cyprian modified the
views of Tertullian and translated them into Catholic
form. Tertullian and Cyprian were followed by Minucius
Eelix (?), Lactantius, and Zeno of Verona.
1. The natural soil o f Rome made its influence felt in the

moral reflection and the ethical development within the
Western Church, as well as in other spheres of thought. In
the ancient Greek moral philosophy, and also in the theo
logical treatment of Ethics within the Greek Church, thinking
had always a preponderance over acting, as is shown, for
instance, in the importance assigned to γνώσις among the
Alexandrians, and by the contemplative tendency of the Greek
monasticism later on. But while this is the case in the East,
the Koman mode of contemplating things (as, for instance, in
Cicero’s De officiis) always recognises actio as at least fully
justified along with scientia ; aod action becomes an essential
factor in virtue, while the idea of certain merely theoretical
virtues is rejected.1 This tendency now passes into the
Christian Ethics of the Western Church ; and if it is not yet
manifested in the Greek Irenseus when he became connected
with the West, it shows itself clearly in Tertullian.
2. The fundamental thought of Irenm is 2 is the Kingdom
of God in its advancing development in historical con
tinuity, and within the one Church, in harmony with itself.
Thus he accentuates, in his emphatic opposition to the gnosis
of Marcion, the unity of the Old and New Testaments in the
historical progress of salvation,3 and consequently also the
unity of the revelation of Christ with the moral contents
1 E.g. Cicero, De off. i. 43, 153. Virtutis laus omnis in actione consistit,
i. 6. 19.
2 Erbkam, De s. Irensei principiis ethicis, Regiom. 1856. Bohringer, ii.
Ziegler, Iren. u. s. w., Berlin 1871. Lipsius, Ueber die Zeit des Iren. u. die
Entstehung der altkath. Kirche, in Sybel’s Histor. Ztschr. xxviii. p. 241 ff.
8 Especially in Book IV. of the work Adv. hcereses ; e.g. iv. 9. 3 : una enirn
solus et unus deus— autem— non pauci gradus, qui ducunt hominem ad Deum,
of the Old Testament law. In consequence, Christianity
appeared in contrast to the Old Testament Law of externality
and slavery, as the new Law, the new Law of love and
liberty.1 This conception of Christianity as law subserved
at the same time the necessary opposition to the Antinomian-
ism of the Gnostics, which, in putting the internality of the
pneumatic state or of the disposition into a false opposition
to action, declared action to be indifferent, and thereby
annulled all objective difference between good and evil.2 But,
in fact, while Irenseus sought to establish the historical
connection of the New Testament revelation with the pre-
Christian revelation, he wandered into the path of that false
mode of generalization which, through the influence, of the
ancient Stoic way of thinking, had gained entrance into
theology since Justin Martyr, and he thereby neutralized or
at least endangered the specific conception of revelation. The
Decalogue is likewise to him only the natural moral law
(iv. 16. 3) which the Patriarchs possessed (the naturalia, et
communia prcecepta written in the heart), and which, having
come to be forgotten in Egypt, was on that account
positively established in the Decalogue and renewed by
Christ as a law of inwardness and liberty,3 while He set
aside the ceremonial law imposed upon the Jews. This
seems to amount to holding that the universalism of the New
Testament grace is to be regarded as identical writh the
universalism of that law of nature and its natural way of
salvation.4 Irenseus undoubtedly deceived himself regarding
this agreement; for the highest commandment of the Old
1 IV. 9, 2 : major est legislatio quae in libertatem, quam quae data est in
servitudem, et ideo non in unam gentem, sed in totum mundum diffusa est.
iv. 12. 4 : an inner law. iii. 10. 2 ; 13. 3 ; 33. 14. iv. 13. 2, 3 : a law of
liberty, iv. 13. 2 : etenim lex quippe servis posita, per ea quae foris erant
corporalia, animam erudiebat,— verbum autem liberans animam et per ipsam
corpus voluntarie emundari docuit, iv. 13. 3 : non dissolventis sed adimplentis
et extendentis in nobis, tanquam si aliquis dicat, majorem libertatis operationem
et pleniorem erga liberatorem nostrum infixam nobis subjectionem et affectionem.
2 I. 25. 4 ; ii. 32. The principle of the Carpocratians : sola humana opinione
negotia mala et bona.
3 IV . 9. 2 ; 13. 1. Cf. Diestel, Geschichte des A . T. in der christl. Kirche,
Jena 1869, p. 59 f.
4 Cf. iv. 13. 1 : et quia dominus naturalis legis, per quae homo justificatur,
qufe etiam ante legis dationem custodiebant qui fide justificabantur et placebant
Deo [Heb. xi. 6] non dissolvit, iv. 13. 4 : quia naturalia omnia praecepta sunt
and New Testament legislation is in his view love to God
(iv. 12. 3). Along with this, however, we have his emphatic
accentuation of grace and of the new spirit of regeneration
which has its place and operation in the Church. For, ubi
ecclesia ibi et spiritus Dei, et ubi spiritus Dei, ibi ecclesia et
omnis gratia. This spirit, however, is a spirit of regeneration
and of renewal1 which realizes itself in the process of an
advancing development going on to eternity (iv. 38. 3), and
to the perfect vision of God, combined with αφθαρσία and
the nearness of God. Thus in connection with these views
the (chiliastic) eschatology of Irenseus has also its moral
significance. W ith Irenseus then, as in the Greek form of
doctrine, the specifically Christian element proceeds side by
side with traditional moral views without the two being
inwardly connected with each other; only that what is
specifically Christian receives a more energetic accentuation
in Irenseus, and is viewed more in connection with the history
of the Kingdom of God. Both sides, are likewise found
represented in Tertullian.
§ 37. The Ethics o f the Western Church in the time

o f its Foundation.
2. Tertullian.
Tertullian2 represents both the thought of universality and

the principle of historical continuity in the Roman spirit3
which was wont to accentuate before everything else the
validity of law. Tertullian wrote a very large number of
communia illis et nobis, iv. 15. 1 : naturalia praecepta quae ab initio infixa
dedit hominibus.
1 III. 17. 1 : voluntatem patris operans in ipsis et renovans eos a vetustate in
novitatem Christi, v. 9. 1 : spiritus patris emundat hominem et sublevat in
vitam Dei.
2 Neander, Antignosticus, Geist des Tertullian u. Einl. in s. Schriften, Berlin
(1825) 1849. Hesselberg, Tert.’s Lehre, i. Leben u. Schriften, Dorp. 1848.
Mohler, Patrologie, herausg. v. Reithmayr, Regens, i. 1840, pp. 701 - 790.
Nielsen, Tert.’s Ethik (in Danish), Kjobenhavn 1859. Bbhringer, iii. 1, 2.
Hauck, Tert.’s Leben u. Schriften, Erl. 1877. Ludwig, Tert.’s Ethik,
Lpz. 1885. Hauber, Tert.’s Kampf gegen die 2 Ehe, Stud. u. Krit. 1845,
p. 617 if. Noldechen, Tert. von der Keuschheit. Stud. u. Krit, 1888,
2, p. 331 if.
8 Kahnis, Lehre v heil. Geist, p. 287.
ethical monographs, both before and during liis montanistic
period. Their moral austerity becomes intensified into a
rigorous severity in the later period; 1 but these writings
present otherwise no essential difference. The following
works were written before he became a Montanist: Apolo
geticum (which contains much ethical matter); A d martyres ;
De Spectaculis (against taking part in public heathen shows) ;
Be idololatria (against taking any part in anything heathen,
even in the preparation of heathen idols) ; Be patientia ; Be
oratione (explanation of the Lord’s Prayer); Be poenitentia ;
A d uxorem (exhortation to his wife not to marry again after
his death because of the questionableness of a second marriage,
with the celebrated description of the happiness of Christian
marriage, that Church in miniature, ii. 8. 9 *) ; and Be cultu
feminarum. The following writings belong to his montanistic
period : Be cormxa militis (the crowning of soldiers and the
profession of a soldier generally incompatible with the
Christian confession); Be fuga in persecutione (flight in perse
cution is not allowable); Scorpiace (on the duty of confession
in persecutions); Be virginibus velandis (virgins ought never to
appear unveiled at public worship); Be exhortatione castitatis
and Be monogamia (unconditional rejection of second marriage
from the point of view that marriage is only a satisfaction of
the sensuous nature); Be pudicitia (rejects the milder prin
ciples set forth in the De poenitentia; and holds that the
Church has not the right to forgive deadly sins); and Be
jejuniis (defence of the practice of the Montanists with regard
to fasting against the Psychici, i.e. the Catholics).
With proud self-feeling which rises even to scorn, he
contrasts the Christian morality with the heathen mode of
life. In heathendom we have the world of immorality, in
Christianity the world of morality; in the former a morality
of words, in the latter a morality of deeds.8 The principle of 1 3
2
1 The division and chronological sequenco of his writings is not certainly

ascertained. See Uhlhorn, Fundamenta chronologic Tertulliane®, Gott.
1852. Neander, Hesselberg, and Hauck, ut supra. .Bonwetsch, Die Schriften
T .’s nach der Zeit ihrer Abfassung, Bonn 1878.
2 Unde sufficiamus ad enarrandam felicitatem eius matrimonii, quod ecclesia
conciliat et confirmat oblatio et obsignat benedictio, angeli renuntiant pater
rato habet ?
3 Apol. 46, 50.
Christian morality is the will of God, and 'particularly as
manifested in the progress of His. historical revelation: first
as natural law, then as the Old Testament law, thereafter on
the New Testament stage, and now through the Paraclete.1
Por as the Old Testament law only commands what the law
of nature testifies to,1
2 there is no contradiction between the
law of Christ and that of the Old Testament (against M arcion);
only that the law of Christ not merely commands or forbids
the act, but also the will, and thus it perfects the law of the
Old Testament.34 In like manner, the revelation of the Para
clete does not indicate really any alteration of the regula
fidei which remains unaltered, but the perfecting progress of
the disciplina} The development of the moral order of life
thus stands in connection with the progress of the Kingdom
of God.56 While in the Greek theology the accentuation of
the law was conditioned by the one - sidedly intellectual
apprehension of faith, and bore in consequence of this a more
subjective and individual character in itself, in the West it is
the Boman spirit which presses towards the moral order of
life, and more particularly towards the social order of the life
of the community.
Now as the revelation of grace in Christ is a new principle
of life, Tertullian demands that it shall embrace and permeate
the whole of life. But instead of accentuating the positive
relationship of the Christian spirit to the life of the world,
and laying stress upon the permeation and appropriation of
the world by the Church, Tertullian, in view of the complete
moral corruption of the heathen world and the dangers which
1 De virg. vel. 1 : Niliil sine aetate cst, omnia tempus exspectant.— Adspice
ipsam creaturam paulatim ad fructum promoveri.— Sic et justitia (nam idem
deus justi tue et creaturae) primo fuit in rudimentis, natura deum metuens.
Dehinc per legem et prophetas promovit in infantiam, dehinc per evangelium
efferbuit in juventutem, nunc per paracletum componitur in maturitatem.
2 Adv. Mare. iv. 16 ; De virg. vel. 16 ; cf. Diestel, Geschichte des A. T. in
der chr. Kirche, p. 60.
3 De pcenit. 3 ; De orat. 7 ; De pat. 6 ; Adv. Mare. 2. 19, 20. So also
the App. Constitut. vi. 23.
4 De virg. vel. 1 : Regula quidem fidei una omnino est, sola immobilis et
irreformabilis--------cetera jam disciplinas et conversationis admittunt novitatem
correctionis operante scilicet et proficiente usque in finem gratia dei, etc.
6 De prsescr. 13 : Jesum Christum praedicasse novam legem et novam pro
missionem regni coelorum.
he saw growing out of contact with this world for the moral
state of the Christians and of the community, lays all em
phasis upon the opposition to the world. In this he was
determined by the tendency of his own severe nature, which
was inclined to pay no regard to consequences, and which
tended towards the fanatical. In all things, Christians ought
to show that they are governed by a new spirit, even down
to the most trivial externalities of life and its appearances.
For life ought to flow in one current. Thus he represents
the principle of separation from heathen society, and always
the more unreservedly. This separation applies to eating
and drinking, to ornaments and clothing, to the use of
garlands, to the visiting of shows and plays, to trade and
conduct, to the discharge of magisterial offices, to military
service, etc. And as the Church did not follow him entirely
on his path, and did not subject itself unconditionally to the
revelations of law by the Paraclete, he took a sectarian
position towards the world even in opposition to the Church.
This is especially shown in his writing Be pudicitia, and in
his attitude against Callistus in Pome, who, according to
Tertullian, widened the bounds of church discipline far too
much, as he permitted full reception again into the Church
in the case of those who had been guilty of sins even
against the Seventh Commandment; so that of the three old
capital sins: idolatry, murder, and adultery, only the first
two still maintained their earlier position. It was by
psedagogic and ecclesiastical political reasons that Callistus
had been guided in the interest of the universal vocation of
the Church, while Tertullian represented the inexorability of
the moral principle. Thus Tertullian maintained the inalien
able truth that the Christian life is a new and independent
thing, because it has to be the witness of the new principle of
the Christian spirit. And this truth is set forth by him in
such a way that Christianity appears only as the judgment
and not as the redemption of the world, and has its task in
and on the world, whereby the universality of the nature of
its Kingdom is overlooked. Moreover, this view is held in
connection with the position that the new moral life is not
immediately derived from the new relationship of grace to
God in Christ; rather were regida fidei and disciplina put as
two independent legal quantities beside one another, and,
moreover, the disciplina is grounded upon the sporadic revela-
tions of montanistic prophecy.
The characteristic of Tertullian given above, and the general

judgments indicated, may be illustrated by the following
passages from his works. His view of Idolatry is thus
expressed in his Dc idololatria, c. 1 : Principale crimen generis
humani, summus seculi reatus, tota causa judicii idololatria,
c. 3 : Idololatria omnis circa omne idolum famulatus et
servitus, inde et omnis idoli artifex eiusdem et unius est
criminis. On the incompatibility of idolatry and the making
of idols with taking part in Christian worship, he says, c. 4. 7 :
Christianus ab idolis in ecclesiam venit, de adversaria officina
in domum Dei, attollit ad Deum patrem manus matres idolorum,
his manibus adorat quae foris adversus Deum adorantur, eas
manus admovet corpori domini, quae daemoniis corpori con
ferunt ! Adleguntur in ordinem ecclesiasticum artifices
idolorum. Against trading in incense and beasts for sacrifices,
c. 11. 12: Quo ore Christianus thurarius, si per templa
transibit, fumantes aras despuit et exsufflabit, quibus ipse
prospexit? On fellowship with the heathen, c. 14: Licet
convivere cum ethnicis, commori non licet. Convivamus cum
omnibus, conlaetemur ex communione naturae, non super
stitionis. Pares anima sumus, non disciplina, compossessores
mundi, non erroris. The Christian may take part in private
heathen feasts which are not connected with idolatry, but not
in sacrificial feasts (c. 15. 16); but the Christian is not to
wear purple and gold, c. 17. 18: Purpura vel cetera insignia
dignitatum et potestatum insertae dignitate et potestatibus
idololatriae ab initio dicata habent profanationis suae maculam.
— On crowning the head with garlands, we have his De corona
militis. Although the words in the Apologet. 37: Hesterni
sumus et vestra omnia implevimus—castra ipsa, are rhetorical,
yet it is evident from them (cf. also c. 42: Navigamus et nos
vobiscum et vobiscum militamus) that not a few Christians
were found among the soldiers. So much the more necessary
was the instruction of them. Tertullian gives it in his own
way. In c. 11, he appears, indeed, not to forbid the profession
of a soldier, if a Christian was a soldier before he became
a Christian (si quos militia pneventos fides posterior invenit,
alia conditio est, as in the case of the centurion of Caper
naum and others); but then he requires the giving up of
it: dum tamen suscepta fide atque signata aut deserendum
statim sit, ut a multis actum, aut omnibus modis cavillandum,
ne quid adversus Deum committatur, qute jaec ex militia
permittuntur, aut novissime perpetiendum pro Deo. Dor
there were, in his view, too many idolatrous usages connected
with this profession; and he* even held the use of garlands or
wreaths as not permissible, as they were applied to heathen
festivities and such like (c. 2). It cannot be said that it is
not forbidden by Scripture, and that it is therefore allowed,
blather: “ what is not expressly allowed is forbidden”
(c. 2, extr.). In.addition to this, there is the tradition and
custom of the Church, which are to be held in honour because
they are an expression of what is conformable to reason
(c. 4). This is a canon that is regulative with Tertullian,
namely, the canon of original reason or naturalness. Again,
to wear flowers upon the head is contrary to their natural
destination (c. 5), and has its origin in heathenism (c. 7).
It is not becoming for the Christian as such to be a
soldier (c. 11). “ He has sworn his divine oath of allegiance—
how can he put a human one above it ? Christ has forbidden
the use of the sword;— is the Christian to order arrestment,
torture, and the punishment of death ? How can he take the
word of command from a captain when he has already received
it from God ? The Christian nowhere becomes anything else
than a Christian. The position of a soldier, however, requires
that from him. Fixed faith, which always remains the same,
knows nothing of compulsory relationships. There is no com
pulsion to sinning for those for whom there is only a com
pulsion not to sin.” The garland is also connected with other
offices. “ One should either flee from offices in order not to
fall into trangressions, or suffer the martyr’s death in order
to break with offices.” This is the necessary consequence of
the standpoint that makes the words of Christ which refer
to the internal attitude of the disposition directly into a law
for the external orders of life,— The ShowTs and Plays (Be
spectaculis) stand in connection with the heathen religion;
the demons take delight in them (c. 11); they are therefore
not suited for the Christians who have renounced idols (c. 13);
for “ the world belongs to God, but the things of this world to
the devil ” (c. 15). The plays excite the passions (c. 16) and
are schools of vice; even the public prostitutes are produced
upon the stage as sacrifices to the public licentiousness (at the
feast of the Floralia): Plus miserae in praesentia feminarum,
quibus solis latebant, per quae omnis aetatis, omnis dignitatis
ora transducuntur, etc. Taceo de reliquis, ea quae in tenebris
et in spelunqis.suis delitescere decebat, ne diem contaminarent.
Erubescat senatus, erubescant ordines omnes, etc. (c. 17).
The art of wrestling is likewise devilish. The first who threw
man to the ground was the devil (c. 18). Plays are to be
reprobated, for God loves the truth and not a deception
(c. 23). Again, all that is not of God, or that displeases
God, is of the devil (c. 24). How can the Christian hasten
from the congregation of God to the congregation of the devil ?
(c. 26). The spirit has nobler pleasures and spectacles
(c. 29): the revelations of God, the life in God, etc.: Hae
voluptates, haec spectacula Christianorum sancta, perpetua,
gratuita; in his tibi ludos circenses interpretare, cursus seculi
intuere etc. metas consummationis exspecta, societates
ecclesiarum defende, ad signum Dei suscitare, ad tubam angeli
erigere, ad martyrii palmas gloriare. Vis autem et sanguinis
aliquid ? habes Christi.— Tertullian has often treated of the
dress and adornment o f women. Women ought to consider
that sin and all misery came into the world through their sex.
De habitu muliebri (c. 1 ): Tu es diaboli janua, tu es arboris
illius resignatrix, tu es divinie legis prima desertrix, etc.
Wherefore this unnaturalness, this ornamentation, etc. ?
c. 2. 5 -9 : non placet Deo quod non ipse produxit, nisi si
non potuit purpureas et ierinas oves nasci jubere. Si potuit,
ergo jam noluit; quod Deus noluit, utrique non licet fingi
(c. 8). On adorning the person, colouring the hair, etc., he
thus speaks: Quantum a vestris disciplinis et professionibus
aliena sunt, quam indigna nomine Christiano, faciem fictam
gestare, quibus simplicitas omnis indicitur, effigie mentiri
quibus lingua non licet, appetere quod datum non sit etc.
(De cultu feminarum, c. 5). Against elaborate coiffures he
says (c. 7 ): Mirum quod non contra domini praecepta con
tenditur : ad mensuram neminem sibi adjicere posse pronunti
atum est. On excess in ornamentation (c. 9. 13): Nescio an
manus spathalio (a sort of armlet) circumdari solita in duritia
catenae stupescere sustineat. Timeo cervicem, ne margaritarum
et smaragdorum laqueis occupata locum spathae (a broad
tw o-edged sword) non det. Quare, benedictae, meditemur
duriora et non sentiemus, relinquamus laetiora et non desidera
bimus— projiciamus ornamenta terrena si coelestia optamus—
ne dilexeritis aurum— tempora Christianorum semper et nunc
vel maxime non auro sed ferro transiguntur; stolae martyriorum
praeparuntur. Tertullian in his writings of the Montanist
period {De exhortatione castitatis, De monogamia, and Do
virginibus velandis) judges more harshly of marriage, second
marriage, and celibacy, than in his earlier pre-Montanist
treatise, A d uxorem, in which he describes the happiness of
Christian marriage. In his Advers. Marcion. i. 29, and in
his De anima, c. 27, he defends marriage: Natura veneranda
est non erubescenda. Concubitum libido, non condicio foedavit.
Excessus, non status est impudicus. Ad uxor. i. 2 : Non
quidem abnuimus conjunctionem viri ac feminae, benedictam a
domino etc. But here already he extols (i. 4) the celibacy of
the sorores quae maritis sanctitatem anteponunt,— Deo sunt
puellae, cum illo vivunt, cum illo sermocinantur, illum diebus
et noctibus tractant etc. Sic aeternum sibi bonum domini
occupaverunt, ac jam in terris non nubendo de familia angelica
deputantur. He places the state of a widow almost even
higher (Ad uxor. i. 8 ); for although in virginibus integritas
solida et tota sanctitas,— tamen vidua habet aliquid operosius,
quia facile est non appetere quod nescias, in respect to
second marriage, we have passages in his Be monog. 3, 8, 9, 11,
13, to the effect that although the relative words of Paul were
to be understood as a permission, yet if Christ abrogated
what Moses permitted (namely, divorce), cur non et paracletus
abstulerit quod Paulus indulsit ? In reference to fasting, he
represents the rigid Montanistic practice: Arguunt nos, quod
jejunia propria custodiamus, quod stationes plerumque in
vesperam producamus, quod etiam xerophagias observemus,
siccantes cibum ab omni carne etc. (De jejun. c. 1). Keference
may also be made to Tertullian’s treatise on prayerf in which
he gives a short exposition of the Lord's Prayer, that
“ breviarium totius evangelii ” as he calls it, and in which he
prefers to interpret the fourth petition spiritually according to
John vi. 33. He closes his exposition with a series of obser
vations and directions about prayer. When any one prays, he
ought not to cherish anger against a brother (c. 11); he should
approach prayer with a pure spirit; for it is a contradiction to
pray with washed hands but with an impure spirit. “ This is
true purity, not that which so many zealously practise in a
superstitious manner who use water at every prayer, although
they have just come from a washing of the whole body."
“ Besides, the hands which are once washed with the whole
body in Christ (namely, in baptism) are pure enough” (c. 13).
W e spread out the hands in praying, thus representing the
suffering of Christ, and we also confess Christ in prayer (c. 14).
To put off the upper garment before offering prayer, as the
heathen do, is a superstitious* practice (c. 15); as is the habit of
sitting down like the heathen after prayer, as is mentioned in
the Shepherd of Hermas (c. 16). W e ought only to raise our
hands moderately in prayer and not to lift up the look too
confidently, and we should moderate the voice; for God hears
even those who do not speak (c. 17). To withhold the kiss
of peace from the brethren after prayer when one is fasting, is
reprehensible. “ Can a prayer be complete with the refusal of
the sacred kiss ? ” (c. 18). According to tradition, we ought to
keep ourselves from kneeling as well as from every sign of fear
only on tlie day of the'resurrection of the Lord. On the fast
days and on the Station Days (Wednesday and Friday), however,
there is no prayer without kneeling and the other customary
marks of humiliation (c. 23). “ W ith regard to the times for
prayer, there is nothing prescribed, but only to pray at all
times and in all places.” But it is never superfluous to observe
certain hours, such as “ the third, sixth, and ninth hour, which
are also mentioned in Scripture. In addition to these there
are the regular prayers, which we are also due without special
exhortation, at the beginning of the day and of the night. How
ever, to enjoy food and to take a bath before one has offered up
a prayer, is not becoming for believers ” (c. 25). W e ought to
worship God in the spirit and in truth. “ W e are the true
worshippers and the true priests who, praying in the spirit,
present prayer in the spirit as an offering corresponding to God
and well-pleasing to Him.— This sacrifice is consecrated to Him
with the whole heart, and is nourished by faith and presented
in truth; its blamelessness consists in our innocence, its
cleanness in our chastity, its crowning in brotherly love.— Such
a sacrifice we must bring to the altar of God with the pomp of
good works, amid the singing of psalms and hymns, and it will
procure all things from God” (c. 28). Again Tertullian writes on
the power and fruit of prayer thus: “ It turns away the wrath of
G od ; it watches for enemies; and it supplicates for persecutors.”
“ It likewise wipes out transgressions, drives away temptations,
extinguishes persecutions,” etc. “ Prayer is the wall of faith,
and our armour for defence and attack against the foe who
lurks for us on all sides. Let us then never go about without
our arms ” (c. 29)

• o f its Foundation.
3. Cyprian.
Against this breach of the continuity of the Christian

spirit in the Church, which had led into the path of fanati
cism and into the narrowness of a pietistic sect, the ecclesi
astical spirit reacted in Cyprian1 (t 258), who opposed to
the sporadic spirit of the Montanistic prophetism the con
tinuity and community of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. He
1 Rettbcrg, Cyprian, dargest. nach s. Leben u. Wirken, Gott. 1831. Bohringer,
Biogr. i. 2. Leimbach in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 iii. 409 if. Feclitrup, Der h.
Cyprian, 2 Th., Miinster 1878. Gass, 72 ff. Nirschl, i. 301 ff.
thus translated Tertullian into the Catholic form by making
the Montanistic legalism the legalism of the episcopally con
stituted Church, and at the same time moderated Tertullian's
rigorism.
Cyprian's Letters contain considerable moral material, and
especially those addressed to Donatus (also called Liber de
gratia) in sixteen chapters. In these Letters Cyprian makes
pass before the eyes of his friends, as from the summit of a
mountain, a picture of the corruption of the world and the
struggling of men after the unreal things and honours of this
life. Having been enrolled in the heavenly service, Donatus has
to maintain the pure discipline of the Christian virtues. His
constant occupation was to be prayer and reading. In the
former he would speak with God, in the latter God would
speak with him.1 The following writings of Cyprian also
belong to the department of morals: De mortalitate (twenty-
six chaps.), written on the occasion of the plague in the year
252 A.D., and setting forth the consolations and encourage
ments which the Christian draws from his faith— a book
which, according to Augustine's testimony, was much read;
De exhortatione m artyrii, probably written in the year 253
a . d . in expectation of a persecution— designed to warn against
idol sacrifices, and composed almost wholly in words of Scrip

ture : Illa sunt militaris tubse hortamenta, illa pugnantium
classica (the signals).2 The following works of Cyprian are
also worthy of consideration in this connection: De oratione
dominica (thirty-six chaps.), which is akin to Tertullian’s
treatise on the same subject, but more detailed and more
intelligible— highly valued and recommended by Augustine.
The fourth petition is here likewise referred to the body of
Christ (c. 18), although it may also be understood of the
necessary daily support of life (c. 19). De opere et eleemosynis
(twenty - six chaps.): by good works and especially alms
giving the sins committed after baptism are cancelled. De
hono patientice is an elaboration of Tertullian's treatise De
patientia; it treats of the blessing of the virtue of patience
and the unblessedness of impatience, and was written on occa
sion of the controversy regarding the baptism of heretics and
the excitement which was thereby evoked. De zelo et livore (of
1 Nirschl, L 305. · * Praef. c. 4.
envy and jealousy, in eighteen chaps.); envy springs from the
devil, who fell through envy, and is a source of many sins.
The Christian ought to keep himself free from these per
nicious passions.; for having become a heavenly man in
baptism, he must also be of a heavenly disposition in love.
Be habitu virginum (twenty-four chaps.) was written in the
year 249. Virgins consecrated to God are the joy and orna
ment of the Church; they represent the life of the angels,
and anticipate the future glory. Their dignity comes im
mediately after that of martyrdom. Their mode of life must
be so much the more circumspect; they ought to avoid finery
and luxury. Augustine praised this work; and Jerome re
commended it to Eustochium for reading. The three treatises,
De spectaculis, De disciplina et bono pudicitice, and De laude
m artyrii, are probably spurious, but they certainly belong to
about this date.
Cyprian’s fundamental thought is the unity of the Church.
This thought is expounded in his treatise De unitate ecclesice
(in twenty-seven chaps.), written in the year 251 on occasion
of the Schism of Novatus and Eelicissimus in Carthage and
Novatian in Eome. The foremost moral duty of the Chris
tian is therefore obedience to the Church, and schism and
heresy are the gravest crimes. In this position he already
completely represents the views of the later Koman Church, as
he does likewise in the doctrine of the meritoriousness and sin-
cancelling power of individual good works, especially of alms.
He holds the same relation also to the distinction made
between the common Christian morality and the higher
perfection of the virgin state, and other similar doctrines.
Passages from Cyprian’s writings.— Of the Sin o f Schism and

Heresy, which he regards as greater than that of the lapsed,
who can be received again after sufficient penitence, he thus
writes in his De unitate ecclesiae, c. 19: Pejus hoc crimen est
quam quod admisisse lapsi videntur, qui tamen in poenitentia
criminis constituti Deum plenis satisfactionibus deprecantur.
Hic ecclesia quaeritur et rogatur; illic ecclesiae repugnatur.
Hic potest necessitas fuisse; illic voluntas tenetur in scelere.
Hic qui lapsus est sibi tantum nocuit; illic qui haeresin vel
schisma facere conatus est, multos secum trahendo decepit etc.
Et cum lapsus semel peccaverit, ille quotidie peccat. Postremo
lapsus martyrium postmodura consecutus potest regni promissa
percipere; ille si extra ecclesiam fuerit occisus, ad ecclesiae non
potest praemia pervenire. Even a martyr death cannot extin
guish this crime; indeed there can be no martyr outside of
the Church (c. 14).— On the meritoriousness o f good works, and
especially o f alms, he thus speaks in his De opere et eleemosynis
(c. 2 ): As the fire of hell is extinguished by the bath of the
wholesome water, so the flame of sins (after baptism) is put out
by alms' and good works. And because in baptism there is
vouchsafed forgiveness of sins once, persevering and constant
beneficence, like baptism, again bestows the grace of God.”
How benign then is the divine goodness, considering that
there is none without wounds, seeing that it has furnished a
wholesome means in that way by which we can again be
healed and made sound from our wounds (c. 3 )! The meri
toriousness of alms is then shown by Cyprian from Scripture,
especially from the Old Testament Apocrypha, and particularly
from Sir. iii. 33. The last point considered (c. 26) is that as
martyrdom acquires the purple crown of victory, so does
charitableness acquire the white shining crown. And so he
exclaims at the close of his treatise: Prceclara et divina res,
salutaris operatio, solatium grande credentium, securitatis
nostne salubre preesidium, munimentum spei, tutela fidei,
medela peccati, res posita in potestate facientis, res et grandis
et facilis sine periculo persecutionis, corona pacis, verum Dei
munus et maximum, infirmis necessarium, fortibus gloriosum,
quo Christianus adjutus perfert gratiam spiritalem, promeretur
Christum judicem, Deum computat debitorem!— “ To those
who conquer in peace, He will give the white crown for
good works; to those who endure in persecution, He will
present the purple . crown for suffering.” This treatise
became a standard work in all the following periods down to
the Keformation.
In his Be halitu virginum, Cyprian expresses his judgment
to quite the same effect as Tertullian on the reprehensibleness
of the love of finery (c. 11); and he speaks of fine ornaments
as an invention of the apostate angels (c. 14), as a deformation
of the work of God (c. 15), and on artificial ornamentation as a
sinning against truth. “ Thou hast soiled the skin with false
paint; thou hast falsified the hair with an untrue colour; thy
face is possessed by lies; thy form is distorted ; thy countenance
is made strange. Thou wilt not be able to look upon God with
the eyes which God did not form, but which the devil has
deformed. Thou hast followed after him ; thou hast imitated
the ruddy and glittering eyes of the serpent; thou hast decked
thyself up after thy enemy; and thou shalt also burn with
him ” (c. 17). Virgins ought not to take part in luxurious
VOL. i. N
revellings (c. 18), nor to visit the common public baths : such
a hath defiles; it does not wash ; it does not clean the limbs,
but soils them. Although thou dost not look unchastely on
any one, yet thou art thyself looked upon unchastely, etc.
(c. 19). On the other hand, the dignity of virgins stands
next to that of martyrs; their reward of grace is the second
in order (c. 21). “ What we shall be in the future, ye have
already begun. Ye have the glory of the resurrection already
in this world; ye step through this world without defilement
from the world. When ye continue to persevere in chastity
and virginity, ye are like the angels of God ” (c. 22). “ The
Lord does not command abstinence, but encourages to it.”
“ A greater holiness and truth of regeneration belongs to you,
as the desires of the flesh and of the body are alien to you ”
(c. 23). In this there is united an exuberant rhetoric with a
false estimation of an external state. — In his treatise on
the Lord’s Prayer there is much that is good and beautiful.
But prayer is represented as unfruitful if it is not combined
with the fruits of good works. “ Prayer is good with fastings
and alms, says the Scripture ” (Tob. xii. 9). “ He who will
dispense the reward for good works and alms at the day of
judgment, is also to-day a gracious Hearer for him who comes
to prayer with the works of charity ” (c. 32). The hours of
prayer— the third, sixth, and ninth— include all three the
mystery of the Trinity (c. 34). W e Christians, however, as we
are always in the light, ought not to cease from prayer even
during the night. The hours of the night ought to make no
interruption in supplication ; nor should idleness and inertness
keep any away from prayers (c. 36).

o f its Foundation.
4. Minucius Felix. Lactantius. Zeno.
1. Minucius F elix1 belongs to the time of Tertullian,—

Ebert and others putting him even before Tertullian. His
Octavius contains much relating to morals. While inten
tionally leaving in the background the deeper contents of
Christianity, he justifies it as the higher truth of the heathen
1 Ebert, Gesch. der Liter, des M .-A . i., Lpz. 1874, p. 25 if. Mangold in
Herzog’s P. R..-E.2 x. 12 ff. R. Kiihn, Der Oct. des Min. Fel., eine heidn.-
philos. Auffassung v. Christenth. Dissert., Lpz. 1882.
knowledge, and as the higher morality of life. His apologetic
representation of the morals of the Christians enables us to
recognise what was commonly recognised among them as
Christian. He declares that it was forbidden to eat blood,1
to marry more than once,1 2 and to accept places of honour
among the heathen.3 In opposition to the heathen sacrifices,
he says: “ A good soul, a pure spirit, and an honest conscience
is a worthy sacrifice. He therefore who practises irreproach
ableness of life, prays to G od; whoever practises justice,
sacrifices to God. He who uses no deceit reconciles G od ;
and he who rescues a fellow-man from a danger, slaughters
the best beast of sacrifice. These are our sacrifices ; this is
our worship” (c. 32). Of martyrdom he says: “ What a
beautiful spectacle must it be for God when the Christian
struggles with pain; when he bears himself up against
threatenings, sentences of death, and tortures; when he mocks
with scorn and contempt at the clamour of an execution and
the fear of the executioner; when he holds high his liberty
in opposition to kings and princes, and yields alone to God,
to whom he belongs! ” “ Our boys and girls mock at the
tortures of the cross and of the rack, at wild beasts and all
the kinds and terrors of death, in heavenly endurance of
pain” (c. 38).
2. Lactantius4 (t c. 330 at Treves) was, according to
Jerome, a scholar of the African Arnobius, although a native of
Italy. He was originally a heathen rhetorician, but although
only a Christian layman, he was well instructed in theology.
His style led Jerome to designate him as the “ Christian Cicero.”
In his writings he is predominantly controlled by the ethical
interest, and he is fond of presenting Christian ethics in
relation and opposition to the ancient philosophical ethics.
In his De mortibus jpersecutorumJ he seeks to demonstrate the
divine judgment by a reference to the deaths of the emperors
1 Tantumque ab humano sanguine cavemus, ut nec edalium pecorum in cibis

sanguinem noverimus, c. 30.
2 Unius matrimonii vinculo libenter adhaeremus cupiditatem procreandi aut
unam scimus aut nullam, c. 31.
3 Nec de ultima statim plebe consistimus, si honores vestros aut purpuras
recusamus, l.c.
4 Staudlin, iii. 19 f. Heinig, Die Ethik des Laktantius, Lpz. Inaugur.-
Dissert. 1887.
who were hostile to Christianity. His De ira Dei justifies
the doctrine of the wrath of God. in opposition to the philoso
phical denial of the affection of anger in the divine, or at
least of such a form of affection. His principal work in
which his ethical doctrines are embraced is his Institutiones
divinae (in seven Books), in which he opposes the true Christian
wisdom, religion, and morality to the heathen errors. The
first three Books are predominantly polemical, being directed
against the practical and scientific heathenism. Book I., De
falsa religione, proves from the harmony of the world the
providence and unity of God in opposition to the folly of the
heathen potytheism. B. IL, De origine erroris, refers idolatry
to the seeming miracles of demons and such like. B. III., De
falsa sapientia, shows up the nothingness of the heathen
philosophy. The last four Books are of a positive character,
and are largely ethical in their contents. B. IV., De vera
sapientia, shows how, in opposition to the vain searchings of
the heathen philosophy for truth, God has revealed the true
wisdom through the prophets and through His Son, Jesus
Christ, which knowledge is the presupposition of the true
worship of G od ; and that this worship is therefore only to be
found in the Christian Church. B. V., De justitia, expounds
the true justice or righteousness which the heathen did not
know, as the highest virtue and source of virtue (v. 15), and
as consisting in the true worship of God in disposition and
action. In support of this position, Lactantius gives a survey
of the principles of the Christian morality in contrast to which
the heathen life is injustice or unrighteousness. B. VL, De
vero cultu, shows how the worship of God consists in two
things : piety towards God, and beneficence towards men,
pietas and sequitas (beneficentia, misericordia, humanitas).
B. VII., De vita beata, treats of the goal of man, of immortality
as the reward of righteousness, and of the punishment of the
last judgment. Lactantius himself afterwards summarized
this text-book, for the use of his brother in his Epitome
divinarum institutionum ad Pentadium fratrem , in which the
relative sections recur, although with a more or less indepen
dent exposition in detail.
Lactantius himself sums up his Ethics (Inst. vii. 7. 1) in
the words: The highest good is immortality; we are born
for i t ; and the way to it is virtue.1 This indicates the
arrangement of his thoughts which we have to follow. These
thoughts express from the outset the specific relation of the
ethical reflection of Lactantius, both to the ancient philoso
phical and to the Christian way of thinking. It was the
longing for a certainty of immortality which chiefly filled
and moved the thoughts and hearts of the ancient world in
the first centuries of the Christian era,1 23but they were not
able to attain to this certainty. The Christianity of that
time approached this world with the proclamation of αθανασία
and ζωη αΙώνιος, and specially in the sense of an immortality
and eternal life in the other world. In this the followers
of Christianity believed they possessed a superiority over the
heathen world. But this indication of the essential Christian
good did not reach the speciality and fulness of the fellowship
of salvation as it is revealed in Christ and realized for us, and
as it is summarily comprehended by Paul in the proposition of
justification by faith; and accordingly the designation of virtue
as the way to this goal is a falling back upon the pre-Christian
stage, although virtue itself is more christianly determined.
Lactantius is fond of relating his ethical investigations to the
ancient views and attaching them to these, although predomi
nantly in opposition to them. This is seen by his investigation
of the highest good? He establishes its essential marks: it must
only belong to man, must relate only to the soul, must pre
suppose knowledge and virtue, must make the individual
happy, must always remain identical with itself, must have
no end, and must include no evil in it.4 By these marks he
tests the various views set up by the ancient moral philo
sophy, and finds them all insufficient.5 But if, according to
Cicero's definition,6 which he adopts, man is made for justice,
1 Unum est igitur summum bonum immortalitatis ad quam capiendam et

formati a principio et nati sumus. Ad hanc tendimus, ad hanc nos provehit
vertus.
2 Cf. Burckhardt, Konst, d. Gr. p. 14 if. “ The heathenism of the third
century had become a religion of the other world.”
3 Inst. iii. 7-13 j Epit. c. 33 fif. 4 Cf. Heinig, a. a. 0 . p. 28.
5 Inst. iii. 11. 6 j Miror itaque nullum omnino philosophorum exstitisse, qui
sedem ac domicilium summi boni reperiret.
6 De Leg. i. 10 : Nihil est profecto praestabilius, quam quod intelligimus, nos
ad justitiam esse natos.
and justice has to endure suffering in life, yet according to
the opinion of all philosophers happiness should belong to
man, then, concludes Lactantius, this happiness must be
referred to the other life, and the highest good therefore con
sists in immortality.1 The highest good is thus a thing that
belongs purely to the other w orld; it is not already a thing
of this life. To the present life belongs only the striving
after i t 1
2 in the knowledge of God and the worship of G od ; 3
and therefore it is to us as something which we have to do,
and not a possession in which we rejoice. This divergence
of the conception of “ immortality ” from the New Testament
conception of “ eternal life,” which already forms the present
possession of faith, shows the presence of a false dualism
between the present world and the next. It was occasioned
by divergence from the line of the Pauline knowledge, where
by the relationship to God was set forth as performance
and counter-performance, and it proceeds in misunderstanding
of the knowledge that “ where there is forgiveness of sins,
there also is life and blessedness.”
The way to that goal is virtue. For there are two ways,4
one going to heaven and one to hell, as the narrow and the
broad way, the way of virtue and the way of vice. This old
scheme, founded on the Old Testament and on Matthew vii.
13 f., and on the designation of Christianity as “ the w ay”
absolutely,5 may be traced through the well-known “ Two
"Ways ” of the literature of the early Church6 down to
Lactantius. Now the way of virtue advances through con
flict. It is God’s will that we were to live in conflict. It
has been willed by God Himself, and for this purpose evil
has also been ordered by God.7 Thus evil is subservient to
1 So the Deduction in Epit. c. 33 if.

2 Inst. vi. 18, 35 : Immortalitatis quasi candidati sumus, vii. 5. 18 : Idcirco
hanc praesentem vitam dedit, ut illam veram et perpetuam aut vitiis amittamus,
aut virtute mereamur.
8 Inst. vii. 6. 1 : Ideo nascimur, ut cognoscamus deum ; ideo cognoscimus, ut
colamus.
4 Inst. vi. 18. 35 : Duae sunt viae.
6 Acts ix. 2, xix. 9.
® Cf. supra, § 28. 2.
7 Epit. 29 : Summa igitur prudentia Deus materiam virtutis in malis posuit;
quae idcirco fecit, ut nobis constitueret agonem, in quo victores immortalitatis
praemio coronaret. * ‘
tlie good.1 Not as if God immediately willed the evil, but
it is produced through the medium of Satan, and is only
permitted by God.2 The occasion for it is furnished by man’s
passions, among which the most powerful, according to Lac
tantius, are anger, cupidity, and sensuous lust. These form
means for the exercise of virtue, and they are therefore so
far necessary.3 Now according to Lactantius, as in the
ancient moral philosophy virtue consists in the control of
the passions, this is the right fortitude.4 Virtue mounts
upwards by three stages— abstinence from bad works is the
first stage; abstinence from bad words is the second stage;
and abstinence from bad thoughts is the third and highest
stage, reaching to resemblance to God.5 This is certainly
not effected without renunciation and suffering. Virtue is
endurance of evils,6 and denial of the enjoyment of the
present, which specially includes the avoidance of plays as
an exercise and school of immorality (Epit. c. 63). If this
self-denial appears at first as folly, it ultimately exhibits itself
as wisdom. The right form of the Christian life which grows
out of this suppression of the passions, is described by
Lactantius negatively and positively: negatively, as not
cursing, swearing, lying, deceiving, envying, stealing, or
being harsh, etc. (Epit. c. 6 4 ); and positively, as the prac
tice of mercy, fidelity, and stedfastness of faith (Epit. c. 66),
for which the reward is blessedness.
Virtue and its manifestations are taken together by
Lactantius under the title of Justice. While he refers to
Cicero for this view (De Leg. 1. 10), it has, as is well
known, connections going much farther back, especially to
Aristotle, to whom justice is “ virtue absolutely ” and the
sum of all the others.7 After this precedent it has been a
1 Inst. vii. 5, add. 1 : Nulla virtus esse poterat nisi diversa fecisset, nec omnino
vis boni apparere potest, nisi ex mali comparatione. Adeo malum nihil aliud
est, nisi boni interpretatio.
2 De ira, 15 : Ideo malum permisisse, ut et bonum emicaret.
3 Inst. vi. 15. 5-8.
4 Inst. i. 9. 4 : Animum vincere fortissimi est.
8 Inst. vi. 13. t>-8: Qui primum gradum ascendit, satis justus e s t; qui
secundum, jam perfectae virtutis, siquidem neque factis neque sermone delin
quat ; qui tertio is vero similitudinem Dei assecutus videtur.
6 Inst. vii. 1. 17 : Virtus est tolerantia malorum.
7 Cf. Luthardt’s Antike Ethik, p. 78 f.
practice in the ethics of the Eoman Church till to-day to
embrace under the virtue of justice the practice of religion
and the love of one’s neighbour— evidently a scheme that
corresponds little to the subject. Lactantius, then, com
prises in justice the attitude of man towards God as well as
towards others; to worship God and to esteem and love one’s
neighbour as the image of God (humanitas), i.e. piety ( pietas)
and equity (cequitas)} are the two principal virtues. As in
general, so likewise here in the requirement of humanitas
and coquitas, Lactantius attaches his view mainly to Cicero;
but, like Ambrose after him, he overpasses the ancient
philosophical ethics by placing pietas in the foreground, and
thereby returning to the pre-Aristotelian common ethics.2
Thus it appears here too, and this is entirely characteristic
of the doctrine of the Eoman Church, that Christianity is
regarded as something added to what already existed, and
specially to the ancient philosophy; and that in this external
sense it is regarded as a supernatural thing— an accedens and
superadditum. Now we owe this higher thing to Christ,
i.e. to His doctrine and to His example. It is characteristic
of this whole way of thinking that Lactantius was not able
to attain to the right appreciation of Christ and of His death
on the cross.3 He is essentially a “ Doctor justitiae.” 4 It
is only for the authentication of doctrine in life that the
body and suffering of Christ were required.
Piety, as Christ teaches it to us, is, according to Lactan
tius, essentially renunciation of the earthly for the sake of
the heavenly. Both of these spheres and goods, the terrena
and the ccelestia, stand exclusively opposed to each other. It
is the right wisdom to renounce these transitory goods,
honours, etc., “ terrena calcare,” in order to win the imperish
able heavenly goods, and above all the highest good of immor
tality. We should have earthly goods only in order to
bestow them richly as alms, etc.,5 being contented if we have
1 Inst. v. 14. 9 : Justitia quamvis omnes simul virtutes amplectatur, tamen
elute sunt omnino principales, quae ab illa divelli separarique non possunt: pietas
et aequitas.
8 Cf. Luthardt’s Antike Ethik, pp. 142 f., 59 f.
8 Cf. Epit. c. 50, 51.
* lnst. iv. 13. 1.
° lnst. vi. 17. 17 : Pecuniae minime temperandum est.*
only what is necessary for the support of life.1 It is the
well-known ascetic way of thinking as conditioned by that
exclusive opposition of the heavenly and earthly which meets
us here again.
Equity («xquitas, Immanitas) towards one’s neighbour is
described by Lactantius as universal, self-sacrificing, and.
unselfish (Inst. vi. 10). It exhibits itself particularly in
hospitality, the ransoming of prisoners, the defence of widows,
interment of strangers and of the poor,— certainly with the
thought that by such good deeds unavoidable sins were to
be compensated for (Inst. vi. 13). It shows itself in par
ticular as innocentia, i.e. as keeping oneself from committing
sin against one’s neighbour, in conformity with which the
natural impulse of self-preservation is subordinated to con
sideration for the wellbeing of others. From that point of
view he decides the collisions of duties on which he enters
in detail.1
23 The Christian will not save his life by snatching
a plank from a shipwrecked man, or by taking away his horse
from one who had been wounded in battle; but in such cases
he will rather die himself, even at the risk of appearing a
fool 18 For the Christian does not know of this life only,
but of the future life. This whole explanation appears as a
sort of Christianized revival of explanations of the Stoics ;
and in fact the ideal of Lactantius is just the wise man of
the Stoics, only in the sense of the Christian.
In marriage justice manifests itself as fidelity, chastity,
and mutual patience. But higher than marriage is god-like
celibacy, which, as the height of the virtues, has to expect
incomparable reward.4* In the description of this highest
1 Inst. v. 22. 8 : Non amplius quierat, quam unde vitam sustentet.

2 Following Carneades, Cicero in the Third Book of his De officiis deals with
this subject, and the popular Moral Philosophy generally was fond of entering
upon these questions.
3 Inst. v. 18 : Morietur potius justus quam occidet. Manifestum est, eum
qui aut naufrago tabulam aut equum saucio non ademerit, stultum non esse,
quia hsec facere peccatum est, a quo se sapiens abstinet.— Sapientissimus est,
qui mavult perire ne noceat.
4 Inst. vi. 24. 37 : Si quis hoc facere potuerit, habebit eximiam incompa-
rabilemque mercedem. Quod continentia1, genus quasi fastigium est omniumque
consummatio virtutum, ad quam si quis eniti atque eluctari potuerit, hunc
servum dominus, hunc discipulum magister agnoscet, hic terram triumphabit
hic erit consimilis Deo, qui virtutem Dei cepit.
virtue, there is exhibited that non-Christian notion which
identifies spirituality in the sense of what is not sensible
with morality. In Lactantius this is established by its con
nection with his otherwise dualistic notion of the much-
discussed two opposite principles of the good and the bad,
Christ and the devil, according to which the body, because of
the earth, the kingdom of the devil, is the seat of evil,
whereas the spirit is from God.1 From this point of view
the ascetic way of thinking is a necessary consequence; and
in like manner there follows the exclusive apprehension of
the highest good in reference to the other world in the sense
of “ immortalitas,” by which a correct appreciation of the
earthly life and of its tasks could not be reached.
It was a matter of course from the connections of Christian
morality that Lactantius rejected in detail the brothel, Plato’s
community of wives, child-murder, and abortion, as well as
the exposure of children (which, if it did not lead to death,
at least sent the boys to slavery and the girls to a life of
immorality), together with the gladiatorial shows and theatrical
plays.12 It may also be added that he likewise uncondition
ally rejected lying and the taking of interest. In his opinion,
the Christian will also avoid commerce and war, since he is
sufficient for himself, and he keeps at peace with all men.3
On one side we see in the ethics of Lactantius the influ
ences of Neo-Platonic ideas, and on the other side a connec
tion with the ethics of the Stoics; and in contrast to both,
the Christian Ethic shows itself to be the higher truth by its
religious character. This is especially exemplified by refer-
1 Inst. ii. 1 3 : In hac societate coeli atque terrae quorum effigies in homine
expressa est, superiorem partem tenent ea quae sunt Dei, anima scilicet quae
dominium corporis habet, inferiorem autem ea, quae sunt diaboli, corpus utique,
quia terrenum est, animae debet esse subjectum, sicut terra coelo. Est enim
quasi vasculum, quo tanquam domicilio temporali spiritus hic coelestis utatur.
Utriusque officia sunt, ut hoc quod est ex coelo et Deo imperet, illud vero quod
ex terra est et diabolo serviat.
2 Inst. vi. 18 ff., 20, 27, 29 : Histrionum quoque impudicissimi motus, quid
aliud nisi libidines docent et instigant ? Quid de mimis loquar corruptelarum
praeferentibus disciplinam.
8 Inst. v. 18 : Cur enim naviget aut quid petat ex aliena terra, cui sufficit sua ?
Non autem belligeret ac se alienis furoribus misceat, in cuius animo pax cum
hominibus perpetua versetur, vi. 20. 16 : Itaque neque militara justo licebit,
cuius militia est ipsa justitia.
ence to Cicero. The line of this thought of Lactantius was
taken up and pursued by Ambrose.
3. The date of Zeno o f Verona is not settled, but ninety-three
tractates or sermones are attributed to him. They are usually
referred to the fourth century; but some assign them even to
the middle or second half of the third century as their possible
date. They often almost verbally coincide with passages in
Tertullian, Cyprian, and Lactantius, as well as with Hilary's
commentary on the Psalms. The tractates are discourses or
read sermons, and several of them, especially in the First
Book, treat of ethical subjects. The author presses for a
practical Christianity in contrast to a Christianity of words
and disputation. Thus the 1st Tractate emphasizes the
practical nature of fa ith , which has nothing to do with philo
sophical demonstrations, (c. 5), and avoids questions of contro
versy. “ The servant of God ought not to dispute, because
disputation is the enemy of love as well as of faith ” (c. 6).
The 2nd Tractate treats of hope, fa ith , and love. “ Faith is
the ground of hope, and hope is the glorification of faith"
(c. 2), while love is the queen of all the virtues (c. 4). “ Love
loves no one from personal consideration, as she cannot flatter;
nor for honour, because she is not ambitious; nor on account
of sex, because to her the two sexes are on e; nor a limited
time only, because she does not change. She is not jealous,
because she does not know en v y ; she is not puffed up,
because she cultivates humility; she thinks no evil, because
she is simple.” Love is the connecting and animating power
in all; love is therefore the highest commandment. “ The
whole Christian nature thus lies more in love than in hope
and in faith ” (c. 6). The 3rd Tractate contrasts Christian
justice with the worldly justice of which the philosophers speak.
The latter is a mode of speech; the former is selfless doing.
The 4th Tractate celebrates the praise of chastity, with which
its opposite is contrasted in vivid description. The 5 th
Tractate connects with the preceding one the praise of
continence, of virginhood and widowhood, and blames second
marriage, and still more marriage with the heathen. The
virgin has only to please God and not m an; she has not to
be anxious about the loss of children, nor to sigh under the
burden of pregnancy and the danger of childbed (c. 2).
“ Subjecting the blossom of holy chastity to no yoke of
marriage, preserve the treasure of faith; be holy in body and
soul; quench the glow of the flesh by love to Christ, to say
nothing of the glory of the resurrection which thou makesfc
conquest of even here, when, as the Lord says, they neither
marry nor are given in marriage, but will be as the angels of
G od ” (c. 3). The 6th Tractate celebrates patience as the
bridling guide of the other virtues. It concludes thus : “ Thou
lendest to Poverty, so that satisfied with her own she may
possess all when she bears all. Thou art a wall of faith, the
fruit of hope, the friend of love.— Happy, happy to eternity, is
he who continually possesses thee in himself.” The 7th
Tractate is a glorification of humility in opposition to the
philosophers’ doctrine of pride. The 8th Tractate treats of
fea r, of the fear of God in distinction from natural fear.
“ Blessed are all they who fear the Lord.” The 9th, 10th,
and 11th Tractates treat of covetousness, that universally spread
vice, from whose kindling brand the whole world is enflamed
(ix. 1). Its restless greed is vividly described. It is the
root of all evils and the corruption of the life of society.
And yet death puts an end to all, and there is no means
against it (ix. δ). The 10th Tractate carries out this last
thought in further detail. How unworthy this vice then is
of the Christians! (x. 3). It is the going down of all the
virtues (x. 4). How abominable it is, is described in the
short sketch— for it is nothing more— which forms the next
discourse. “ It breaks fidelity, sets love aside, denies justice,
has no feeling.” “ It rages more against him who loves i t :
but he who conquers it will have eternal life.” There is here
shown throughout an earnest, sober, moral spirit, which keeps
to what is essential and moves in the traditional paths of the
thought of its time. How the fundamental error of the time
is therewith also shared, is shown by the 12th Tractate on
the spirit and body. It indeed designates the life of the soul
as won by faith out of the fountain of baptism, and just
because the life of the soul is from the creation the eternal
part in us, while the body puts us under the laws of nature
which we have in common with the beasts. To this
creational antithesis of man, in which two different and
antagonistic things are internally linked with one another in
discordant union, and the soul is compassed about by the
outlines of the body, Zeno refers the words of the Apostle:
“ The flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the
flesh : and they are contrary to each other” (Gal. v. 17). Thus
we have here also the perversion of the ethical into the
physical.
§ 40. The Ethics o f the Western Church in the time o f its

ascendancy.
On the basis laid by Tertullian and Cyprian, the Ethics of

the Western Church were developed in the same spirit. The
chief representatives of this developed ethical thinking were
Ambrose, Augustine, Jerome, and Gregory the Great. A m b r o s e
sought to justify the dominant Catholic thought with its com
bination of ancient and Christian elements, by the exhibition
of Christian Ethics as the higher fulfilment of the Stoic Ethics.
A u g u s t i n e is the most characteristic representative of the
Western spirit, and he became its standard representative for
the following time. In conformity with this spirit he took his
standpoint, on the one side, in the will of man, and, on the
other, in the renewing grace of God, and made love to God the
highest good, because the highest reality. This was the centre
of his ethical thoughts. Erom this standpoint a better appre
ciation of the relationships and orders of the earthly life was
possible to him, and it would have pressed itself upon him
even through the necessities of actual life, if he had not been
hindered by the traditional false conception of Christian per
fection and the current ascetic ideal from forming a correct
estimate of the worldly life and the tasks of its calling, and if
he had not been held under the bane of a mysticism which
was in affinity with Heo-Platonism. As the grace of the
forgiveness of sin did not stand in the centre of his theological
thinking so that the relationship to God did not present itself
to him in its right bearing, neither was he able to find the
right relationship to the world. In the case of J e r o m e , the
ascetic ideal of the monk became entirely the controlling
thought of his life, which he set forth with energy and success,
and represented in opposition to his opponents. G r e g o r y
t h e G r e a t , again, combined this ideal with the hierarchical
interest, while he represented and turned to account Augus

tine’s thoughts in the rest of his theology. Thus it was
natural that the various attempts at reform which were made,
experienced a decided repulsion, so that the traditional moral
thinking only established itself the more firmly, and it passed
over into the Mediaeval Church.1
1. Ambrose.
Ambrose (t 397) was a man of the old Boman type with

its ethical character. He has treated moral themes on many
occasions both in his letters and in various writings. Of the
latter, we must note the follow ing: Be poenitentia, in 'two
Books ; Be virginibus ad Marcellinam sororem, in three Books,
— a summary of lectures which he delivered soon after enter
ing on his episcopate, and which had made a great impression;
Be viduis, in fifteen Chapters, occasioned by a widow who
wished to enter into a second marriage; Be virginitate, in
twenty Chapters, written c. 378, a justification of his high
estimate of virginity and renewed praise of i t ; Be institutione
virginis sive sermo de virginis virginitate perpetua ad Eusebium
civem Bononiensem, in seventeen Chapters, written after 391 ;
Exhortatio virginitatis, in sixteen Chapters, written c. 393, a
discourse delivered by Ambrose at Florence on occasion of the
consecration of a church which a certain widow Juliana had
1L iterature on A mbrose : Pruner, Die Theol. de h. Ambros., Eichst.

1862. Forster, Am b., Bisch. v. Mailand, Halle 1884.
On A ugustine : Kloth, Der h. Kirchenlehrer August. Aach. 1840. Wiggers,
Augustinism. u. Pelagianism., 2 Thle., Berl. 1883. Nirschl, Ursprung u. Wesen
des Bosen nach d. Lehre des h. August., Regsb. 1854. Dieckhoff, Aug.’s Lehre
v. d. Gnade, Theol. Ztschr. 1860. Luthardt, Lehre vom freien Willen u. s. w.,
Lpz. 1863, pp. 26 ff., 39 ff. Ernst, Die Werke u. Tugenden der Unglaubigen
nach St. Aug., Freiburg 1871. A . Dorner, Aug., sein theol. System u. s. relig.-
philos. Anschauung, Berl. 1873, Storz, Die Philos, des h. Aug., Freiburg 1882.
Losche, Plotin u. Aug., Ztschr. ftir kirchl. Wissensch. 1884, 7. Scipio, A ug.’s
Metaphysik im Rahmen seiner Lehre v. Uebel, Lpz. 1886. Eahl, Die L. v.
Primat des Willens b. Aug., Duns Scot. u. Descartes, Strassb. 1886. Herm.
Reuter, Augustinische Studien, Gotha 1887. *
erected, and who had consecrated her son Laurentius, her three
daughters, and herself to the single life. The title"of these
writings already show on what his principal interest turned.
It is the praise of virginity as the Christian ideal. But the
most important of his writings in the present connection is his
Be officiis ministrorum, 1. iii.,1 in which he has compendiously
expounded his ethics. This work is a sort of side-piece to
Cicero’s Be officiis, the arrangement of which it follows.1 2 In the
First Book he treats of the decorum, in the Second of the utile,
and in the Third of the connection of both. Primarily destined
for the clergy of his diocese, this production is at the same
time an outline of ethics for Christians generally. It is pro
vided with many examples from Scripture which are used as a
substitute for the art of systematic method with which he will
have nothing to do.3 The decorum is treated according to the
four cardinal virtues. What promotes our piety and makes us
perfect is useful. The Third Book discusses the final end of
human life, i.e. likeness to God. Our duty is to strive after this
perfection and to further others in it. The four cardinal virtues
('virtutes principales, not till later called cardinales) : prudentia
or sapientia, justitia, fortitudo, temperantia, are Christianized,
and they indicate respectively: prudentia, the relationship to
1 Ed. by Krabinger, Tiib. 1857.

2 Bittner, Commentatio de Ciceronianis et Ambrosianis officiorum libris,
Brannsb. 1849. Hasler, Ueber das Yerhaltniss der heidn. u. christl. Ethik
auf Grund einer Vergleiclmng des ciceron. Buchs u. s. w., Miinch. 1866.
Zeitmeier, Apologie der christl. Moral u. s. w., Miinch. 1866. Draseke, M.
Tullii Ciceronis et Ambrosii episcopi Mediolanensis de officiis libri tres inter se
comparantur; in the Rivista di filologia eccl. iv., Turin 1875. Reeb, Ueber
die Grundlagen des Sittlichen nach Cic. u. Ambros. Yergleichung ihrer
Schriften de off. Ein Beitrag zur Bestimmung des Yerhaltnisses zwischen
heidn. -philos. u. christl. Ethik. Progr. der kgl. Studienanstalt, Zweibriicken,
1876. Ewald, Der Einfluss der stoisch-ciceronianischen Moral auf die Darstel-
lung der Ethik bei Ambros, Lpz. 1881. Forster, a. a. 0 . iiber die Ethik,
pp. 175-199 : the unmediated juxtaposition of two heterogeneous series of
thoughts. Ewald in his review of Forster says: “ The purely transcendent
* Christian ’ conception of the highest good, permits in all respects neither a
fusion with the ancient elements, nor in general a really Christian, i.e. evan
gelical exposition of Ethics.” Uhlhom, Die christl. Liebesthatigkeit der
alten Kirche, Stuttg. 1882, p. 296 ff.
3 I. 25 : Hoc artis est ut primo officium definiatur, postea in genera
dividatur. Nos autem artem refugimus, exempla maiorum proponimus.— Sit
igitur nobis vita maiorum disciplinae speculum, non calliditatis commentarium
etc.
G o d ; justitia, the relation to our fellow-men; fortitudo, the
relation to the events of life ; and temperantia, the relation to
one’s own person. The Christian is the realization of the
ancient ideal of the just and wise m an: vir Christianus et
justus et sapiens.1 Christian virtue, otherwise than in Cicero,
has thus gained by its inner connection by religion to God a
transcendent goal which passes far beyond the state of the
merely abstract virtue of the ancient ethics, and it has at the
same time obtained active power. It is not merely, as in the
ancient ethics, ratio, but “ pietas fundamentum est omnium
virtutum,” 2 with the fundamental determination of humility 3
which was unknown to antiquity, and with accentuation of the
inner disposition in its relation to God. Along with the impulse
towards moral perfection implanted in human nature (perfec
tionis possibilitas) there now goes by its side the impulse of
happiness. The two coincide at the goal of human life : ibi
plenitudo pnemii, ubi virtutum perfectio. For, virtue itself,
the summum bonum, is to the Stoic happiness, whereas
according to Ambrose virtue is only the means to it. The
Christian knows happiness in God, and its realization is in
the other world, in the vita seterna through G od 4 as fructus
bonce operationis; 5 and not as the ancient way of thinking
held, in the present world. From this purely transcendent
apprehension of the highest good, no correct relationship to
the orders and tasks of the earthly life could be. attained.
As the ethic of the Stoics and of Cicero distinguishes between
perfect and imperfect, or middle and common duties (p er
fectum, and medium), so Ambrose, in unison with the previous
development of the ecclesiastical teaching, adopts this dis
tinction and identifies it with the distinction between the
evangelical counsels (consilia evangelica) and command
ments (praecepta).6 To fulfil the commandments: not to
1 i n . 4. 2 I. 27. 126. s n . 24. 122, 124.

4 II. 1. 3. 5 II. 2. 5.
6 I. 11. 36 ff. : Officium autem omne aut medium aut perfectum est, quod
seque scripturarum auctoritate probare possumus. Habemus etenim in evangelio
dixisse dominum : si vis in vitam seternam venire serva mandata etc. Haec sunt
media officia, quibus aliquid deest; denique dicit illi adolescens: omnia hsec
custodivi a juventute mea, quid adhuc mihi deest ? Ait illi Jesus : si vis
perfectus esse, vade, vende omnia tua etc. Et supra habes scripturam (or ita
est scriptum), ubi diligendos inimicos et orandum dixit j>ro calumniantibus et
kill, not to commit adultery, not to bear false witness,
to honour father and mother, to love one’s neighbour as
oneself, — these, according to Ambrose, are middle duties;
whereas to love our enemies, to sell our property and give
to the poor, to fast voluntarily, to practise mercy, which
Ambrose emphatically recommends,1 and such like,— these
are perfect duties. This evidently shows that there was
lacking the appreciation of the proper calling of life, and a
correct knowledge of Christian perfection. Celibacy is put by
him particularly high. The Song of Solomon supplies him
with imagery to describe marriage with the heavenly bride
groom. The narrative of the holy Thecla, who was con
demned for her resolution of celibacy to be thrown to the
wild beasts in the amphitheatre, but who was caressed by
the lion which they let loose upon her, and stories of similar
alleged miracles, serve him as proof of the holiness of
celibacy. And so he praises the daughters who resolve
on that mode of life against the will of their parents. To
him marriage is a proof of the fall and of weakness. The
Roman laws against celibacy, which he severely blames, were
instituted, according to his opinion, only from hatred against
the vow of chastity. In his writings he has to defend
himself from the reproach that he prevented marriages and
the increase of the population.2 W ith regard to the former
point, he replied that he would rejoice at i t ; with regard to
the second, he believed he could refute it. He praised as
holy martyrs the virgins who killed themselves in order to
save their chastity in the time of persecution,3— in another way
certainly than Augustine did afterwards. He rejects second
marriage, at least among widows, and does not admit any of
persequentibus nos et benedicere maledicentes. Hoc nos facere debemus, si

volumus perfecti esse, sicut pater noster qui in coelo est etc. Hoc est igitur
perfectum officium, quod χχτί^ωμχ dixerunt grsece, quo corriguntur omnia
quae aliquos lapsus potuerunt habere. Cicero puts it thus: i. 3. 8, iii. 3. 14 :
Media Stoici appellant; ea communia sunt et late patent, qnse et ingenii
bonitate multi assequuntur et progressione discendi; illud autem officium quod
rectum idem (Stoici) appellant, perfectum atque absolutum est, et, ut idem
dicunt, omnes numeros habet, nec prseter sapientem cadere in quemquam
potest. The Christian takes the place of the wise man with Ambrose.
1 I. 11. 38 : Misericordia perfectos facit, quia imitatur perfectum patrem.
2 See the above-mentioned writings on virginity, and Staudlin, iii. 56 ff.
3 De virgin, iii. p. 478 sq.
VOL. I.
the usual excuses or justifications of it.1 Differing from Cicero,
he rejects the doing evil to injurers and enemies; the Christian
ought not even to defend his life against robbers when they
attack h im ; for so he understood the well-known words of
Christ in the Sermon on the Mount.2 He is also averse to
carrying on war,3 although he does not venture to reject it
absolutely; for there were too many Christian soldiers in the
imperial army. He is also inclined to reject capital punish
ment on principle, but does not venture to speak it out
directly, as Christian judges might happen to be placed in the
position of having to pronounce such sentences. He recalls
the fact that Jesus (John viii.) did not condemn the woman
taken in adultery, and that we ought to be careful for the
salvation of our neighbour. One cannot indeed keep back
such judges from communion, but “ one has wished that
such judges would rather voluntarily absent themselves from
the communion than be removed from it by the law.” 4 W e
see how uncertain was the position of the ancient Church in
relation to questions of the external life, as soon as it was
compelled to enter into more direct relation to them through
the change of circumstances. It had understood the words
of Christ which applied to the internal disposition as a law
for the outward conduct; and it did not recognise the signifi
cance of the earthly calling because it did not take its stand
point in the inner saving certainty of justification by faith,
which would have made liberty possible in contrast to the
external life in the world, without which liberty Christianity
cannot attain any reality in the world in the proper sense,
but can find its realization only in the monk.— This incapacity
to gain the free and correct standpoint over against the reality
of things, also showed itself in the question of private property.
When he declares that the jus privatum is usurpatio,5 we
1 De viduis; De offic. ii. 6 : Quid etiam tam decorum quam ut vidua uxor
viro defuncto fidem servet.
2 De offic. iii. 4 : Yir Christianus et justus et sapiens (an expression repeatedly
used to indicate that the Christian is the reality of the ancient ideal of the just
and wise man) quaerere sibi vitam aliena morte non debet, utpote qui etiam si
latronem armatum incidat, ferientem referire non possit, ne dum salutem
defendat, pietatem contaminet.
3 De offic. i. 35.
4 Epit. v. 51. Cf. Staudlin, iii. 69.
5 De offic. i. 28 : Natura jus commune generavit, usurpatio jus privatum.
have certainly here again the influence of Stoic motives.1
For to the Stoics nature is the regulative standard in which
all men participate, and therefore the state of nature is the
properly normal state. So the Cynics, too, in their own way
realize it, and the Eremites take their flight to it out of a
world of unnatural culture. This thought of natural rightful
community is also at home in the Roman ethics of the follow
ing times. Undoubtedly Ambrose gives it a Christian turn
in his emphatic recommendation of works of charity; only
they do not appear logically under the idea of free love, but
as the partial adjustment of a wrong. What was specially
begun by Cyprian in his recommendation of alms as cancel
ling sin, is decidedly developed in Ambrose. “ Thou hast
money, ransom thy sins. God is not purchasable, but thou
art purchasable; purchase the ransom of thy sins with thy
works; buy thyself off with thy money.” 1 2 As baptism only
delivers from the sins that lie back in the past, so from
the time of Cyprian alms appear as a second baptism.
“ Nay, I would like to say under reservation of faith, that
alms procure forgiveness even more than baptism. For
baptism is dispensed once, and it promises forgiveness on ce;
but alms bring forgiveness as often as they are given. These
two then are the sources of compassion which give life and
forgive sins. He who observes both, will be presented with
the honour of the heavenly kingdom; and whoever after he
has soiled the living fountain (baptism) by sins, betakes him
self to the stream of mercy, will also obtain mercy.” 3 With
vivid eloquence he advocates good works, especially towards
the members of the faith, such as ransoming from imprison
ment, saving from death, delivering woman from shame, restor
ing children to their parents and parents to their children.4
1 Cf. Cic. de offic. i. 7. 21 : Sunt autem privata nulla natura, sed aut vetere
occupatione— aut victoria— aut lege.
2 De Elia et jejuniis, c. 20.
3 Sermo de eleemosynis. 30, 31. Uhlhorn, p. 277.
* Staudlin, iii. 71, refers to de offic. i. 32-34, ii. 15, 16, 18, 19, 21. Gravis
culpa si sciente te fidelis egeat, si scias eum sine sumtu esse, famem tolerare,
aerumnam perpeti, qui praesertim egere erubescat, si in causam ceciderit aut
captivitatis suorum aut calumniae et non adjuves, si sit in carcere et poenis
et suppliciis propter debitum aliquod excrucietur,— si tempore periculi, quo
capitur ad mortem, plus apud te pecunia tua valeat, quam vita morituri.
He himself came into such circumstances when, on the in
vasion of the Goths, he made church vessels which had not yet
been used, to be smelted in order to ransom those who were
imprisoned and in danger, and he has justified himself for
doing this with eloquent words.1 He unconditionally rejects
the taking o f interest, as it was rejected in the ancient Church
generally. He did not accept even the Mosaic concession of
taking interest from strangers. He interpreted the passage
as applying to conduct towards enemies in war.
§ 41. The Ethics o f the Western Church, in the time

o f its Ascendancy.
2. Jerome.
Monasticism, attaching itself to the example of the

practical Stoics and Cynics, likewise found its way into
the West, and here, too, the ascetic disposition was ready to
receive it. The ascetic tendency, which regards the monk
as the ideal of the Christian, has found its most decided
expression in Jerome or Hieronymus (t 4 2 0).2 Of his works
we may here mention the following: Vita S. Pauli erem iti;
Vita S. H ilarionis; Vita S. M alchi; S. Pacomii regula;
Adv. Helvidium de perpetua virginitate heatce Marice, c. 383 ;
Adv. Jovinianum, 1. ii. (on the meritoriousness of fasting
and of the unmarried life ); Adv. Vigilantium (on the worship
of martyrs and relics). He also wrote very many letters of a
moral ascetic character, containing recommendations of the
monastic life against the vices and follies of the time and
bearing on the history of Christian morals, with directions for
Christian (monastic) perfection, addressed to individuals in
the circle of his friends, and especially to female friends, such
as Paula and Eustochium, Marcella, Fabiola, and others who
had gathered around him. Among those letters which contain
practical precepts and counsels for married persons, we have
his Ep. 107 ad Laetam, and Ep. 128 ad Gaudentium, relating
to the religious education of children; Ep. 71 ad Lucinium
and Ep. 122 ad Kusticum, containing exhortations to the
1 De offic. ii. 28.
2 Zockler, Hieron., s. Leben u. Wirken u. s. w., Gotha 1S65.
monastic and continent life in marriage. The following
letters contain exhortations to widowers and widows : Ep. 6 6
ad Pammachium ; Ep. 118 ad Julianum ; Ep. 54 ad Furiam ;
Ep. 79 ad Salvinam; Ep. 117 ad matrem et filiam ; Ep. 123
ad Ageruchiam. Others contain exhortations to virgins, as
the celebrated Epistola, or rather libellus, 22 ad Eustochium
(written in 384) de custodienda virginitate (pp. 8 8 -2 2 6 ) ; Ep.
130 ad Demetriadem; likewise Ep. 38 ad Marcellam, and
Ep. 117. The following letters contain counsels for monks
and those who are about to become such: Ep. 14 ad
Heliodorum; the famous Ep. 52 ad FTepotianum de vita
clericorum et Monachorum, anno 394 (distinguished on
account of the richness of its precepts as Jerome’s principal
practical theological work, and forming to some extent a sketch
of a pastoral theology from a monastico-ascetic standpoint);
Ep. 125 ad Eusticum monachum.1 A despiser of marriage
and a fanatical honourer of the unmarried state of the monastic
life, Jerome thus writes: Laudo nuptias, laudo conjugium,
sed quia mihi virgines generant.2 Luther thus writes in
reference to him : “ I know no one among the Fathers to
whom I am so hostile as Jerome; for he writes only of
fastings, food, virginity, etc. If he had, however, pressed the
works of faith and prosecuted them, it would have been
something; but he teaches nothing, neither of faith, nor of
hope, nor of love, nor of works of faith.” 3 The celebrated
description which Jerome gives of his self-castigations for the
conquest of carnal desire in his 22nd Letter (Ad Eustochium,
c. 7), which were all in vain, enables us to perceive all the
misery and hardship of this labour under the law, which
strives after a moral perfection by the way of ascetic
enthusiasm in contradiction with nature and with the will of
God, instead of seeking the true Christian perfection in the
thankful love which springs from the faith which is of grace.
1 Zockler, l.c. p. 447 f. 2 Ep. 22. 20.

3 Tischreden, \VW. 62. 120 [Tabletalk]. Cf. also 61. 2 1 0 : “ S. Jerome has
written a shameful book against Jovinian about widows who break their first
faith and fidelity ; as if it were wrong for them to wed again when the text yet
presses clearly in that direction and says : I will that the young widows marry,
etc. S. Paul says it is good not to touch a woman. From this Jerome argues :
Ergo, it is bad to marry, whereas Paul uses the phrase in the passage to signify
that it is laborious, troublesome, or difficult.”
Nevertheless the opposition to the worldly pursuits and the
luxurious sensuous life that was laying hold in the Church under
the semblance of piety, was justified and wholesome; and his
moral severity and unsparingness towards himself inspires
respect. In ethics proper he has nothing special to expound.
In the doctrine of virtue, he founds upon the Aristotelian
conception of the mean or measure ; 1 and he accepts the well-
known four cardinal virtues.12 He has not yet connected them
with the three theological virtues: fides, spes, caritas, which
became the mode of treating them from Augustine onwards.3
How much Jerome lacked the right understanding of

Christianity, is shown by his statements regarding the Lavj o f
nature. He shares this doctrine with the earlier time, which
attached itself on that point to the Stoics; and it is primarily
directed against Jewish pride when he states in his Commentary
on Isaiah xxiv. 6, that the Jews ought not to think that they
had alone received the law of the L ord: quod universe primum
gentes totusque orbis naturalem acceperit legem; but he then
goes so far as to ascribe the spirit of God to the works of this
natural law.4 This agrees with his doctrine of the freedom of
the human will, which in spite of all his polemics against
Pelagius, is yet of a Pelagianizing character: In nostro consistit
arbitrio, bonum malumve eligere. Yelle et currere meum est (only
God must undoubtedly also co-operate therewith). Nostrum
est rogare, Dei tribuere quod rogatur ; nostrum incipere, illius
perficere; nostrum offerre quod possumus, illius implere quod
non possumus. — Constat inter nos, in bonis operibus, post
propriam voluntatem Dei nos niti auxilio. Nostrum quidem est
velle et curerre, sed ut voluntas nostra compleatur et cursus,
ad Dei misericordiam pertinet, atque ita fit, ut et in voluntate
1 Life of S. Paula, c. 20 : “ According to the expression of the philosophers :

ptffirnt h άριτή, υνιρβοΧ* κακία, observing the right mean is virtue, and excess is
what is bad, which we express by the phrase : ne quid nimis.”
8 Ep. 52 ad Nepotianum, c. 13. The right ornaments are prudence, justice,
moderation, valour. “ Shut thyself into these four heavenly regions, let this
four-yoked car bring thee as a right charioteer of Christ on a straight course to
the goal,” etc. In Ep. 64 ad Fabiolam, c. 21, he illustrates them by reference
to the four sides of the breastplate of the high priest. In Ep. 66 ad Pammach.
c. 3, he refers the four virtues to Paula (justitia), her two daughters Paulina
(temperantia) and Eustochium (fortitudo, on account of her virginity), and her
son-in-law Pammachius (prudentia).
3 Zockler, lx . 455.
4 On Gal. iii. 2 : Sciebat Paulus Cornelium centurionem spiritum ex operibus
accepisse, sed non ex operibus legis, quam nesciebat.
nostra et in cursu liberum servetur arbitrium, et in consum
matione voluntatis et cursus Dei cuncta potentiae relinquantur.1
When it is said: “ I f thou wilt be perfect, sell all thou hast,”
etc., Jerome explains this passage in his letter to Pammachius,
c. 8, as meaning that perfection is thus dependent upon the
free-will. Therefore it is that virginity is not commanded, but
is left to the free-will which has to struggle for the reward.
Upon this basis of freedom also rests, according to Jerome, the
recommendation of the perfection of monasticism and of
asceticism. His attitude towards these may be indicated in
the first place by expressions from his Letter to the virgin
Eustochiuin. “ Hearken, 0 daughter, and consider and incline
thine ear; forget also thine own people and thy father’s house;
so shall the king greatly desire thy beauty.” With these
words he begins this letter, or rather treatise on virginity.
Eustochium has to beware of looking back like Lot’s wife after
she had left Sodom (c. 2). For the weakness of the flesh
(c. 3) and the temptation of the devil (c. 4) may bring about
a fall which could not again be made good (c. 5). “ Thus it
would have been better to enter into an earthly bond of
marriage and to walk upon the plain, than while striving
towards the heights of perfection to sink into the depths of
hell ” (c. 6). Again, the confessions of Jerome himself (c. 7)
are extremely characteristic with reference to the assaults of
the sensuous nature with all his asceticism; and as is easily seen,
they were occasioned just by its unnaturalness. u Oh, how
often did I believe myself, not only then when I was in the
desert and in that wild solitude, which under the burning glow
of the sun furnished but a dreadful abode for the hermits, to
be transported into the midst of the enjoyment of Roman
pleasures! My limbs, disfigured with the sackcloth, became
stiff, and the bare skin had taken the colour of Ethiopia.
Daily my tears flowed; daily did I send forth my breath in
sighs; and if at times sleep overcame me in my internal
struggle, I threw my limbs that scarcely held together upon
the bare earth. I will not speak of food and drink, since even
sick monks drink only fresh water, and it is regarded as luxury
to eat anything boiled. That self which I had myself con
demned to this prison from fear of hell, and which was only
the companion of scorpions and wild beasts, I believed, never
theless, that it, that I myself, was often transported into the
midst of the dances of girls. M y face was pale with fasting, but
the spirit burned in the cold body with hot desires, and before
the phantasy of a man who was long since dead according
to the flesh, there bubbled up only the forms of the impulses of
1 Dialog, contra Pelag. ii. Cf. Staudlin, iii. 86 f.
sense. Thus deprived of all help, I threw myself at the feet of
Jesus, watered them with my tears, dried them with my hair,
and kept down the flesh with week-long fasting. I am not
ashamed of the miserableness of my unblessed state of heart.
I remember how I often passed the day and night in cries, and
that I did not cease to punish my breast with blows till the
Lord reproved me and inward joy returned. 1 even feared my
cell as the witness of my evil thoughts, and enraged and fierce
against myself I pressed alone always deeper into the solitude.
Wherever a deep valley, a shaggy mountain, or a craggy rock
showed itself, I chose it as my place for prayer; there did I
rear the prison of my wretched sinful flesh; and there I some
times believed— the Lord Himself is my witness— that after
many tears and with eyes raised eagerly to heaven that I
dwelled at times in the midst of the society of the heavenly
angel bands, and I then sang joyously and cheerfully:
‘ Because of the savour of thy good ointments, therefore do
the virgins love m e ; draw me, we will run after thee.’ ”
However much rhetoric there may be in this description, there
remains enough of reality in it to give an impression of the useless
self-torture by which men strove to attain by their own efforts
on this supposed wav of salvation to peace, in order at the
end by a similar self-deception only to reach a state of ecstasy
like that of the Neo - Platonism of Plotinus. Men tortured
themselves in the difficulty of their own ways because they did
not know the way of peace which the certainty of the grace of
justification gives. This is the root of all these aberrations of
the prevailing ethics of that time. Hence the advice which
Jerome gives to the virgins, is not to refer them in some way to
the grace of God, but to direct them to all sorts of works of
their own. Above all he says (c. 8 ): “ Let the bride of Christ
flee from wine as poison, for wine and youth are the two in-
flammatories of lust. Why should we pour oil into the fire ? ”
Then generally he recommends fasting in order that “ the
hunger which satiety has driven out of Paradise, may again
bring us back to i t ” (c. 10). “ Hot as if God, the Creator and
Lord of the whole universe, takes pleasure in the hungry
growling of our bowels, and in our empty stomach, or in the
glow of our lungs; but chastity can be secured in no other
way.” When Job, the immaculate and innocent, says of the
devil that his power is in his loins and his strength in his navel,
it is the private parts that are meant by these words. In this
sense we ought to hold fast the lamps of the gospel with un
girded loins. “ All the power of the devil against men thus
lies in their loins, and all his power against women in the navel”
(c. 11).— Thus the whole moral task is reduced^ to a combating
of the sensuous nature; and, moreover, the combat is a very
external one. Undoubtedly that age presented even among
the Christian virgins in this very sphere a large amount of
most reprehensible sin; and Jerome speaks in the further
course of his discussion of the arts of sterilization and of abortion,
etc. (c. 13), of the so-called Agapetae, as suspected women
in the houses of the clergy and monks (c. 14), and likewise of
the flattering clergy (c. 16). He thus addresses Eustochium
(c. 18): “ Be a knightly cicada; wash thy couch every night,
and wet thy bed with thy tears. Sing psalms in the spirit,”
etc. She would have to know nothing of the judgment of con
demnation pronounced on the married: “ With pain shalt thou
bring forth children.” “ Thou shalt surely die ” is the end of
the married state. “ But my life-calling is raised above the
sex. Let the married keep their perishable union, and their
title of honour; my virginity is consecrated to me in Mary and
Christ.”— Thus should she speak (c. 18). “ The married may
seek their glory in this, that they are the next after the virgins.”
“ The storms of this world drive past and roll away over the
chariot of God as rapid as its wheels. Those may stitch
together a coat who have lost the unsewed robe which comes
from above; and they may now find a delight in the cry of
children who mourn and weep in the very first moment of their
life that they are born ” (c. 19). “ I approve of marriages, I
praise the married state, but only because it produces virgins.
I gather the rose from the thorns, gold out of the earth, the
pearl out of the oyster.” He thus rhetorically addresses a
mother: “ Art thou unwilling that thy daughter whom thou
hast carefully preserved in virginhood should not wish to be
the spouse of a subordinate soldier, but of the King himself ?
She has done thee a great benefit: thou hast become the
mother-in-law of God ” (c. 20). In the old covenant the good
of continence was only found on the side of the men. “ Eve, on
the other hand, continually brought forth children in pains.
But when the virgin brought forth, then was that curse
removed. Death is from Eve, but life is through Mary. Hence
the gift of virginhood was poured forth more richly upon women
because it had taken its beginning from a woman. As soon as
the Son of God entered into this world, He founded a new
family for Himself, that He who was formerly worshipped by
angels in heaven should also have angels on earth” (c. 21).
Jerome repeatedly brings forward “ the great troubles of
marriage” (c. 22), as if that was a right reason against it.
He does not even shrink from the use of such sophisms as this,
that the performance of the conjugal duty makes the fulfilment
of the apostolic exhortation to pray without ceasing impossible,
as prayer must then cease; and therefore that the apostolical
admonition is only compatible with virginity (c. 22). Jerome
knew men sufficiently not to be ignorant of the dangers which
threatened a virgin, especially in surroundings such as Rome
then presented ; and he gives a series of salutary exhortations
and warnings against unnecessary going out (c. 25 f.), against
an outward exhibition of piety (c. 27), and against those who
were but seemingly pious. With great vividness he describes
the gallant priests who carried the news of the city from house
to house, and made themselves favourites with the women
(c. 28); and likewise the flatteries and affectations of the
women and such like (c. 29). In order to give a warning
against improper reading, he relates his fever-dream, how he
was beaten before the judgment-seat of God at the command of
God as a Ciceronian, and was condemned to hell, and was only
let off because he promised never to read worldly books again.
After waking he found his shoulders still beaten blue, and he
felt the blows (c. 30). In order to recommend poverty and
the avoidance of avarice, he depicts the life of the Egyptian
hermits, of the irregular so - called Remoboth (c. 34), and
the monastic communities with their regulated day’s work
(c. 35), and the Anchorites (c. .36). He then passes on to
injunctions regarding the life o f prayer. “ Every one knows
the third, sixth, and ninth hours, primes and vespers. Further,
one ought not to eat without a previous prayer; and as little
should one rise from table except after offering thanksgiving to
the Creator. W e ought to rise twice or thrice in the night, and
reflect in the spirit on what we may know by heart out of holy
Scripture. When any one goes out of the house, let him arm
himself with prayer ; when any one returns from the street, let
him pray before he sits down. A t every act, at every beginning,
let the hand make the holy sign of the cross of the Lord”
(c. 37). Again the love of Christ surmounts all obstacles,
and makes everything, even what is most difficult, easy
(c. 39); and the heavenly reward indemnifies for all (c. 41).
It is evident that this so-called Letter is a complete com
pendium of the ascetic conduct of life.
This glorification o f asceticism, both by reference to its reward
and by the description of it in the brightest colours possible,
always comes up again in Jerome. Thus, when he writes to
Rufinus about his friend Bonosus who had betaken himself to
the Dalmatian islands in order to lead the life of a hermit, he
says (c. 4 ): “ He already climbs up the ladder beheld by Jacob
in his dream: he sows in tears in order to reap in joy. His
limbs stiffen under the repulsive penitential dress, but he will be
enabled the easier to meet Christ in the clouds. He does not
taste the pleasantness of lovely fountains, but lie drinks the
water of life out of the wound in the side of the Lord.”— He
blames Heliodorus for having given up his intention of becoming
a hermit. If this was out of respect for his old mother, then it
is the case that whoever puts his parents above Christ loses his
soul (c. 3). “ If thou wouldest be perfect, says the Lord, then
sell what thou hast and give to the poor.” ‘‘ Thou hast
promised Him to be perfect.” “ But the perfect servant of
Christ possesses nothing besides Christ, or he is not perfect if
he still possesses something besides Christ ” (c. 6). Such per
fection, however, is not possible in the relationships of home.
“ But not to wish to be perfect is sin ” (c. 7). “ AVhat art thou
then pursuing in the world, 0 brother, thou who art greater
than the world ? How long shall the shadows of houses hold
thee ? How long shall the prison of smoky cities enclose thee ? ”
On the other hand, he boasts of the desert thus: “ Here one
can get rid of the burden of the body and soar aloft to the pure
splendour of the ether.” In this he expresses the same mood
as we find, for instance, in the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius,
—only that Jerome knows how to heighten its effect. “ Dost
thou fear poverty ? But Christ calls the poor blessed. Does
labour frighten thee 1 But no athlete obtains the crown with
out sweat. Dost thou think of the scanty nourishment ? But
faith does not fear hunger. Dost thou shrink from stretching
thy limbs emaciated from fasting, upon the bare earth ? But
the Lord sleeps with thee. Does the uncombed hair of the
shaggy head horrify thee ? But Christ is even thy head. Does
the immeasurable breadth of the desert frighten thee ? Then
wander in the spirit through Paradise. Does the rough skin
shrivel up from want of baths ? But he who is once washed in
Christ does not find it necessary to wash himself again (c. 10).”
Therefore the dirtier the holier. Jerome thus narrates of S.
Hilarion in his description of his life (c. 10) : “ He never washed
the coarse garment which he once put on, because he thought
it was superfluous to seek cleanliness in the penitential dress.
Nor did he change his tunic until it was all worn into rags.”
If the ancient world at its close revelled in natural enjoyment
and the luxury of culture, this asceticism revels in the negation
of culture and of nature, and even in the negation of God-willed
natural feeling. In his letter to Paula (c. 5), Jerome extols the
holy Melania on the ground that when she lost her husband and
two sons in rapid succession, she did not even shed a tear, but
“ threw herself at the feet of Christ and smiled to Him as if
she held Himself embraced in her arms.” “ Now, she exclaimed,
I can serve Thee with less hindrance, since Thou hast freed me
from such a burden! ” So much had all consciousness of the
earthly calling and of its service of God vanished from this
ascetic way of thinking. This is perhaps most strongly ex
pressed in the Life o f the holy Paula, in which he tells how
she abandons her relatives and her children in order to retire
to Bethlehem (c. 6). “ The little Toxotius stretches out his
supplicating hands towards her from the bank. Eufiina, whose
marriage was at hand, conjured her silently with her tears that
she should wait for her marriage. But she, looking with dry
eyes to heaven, overcame her love for her children by her love
to God. She wished to know nothing of her motherhood, that
she might keep herself as the handmaid of Christ.” “ Among
hostile bands and in the hard necessity of imprisonment there
is nothing more cruel than when children are separated from
their parents. Here, however, the fulness of faith endured this
against the rights of nature.”— Jerome is fond of describing
marriage as “ a slavish yoke ” {e.g. in Ep. 77 to Oceanus on the
life and death of Fabiola, c. 4 ); and it is one of his favourite
themes to describe the troubles of the married state in order
thereby to support his exhortation against it, as, for instance, in
his letter to the young widow Euria, who belonged to an old
Patrician family (c. 5). He asks the question, To whom then
shall she leave her riches ? The answer is : To Christ who does
not die. Whom should she institute as her heir ? Answer:
He who is her Lord. Although her father will be sorry, yet
Christ will rejoice. Her family will be sad, but the angels will
congratulate her. But in order to preserve her chastity, con
tinence and fasting (c. 8), abstinence from the enjoyment of
wine (c. 10), and prayer and spiritual reading, are necessary
(c. 11). “ Let them eat flesh who serve the flesh, and whose
unrestrained desire is for intercourse, etc. She whose bosom
carries the fruit of the body may eat her fill of flesh.” Thus
he writes to Salvina (c. 7). He always returns to the subject
of fasting. It is almost his Alpha and Omega, the chief means
of deadening desire which he demands. And yet in his Lives
o f holy Moiilcs (Paulus, Hilarion, and Malchus), with which he
furnished a favourite romantic reading for his age, and in which
the Christian ideal was meant to be presented before its eyes, he
was himself compelled to show in his details how this unnatural
mortification only stirred up the sensible nature the more. In
his life of Hilarion he thus describes him (c. 7): “ How often did
it occur to him that when he was stretched upon his couch naked
female forms disturbed him, or when he was hungry that the most
savoury banquets presented themselves to his phantasy! ”
This asceticism was thus self-refuted. It is easy indeed to
understand how Jerome was driven to such ascetic excesses,
when we read his descriptions of the vanity, love of finery, and
carnal pleasure which prevailed even among the women, virgins
and widows, young and old, of the Christian community at
Eome, as well as the unworthy conduct of which the obsequious
and wanton clergy were guilty {ad Nepotian. c. 5, 6). It is a
repulsive picture which is here presented to our eyes, even if,
as we gladly admit, Jerome’s pen has painted its outlines in
excessive darkness. But it was not merely this opposition that
occasioned his enthusiasm for asceticism. It was also due to
the false conception of Christian perfection upon which he
founds, and which he develops especially in his polemic against
Jovinian, and which naturally and necessarily comes in wher
ever the right presupposition of the righteousness that is by
faith is wanting.

o f its Ascendancy.
3. Augustine.
Augustine1 marks the close of the previous development,

especially of the Western Church, in what was distinctive and
characteristic of i t ; and he forms the basis of the wider
development of the Western Theology in its distinction from
the Greek Theology, which remained outside of the influence
of Augustine. Of his works which belong more or less to the
department of Ethics, mention may first be made of his anti-
Manichsean writings: De moribus ecclcsice cath. et de moribus
Manichccorum; De natura boni; De continentia, c. 395 (on
Ps. cxli. 3, 4, concerning continence in opposition to the
Manichaeans); De bono conjugali, c. 400 (written against the
Manichseans on the divine institution, dignity, purpose, and
monogamic form of marriage, and the duties of the spouses to
each other). Further, we have his De sancta virginitate
(occasioned by Jovinian, having for its subject the sublimity
and higher meritoriousness of virginity, and recommending to
virgins humility, zeal in prayer, and retirement); Be bono
viduitatis, c. 4 1 4 (Ep. ad Julianam viduam); Be adulterinis
conjugiis (1 Cor. vii. 10, advocating that separated spouses
may not marry each other again); Be fide et operibus, c. 413
(on the necessity of good works for salvation); Enchiridion
1 [The Works of St. Augustine, edited (in English translation) by Marcus Dods,
D .D ., 15 vols., T. & T. Clark.]
ad Laurentium de fide, spe, et caritate, 4 2 1 ; Dc Sacra Scriptum
speculum, 428 (a collection and elucidation of moral sentences
from Scripture); De mendacio, 395 (on the question as to
whether under certain circumstances the so-called necessary
lie is permissible); Contra mendacium, 420 (against the
Priscillianists and their principle: jura, perjura, secretum
prodere noli); De opere monachorum, c. 400 (against the idle
ness, arrogance, and unsettled wandering about of the monks,
and laying down the requirement of labour: a treatise which
through Augustine’s authority became important, both in con
nection with the development of the Western Monasticism
and for the economic appreciation of labour generally); De
civitate Dei (dealing with moral subjects in various places),
and also his Confessiones (which frequently deal with moral
questions). Augustine represents the Western tendency in
its distinction from that of the Greek Church, inasmuch as to
him the preponderating importance falls upon the relationship
of man to God as it is realized in the w ill; and therefore he
lays stress chiefly on the practical side, although the motives
of knowledge also strongly influence his interest.
The tendency of his thinking, as well as the desire of his
soul, even in the time of his aberrations, led him to find the
goal and source of all being in God, and thus to make God
the starting-point of his thoughts. Being, in the metaphysical
sense and in the ethical sense, thus came to coincide in his
view, so that God was to him the true reality because He is
the essential Being, and He is likewise at the same time the
only and true good, the summum Ionum,1 This is a funda
mental thought which rules his whole thinking. Accordingly
the goal of man is union with God. This, indeed, in its full
reality is a thing of the future ; the essential life is the life of
the other world, the future life.1 2 The philosophers transfer
the highest good into this world, which, however, is refuted
by the misery of this life and the constant struggle of virtue
with the vices.3 To the Christians it lies in the other world,
the world beyond; it is perfect heavenly peace, and the
1 E.g. De mor. eccl. cath. i. 13.

2 De civ. Dei, xix. 4. Cf. on this point Herm. Reuter, Augustin, Studien vi.
Welt. u. geistl. Leben, pp. 358-478.
3 De civ. Dei, xix. 4.
enjoyment of God and in God.1 In comparison with this
the present life is not a res but a spes ; 2 it is not to be
regarded as life, but as death ;3 the Christians are but pilgrims
to the eternal life, to the heavenly country.4 This present
life is miseria ; 5 and this pessimistic way of regarding it holds
not merely of the heathen world, but also of the (outwardly)
Christian world of the Eoman empire generally.6 It is only
in the other world that the Christian first finds rest in release
from the.labour and affliction of this life (quies, vacare),7 and
the ineffable vision of truth (visio).8 In this way of deter
mining it, it is evident that the Greek motive of knowing and
of mystical vision, makes itself effective. But Augustine
likewise seeks to combine with it the Western motive of
movement and of the will. He designates that life as a
“ status motus,” as an active beholding,9 in the sense of loving;10
and he speaks in this sense of gaudere, delectari, frui.
If the opposition between the world here and the world there,
between the present and the future, thus comes prominently out,
yet Augustine endeavours again to combine these opposites;
and this he does both by the conception of being as he appre
hends it, and by his determination of the Christian life as love.
He strives to mediate these opposites, in the first place,"
through the conception of being. It was especially the
opposition to Manichceism which brought him to the apprecia
tion of this present and material world, and led him to oppose
“ an sesthetico-metaphysical optimism” 11 to the Manichsean
pessimism. For if God is the true being, He is also the being
in all that is; and everything participates in the reality of
1 L .c. 13 : Pax coelestis ordinatissima et concordissima societas fruendi Deo et
invicem in Deo.
2 Ep. 140, § 17, torn. ii. 559.
3 In comparatione vitae aeternae— non vitam sed mortem deputandam. Ep. 5
§ 2, t. ii. 190 B.
* E.g. De doctr. christ. i. 4, t. iii. 7.
5 De civ. Dei, xix. 10, t. ii. 323, § 25, 26.
6 Not only in his De civ. Dei, but also in his Sermons. Cf. Reuter, 371.
7 Sermo 339, § 6, t. viii. 1310 G. Summe vocabitur ; Sermo 340, c. 30, § 31,
t viii. 1437.
8 Patria contemplationis Angelorum, Sermo 38, c. viii. § 11, t. vii. 199, Ubi
secura quies erit et ineffabilis visio veritatis. De genesi ad literam, c. xxvi.
§ 54, t. iii. 415 D.
9 De civ. Dei, xxii. 30.
10 De gen. ad literam, xii. 31, § 59, t. iii. 419 A. 11 Reuter, p. 373.
being, in so far as it participates in God. The world, again,
is supported and penetrated by the divine presence and divine
orders; and thereby it is a magnificent work of art, a real
thing, a good. From this standpoint Augustine finds, the
appreciation of earthly goods. Kiches is not a sin ; the rich
man was not damned on account of his riches; the Synod of
Diospolis condemned the proposition attributed to the Pelagians,
that if rich men did not renounce their riches after baptism
they would have no share in the Kingdom of God.1 He thus
finds a relationship to earthly possession, to labour, and to
the State, etc.; although all these recognitions again become
traversed by the ascetic way of regarding things.
The other mode of mediation lies in the moral attitude of
love. With this we reach the special basis of the ethics of
Augustine. For if the goal of man is likeness to God and
fellowship with God, and if it is in this that his blessedness
rests,1
2 then the surrender of his will in love is that by which
this goal of blessedness is realized.3 That blessedness is union
with God as the highest g ood; and therefore it is the bond
between the heavenly world and the earthly world, between
the future and the present. For, the Christian has the eternal
life of the future already now, although hidden in h o p e ;4* and
therefore Christians, although in this world of misery, are only,
as it were, sad; whereas in truth they are always joyful.6
This joy, however, is grounded in love, which already mediates
the fruitio Dei.6 This love to God as union with Him, the
highest good, is accordingly the proper virtue ; all other virtue
which deserves this name is only the outward expression and
unfolding of this love. Virtus est ordo amoris.7 The four
1 Divites baptizatos nisi omnibus abrenuntiarent, si quid boni visi fuerint

facere, non reputari illis nec eos habere posse regnum Dei. On the other hand,
Augustine has an apologetic view of the moral significance of the earthly good.
Ep. 157, § 26, 27, 30, t. ii. 721. Cf. Uhlhorn, op. cit. 290 ff.
2 De mor. i. 18 : Secutio igitur Dei beatitatis appetitus est, consecutio autem
ipsa beatitas. At eum sequimur diligendo, consequimur vero, non cum hoc
omnino efficimur quod ipse, sed ei proximi, eiusque veritate et sanctitate penitus
illustrati et comprehensi.
3 L .c. i. 23 : Fit ergo per caritatem ut conformemur Deo, etc.
4 Habet vitam setemam, non quod patet sed quod latet. In ev. Io. c. vi.
Tract. 26, § 11, t. iv. 659 D.
4 In Ps. xlviii. Enarr. sermo, ii. § 5, t. v. 582.
* Ep. 118, 3, § 13. 7 De civ. Dei, xv. 22.
cardinal virtues, therefore, become virtues in so far as they
are manifestations of love to God : 1 temperantia, in opposition
to love of the world; fortitudo, as the overcoming of suffering
and pain by lo v e ; justitia, as service of G od ; and prudentia,
as the right distinction between what is to be avoided and
what is to be chosen.1 2 Therein consists moral perfection; 3
and Augustine determines this according to one way of con
sidering it, which certainly is broken through by another
which is the current ascetic habit of thought. In this love to
God the right self-love and neighbour-love are also grounded.4
Now, if this is the proper morality, it follows that prior to this
love we cannot speak of a true virtue, and therefore of morality
in the proper sense, and that the virtues of the heathen when
strictly taken do not therefore deserve this name; since the
soul of all morality, namely, love to God, is wanting in them,
while at their basis rather lies the prava concupiscentia which
rules man by nature.®
Again, devotion to God in love is a work of the inwardly
working grace. It is produced through the sacramental
working of the Church, which is an institution of salvation;
and as a mystical process it is effected through the influence
of the will of the divine power. The stages of this moral
transformation are the three of fides, spes, caritas. The
believing acceptance of the Christian confession is naturally
the first, and out of it grows the hope which is accompanied
1 De moribus, etc., i. 25. 15 : Itaque illas quattuor virtutes, quarum ita sit
in mentibus vis, ut nomina in ore sunt omnium, sic etiam definire non dubitem,
ut temperantia sit amor integrum se praebens ei quod amatur, fortitudo amor
facile tolerans omnia propter quod amatur, justitia amor soli amato serviens et
propterea recte dominans, prudentia amor ea quibus adjuvatur ab iis quibus
impeditur sagaciter eligens.
2 L .c. i. 35-39, 40-43, 44, 45. This determination of the relation of love to
the cardinal virtues is different from that of Thomas Aquinas, in whose view
these four cardinal virtues form the preliminary stage (of natural morality) to
the Christian virtue of love.
8 L .c . i. 46 : Haec est hominis una perfectio.
4 L .c . i. 48, 49.
6 Cf. e.g. De civ. Dei, v. 12-19, concerning the virtues of the ancient Romans.
The source of their virtues was the lust of power. Their virtues are therefore
when measured by an absolute standard to be designated as vitia (xix. 2 5 ) ;
although relatively to be called virtutes. Ep. 138, § 17 : Rempublicam, quam
primi Romani constituerunt auxeruntque virtutibus, et si non habentes veram
pietatem erga Deum, etc.
VOL. I. P
by love.1 But love is the highest and the deciding quality. For
in the judgment about the goodness of a man, it is not asked
what he believes or hopes, but what he loves; for he who
loves rightly also believes and hopes rightly.* Love is thus
the highest point, and yet again the presupposition of right
faith and hope, that is, of their inner truth.1
3 Here again we
2
recognise that old infringement and misunderstanding of the
true Biblical conception of faith, which, instead of recog
nising it as the principle, makes it only a theoretical begin
ning and stage of transition: a view which was to draw
such far - reaching consequences after it, as the whole
development of the Catholic way of thinking shows. Now
this loss of faith had to be made up for by the accentuation
of love, which— apart from the error referred to— led in
Augustine to such beautiful inwardness of disposition and
sentiment.
The accentuation of the inwardness o f the disposition
towards God as the deciding factor, likewise made possible
to Augustine a more positive relationship to the things and
orders of the natural life ; and this he reached the more
readily in connection with his anti-Manichaean attitude
towards the world of creation. In this more positive relation
to the natural life his position is also distinguished from the
one-sidedly monastic attitude of Tertullian with its flight
from the world. This difference was also occasioned by the
difference of the actual historical relationships, as they had
taken shape since Tertullian’s time. For the world had
become Christian at least outwardly, and there was thereby
required an activity to be exerted from the side of Chris
tianity upon the life of the world. This, however, pre
supposed such an estimate of that life as would make such
an activity morally possible, and would justify it. In spite
1 Ex ista fidei confessione, quae breviter symbolo continetur— nascitur spes

bona fidelium, cui caritas sancta comitatur, Enchir. c. 30. This order— fides,
spes, caritas— has continued since Augustine to be the standing order in the
Roman theology and teaching.
2 L . c . : Cum enim quaeritur utrum quisque sit bonus homo, non quaeritur
quid credat aut speret, sed quid amet. Nam qui recte amat, procul dubio recte
credit et sperat.
3 Enchir. c. 2 : Sine quo (amore) fides nihil prodest. Proinde nec amor sine
spe est, nec sine amore spes nec utrumque sine fide.
of the negative attitude, which there was an inclination to
take up towards the earthly arrangements of marriage, the
State and the service of the State, the office of a judge, the
military life, commerce and trade, etc., yet it was not possible
to withdraw oneself again from all these relations; and thus
there was no certain judgment and attitude of conscience
attained with reference to these things and questions in the
ancient Church. Augustine, by falling back so decidedly
upon the inner principle of the disposition of love on the
one hand, and selfishness on the other, thereby made possible
a more correct appreciation of the relationships of the
domestic, civil, and political life. Yet the ascetic traditions
worked also so strongly upon him that he did not advance
beyond a divided sentiment and attitude, and he was not
able to gain a self-consistent judgment. He would necessarily
have had to start quite otherwise, namely, from the certainty
of the justification of faith in order to become master of that
ascetic error, and to gain from that standpoint a correct and
single moral judgment. And thus this inner dividedness of
sentiment and judgment, which prevents the attainment of a
good and certain conscience of the natural tasks of life, goes
down through the whole following period of the Middle
Ages, and forms the inheritance of the Eoman Church
generally.
To show this by an instance in detail,1 we may refer to
his judgment concerning the State. His view of this subject
is given mainly in his well-known work, Be civitate Dei,
which became a standard for the following time, although
understood in a too external sense. Augustine, in this
principal work of his life, contrasts the two Civitates with
each other, as they proceed from Cain and Abel through all
following tim e:— the earthly civitas with its principle of
self-love going down to contempt of God, and the heavenly
civitas with its principle of love to God going up to contempt
of one’s own self (xiv. 6). Hence these two Civitates, which
he thus contrasts, are not to be at once identified with Church
and State, although they find in these a certain outward
organization, on which account what holds of the former has
been directly transferred to the latter. For Augustine the
1 Cf. Reuter, op. cit. 135 ff., 375 ff.
State in itself is not the organism of sin ; 1 it is much rather
the reaction against it. In it there rules a justitia, although
in a relative sense; it is a moral commonwealth ; and it has
even, since Constantine and Theodosius, occupied a positive
relationship towards Christianity. The times are now Chris
tiana tempora, and the imperium is a Christianum.1 23 The
antagonism to the Donatists already gave Augustine occasion
to stand up for the moral dignity of the State. “ In this
relation Augustine has accomplished more than any author
before him.” 8 But just because the vocation of the State is
the felicitas terrena temporalis, it has only a relative end,
whereas the Church has an absolute en d; and the State can
only realize that relative end by subordinating its task to
that of the Church, and making itself serviceable for it. The
Church alone is the supernatural magnitude and the infallible
authority. It is the appearance of the Kingdom of G od ; and
not merely as communio sanctorum, but also as the empirical
Church. Thus there is still lacking here a correct apprecia
tion of the State. Nor does Augustine show any inward
interest for the State ; we find no patriotic sympathy where we
could not but expect it. It is not a member of the Kingdom
of God. The Kingdom of God is conceived as exclusively
transcendent, and as ecclesiastical, not as ethical. Hence
there does not go out from this Kingdom of God any activity
of moral renovation upon the political life. And the Roman
empire perished in the storms of the great movement of the
peoples, while the Church remained as the only external
support. It appeared to carry the seal of imperishableness
on its forehead, while the State appeared as a perishable
thing. It was thus natural that the mediaeval system should
rise upon the basis of Augustine’s views.
This dividedness of sentiment and attitude, likewise shows
itself in relation to the other things of the natural life. Thus
it comes out in reference to earthly possession. Augustine
(and the Synod of Diospolis in opposition to the Pelagians)
had recognised the right of earthly possession. The inequality
1 Cf. Reuter, l.c. 138, against the view of Ritschl, Jahrbb. f. d. Theol. xvi.
2 0 1 ; and Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 xii. 603.
* De gratia Christi et de pecc. orig. if. 17, § 18, t. xiii. 324.
3 Reuter, l.c. p. 143.
of goods had already occasioned some internal unrest in the
second century. W e find a series of expressions in the old
teachers of the Church which gave utterance to the com
munistic thought.1 By nature, all men have the same right
to earthly goods; wealth springs from injustice; and Ambrose
even designates it as wicked usurpation.2 And although
there are expressions in the Fathers which run otherwise,
some of them even in Ambrose, yet these only show that the
Fathers did not wish to do away with property. On this
point Augustine takes a more correct stand than Ambrose;
the opposition to the Donatists drove him to a more correct
view.3 But he is not logical in detail. Poverty stands
higher in his view. In one place, he knows that the external
is not decisive, and that the rich and poor are capable of
being equally saved and can be blessed.4 Again, he desig
nates external possession as a chain which it is well to shake
off, and he recommends the consilium paupertatis. He who
renounces the possessio rei privatse, stands higher than he
who only renounces the amor possessionis.5 Works are also
specially and highly estimated along with the disposition.6
Augustine, too, regards alms as wiping away sin.7
He takes a similar position with regard to the question of
marriage and virgmity. Marriage is estimated as a sacra
mentum, and again virginity is sacred : 8 conjugal community
is only permitted by the Apostle,9 while the state of the
unmarried is higher;10 the palma majoris gloriae,11 the egregia
gloria,12 is assigned to the unmarried. Thus, on the one hand,
we have the striving to reduce everything to the disposition;
1 Cf. Uhlhorn, l.c. p. 289 f. 2 Forster, Ambrosius, p. 195.
3 E.g. Ep. 175, § 36 : “ Our possession belongs in fact to the poor, for whom
we are in a certain sense stewards ; and we are not to appropriate their pro
perty by damnable usurpation.”
4 In Ps. 75, Enarr. § 3, t. v. 988. Sermo 50, § 5, 6 A, t. viii. 278.
5 In Ps. 131, § 6, t. vi. 855 D, 866 A : Abstineamus ergo a possessione rei
privatse, aut ab amore, si non possumus a possessione et facimus locum domino.
6 A. Dorner, pp. 212-219.
7 Sermo 42, 1. 210, 12. 206, 2. 83, 2. Uhlhorn, l.c. 273. Enchir. xvi. 70.
8 De bono conjug. c. 24, § 32, t. xi. 755 D. De bono viduitatis, c. 4, § 5,
t. xi. 802 F.
9 De mor. eccl. cath. c. 78, 79 : Nam non attingere mulierem summum
ostendit esse— huic autem conjugalis castitas proxima est.
10 De bono conjug. c. 22, § 27, 28. 11 De virgin, c. 18, § 18, t. xi. 770.
12 L.c. 14, § 14, t. xi. 768 C.
and, on the other hand, we see again how the traditional way
of thinking asserts itself, which lays value above all on works,
and determines thereby the conception of perfection.
And, in like manner, the conception of Christian perfection
in Augustine is also a divided one, and he has not over
come the traditional idea. In his view the true perfection is
a heavenly goal and good, which we only advance towards
here; 1 we do not possess it, for in Christians there is also
still the concupiscentia carnalis,12 while perfection consists in
the dilectio Dei.3 On the other hand, he shares the prevailing
notion of the quantitative perfection of external achievements
and abstinences. The peccata venialia can be cancelled by
the Lord’s Prayer, or fasting, or alms,4— these three ancient
heads of legal righteousness (Matt, vi.),— so that they do not
endanger the salvation of the soul. The fulfilment of the
consilia evangelica, with their “ flying above what is allowed,”
helps to the attainment of a height of the Christian life
which overpasses the common Christian life: an excelsior
perfectio, an excelsior sanctitatis gradus.5 To withdraw from
the political and social life to the spiritual ascetic life, and in
this sense to realize the following of Christ, appears to him
ultimately as the earthly perfection of the Christian man.6
The Imitatio of the example of Christ has a greater significance
in Augustine than was formerly the case, especially in Greek
theology. This became a theme of the following times,
especially of the Middle Ages. But this imitation refers
particularly to His sufferings,7 or at least to His humilitas;
here we ought to walk in His ways in order to enter in
through His door.8
This position is therefore at bottom that of the denial of
the world as it is exhibited pre-eminently in the monastic
1 Sermo 269, 14, § 18, t. viii. 818 C.

2 De perfectione just. c. 8, § 19, t. xiii. 216 F.
3 De moribus, etc., i. 46.
4 Alms and fasting are “ the wings of piety." Sermo 206.
5 Vgl. De bono conjug. c. 23, § 30. Ep. 157, c. 4, § 29, t. ii. 222 D. De
virgin. 30, § 30, t. xi. 779 A. Ep. 157, c. 4, § 25, t. ii. 721 A. De opere
monachorum, c. 6, § 19, t. viii. 1833 B.
® Renuntiare huic seculo. In Ps. 113. Enarr. Sermo i. § 3, t. vi. 593 A.
7 Vgl. Sermo 304, 2, t. v. 861 E.
8 In Ps. 90. Enarr. Sermo i. t. iv. 722 F, 723 A.
7 %
asceticism. Ια short, Augustine’s Christian ideal of life is
also the monastic ideal. Accordingly he introduced monas-
ticism into Northern Africa. It is true that he shows a
keen zeal against the indolence, arrogance, and laziness of
the monks; and in his important writing, De opere monachorum,
he demands labour and secures it for the Western monasticism,
thereby promoting its greater healthfulness in contrast to that
of the East. Yet monasticism is in his view a higher state,
and the monastery is an anticipation of the future heavenly
Jerusalem.1 Nor is labour advocated in such a sense that it
would be a protection from mystical ecstasy. The inmost
desire of Augustine still aimed at a rapi in Deum,1 2 a subvehi,
volitare to the amplexus Dei,3 to the pulchritudinis contem
platio.4 And although all this is only the expression of a
not unjustified glow of love to God, yet the rapi in Deum
sicut solet in vehementiori ecstasi5' still sounds ecstatically,
and the door is thus opened to the mystical manifestations of
a Neo-Platonic, although falsely christianized, sentiment.
His accentuation of grace strongly reminds us of Paul,
and it included a rich and correct evangelical element in
opposition to the prevalence of the disposition to found upon
works in the usual Christianity of those centuries'. Never
theless this was not able to overcome the fatal errors of the
moral way of thinking as they then worked themselves out
always more strongly, nor could it bring Augustine himself
to a single consistent mode of thinking. The ground of this
lies in the fact that he did not turn back sufficiently to the
central point of the Pauline conception. His interest was
not pre-eminently the personal relationship of the certainty of
salvation in faith, but it is the striving after sanctification in
love, which according to the determining power of the will of
God has to be worked in the individuals through the mysterious
operation of grace by means of the sacraments of the Church.
Augustine thus reaches an ethic of a mystical character which
is compatible with the externality of works. And because it
1 De opere mon. c. 25, § 32, t. viii. 1840 D.

2 De gen. ad lit. xii. 26, § 53, t. iii. 414 A.
3 De mor. eccl. cath. i. 22, § 41, t. i. 881.
4 L .c. i. 31, § 66, t. i. 897 B, C.
6 Ep. 147, 13, § 31, t. ii 633.
does not possess the right order of the relationship to God,
neither is it able to find the right relationship to the world.
Nor did it lead beyond the limit of the false ascetic way of
thinking, or consequently of the double Christian morality.

o f its Ascendancy.
4. Pelagius.
The leaders of the Pelagian opposition1 did not differ

with their opponents of the orthodox party in their view
of the monastic ideal, but in accordance with that ideal
they only drew from their standpoint other consequences in
reference to the moral capacity of man. This is a proof that
that ideal stands in a relation of indifference to the funda
mental question of Christianity regarding divine grace, and
therefore that it did not spring from essentially Christian
roots, but arose on the basis of another way of thinking,
and was only taken over and christianized by the Church.
Pelagius (Expositiones in Epp. Pauli, Ep. ad Demetriadem;
Libellus fidei ad Innocentium; all contained in Opp. Hieron.
ed. Martianay, v.) believed that he was representing the
interest of morality in setting himself in opposition to
Augustine’s doctrine of grace. For as all morality pre
supposes the moral self-responsibility of the individual and
is conditioned by the self-activity of the will, while both of
these conditions require the moral capacity, then on the
ground of this divinely given capacity (posse) and the
accessory divine support in the law and teaching and
example of Christ, the velle et perficere must be conceded
to man; and this accordingly refutes a doctrine of grace
which denies that capacity to man, and consequently denies
morality. Pelagius therefore is at one with his opponents in
so far as he takes his position in the will, on the common
Western basis; only he believes, in accordance with the
superficial views of morality that obtain at all times, that he
can only save morality by starting from the moral goodness
1 Wiggers. J. L. Jacobi, Die Lehre des Pelagius, Lpz. 1842. Klasen, Innere
Entwicklung des Pelagianismus, Freib. 1882. Moller in Herzog, xi. 407.
of human nature as given in experience, and he does not per
ceive that he just thereby makes true morality impossible.
Again, in his conception of freedom, he comes into touch
with the Greek Church by deriving the (real) capacity for
morality from the (formal) freedom which belongs to the
essence of the human personality; but the accentuation of
subjective freedom in the Greek Church had not only another
ground of opposition than it has in Pelagius, namely, that of
the gnostic doctrine of natural necessity and not primarily
that of grace, but it was held in balance in the Greek Church
by a much fuller and deeper appreciation of the objective
revelation of God in the incarnation of Christ. Pelagius
undoubtedly comes into touch with the moralizing tendency
of the Greek Church, which had put the natural moral law
and its fulfilment as a way of salvation along with faith and
the divine saving operations of the sacraments, and he drew
the consequence of this position. While in the Greek Church
the two factors— moralism and the dispensing of grace by
the Church — proceeded without mediation side by side,
Pelagius and Ccelestius, from regard to the former, set aside
the latter; and although they accepted in the grace of the
Church a means of lightening the moral activity, they com
pleted the consequent moralization of the Church.1 On this
way, again, Pelagius in his endeavour to promote a moral
improvement of Christendom, came ultimately also to that
moral estimate of the Christian perfection of the conduct of
life which generally ruled the Church of that time, and which
may be summed up thus: The bad is forbidden, the good is
commanded, the intermediate is left free, and the perfect is
counselled. W e can do what is permitted with less reputa
tion, or can keep ourselves from it for the sake of a higher
reward.2 The state of monasticism is therefore the state of
perfection. Pelagius also wished by his own moral principles
to prevent the degeneracy of this state, while according to his
opinion the Augustinian doctrine of grace only promotes
1 Cf. Reuter, Augustin. Studien, Gotha 1887, p. 39 f.
2 Cf. Ep. ad Demetriadem (Aug. Opp. t. xvi.), c. 9 (152 A ) : overpassing the
Law plus facere (c. 10, 152 D ) ; c. 27 (179 F), voluntas perfecta faciendi reputatur
a Deo pro perfectis. As sinlessness consists in the fulfilment of the divine com
mandments, perfection appears to stand above sinlessness, although Pelagius
has not said as much in words.
laxity and slackness in the monastic life. Here we have
the same view of the moral as before, namely, that a certain
external form of the moral conduct, whether positive or
negative, establishes a distinction in the essence of morality.
This is again the common error.
§ 44. The fruitless opposition.
There were some who sought to set themselves against this

error which identified the moral with its form, and asserted in
consequence a double morality.
1. Jovinian1 lived in the second half of the fourth century,
and died probably before 406 a . d . Although himself an
ascetic monk, he wrote a treatise, since lost, in which he
argued on Biblical grounds against monasticism, and against
the over-estimation of the unmarried life 2 and the require
ment of the celibacy of the clergy, as well as against the
meritoriousness of fasting and of martyrdom. There is only
one Christian morality, and it has not such stages.3 Baptism
and faith make the Christian, and not differences in the out
ward conduct of life. There are only righteous men and
sinners, sheep and goats, wise and foolish virgins; and the
hire of the labourers in the vineyard is the same for all.
But these thoughts stood in too strong opposition to the whole
of the prevailing way of thinking in the Church for them
to be able to assert themselves and to be carried out.4 More-
1 Hieron. aclv. Jovin., Libri iii. (written c. 393 in Bethlehem). Br. Lindner,
De Joviniano et Vigilantio purioris doctrinse antesignanis, Lips. 1840. Zockler,
Hieronymus, 1865, p. 194 ff. Wagenmann in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 vii. 127.
2 Not against celibacy itself: Non tibi facio, virgo, injuriam ; elegisti pudi
citiam etc. ne superbias.
3 Sicut sine aliqua differentia graduum Christus in nobis est, ita et nos in
Christo sine gradibus sumus.
4 Jovinian was excommunicated in Rome by Siricius, and then in Milan by
Ambrose. He died in exile before 406 a . d . Cito ista hseresis oppressa et
exstincta est. Aug. de liaer. 82.— Hieron. adv. Jovin. libri duo, sums up the
heresies of Jovinian, i. 3, in the following terms : dicit virgines, viduas et
mulieres, quae semel in Christum lote sunt, si non discrepent ceteris operibus,
eiusdem esse meriti; nititur approbare eos, qui plena fide in baptismate renati
sunt, a diabolo non posse subverti; tertium proponit, inter abstinentiam
ciborum et cum gratiarum actione perceptionem eorum nullam esse distantiam ;
quartum, quod est extremum, esse omnium, qui suum baptisma servaverint,
unam in regno coelorum remunerationem.
over his opposition appeared too abstract, and to be too little
justified in principle. Keander and others have compared him
with Luther; but in order to be entitled to this, he would have
had to found his ethical opposition much more decidedly and
in principle on the Pauline doctrine of justification by faith.
2. Helvidius, about the same time, in a treatise written
before 383 a .d ., further contested the high position assigned
to the unmarried state by combating the view of the per
petual virginity of the mother of the Lord. He controverted
the whole ascetic tendency of the time, including celibacy, self-
chosen poverty, solitude, and the monastic ethics generally, while
at the same time he specially set himself against the adoration
of martyrs, which was designated by him as heathenish.
3. Vigilantius1 objected to the worship of martyrs.2 He
asked whether the martyrs were omnipresent or fluttered
about their relics, so that they should be invoked just there;
and he set forth well-grounded critical objections to the
alleged miracles which were connected with the martyrs and
their relics. He maintained, against the view of monastic
perfection, that the using of one’s own goods in continual
benefits to the poor is better than the divestment of oneself
of them once for all. I f the Christian perfection consisted
in poverty, this asceticism would properly have to be exercised
by all. But this is not possible; for who then would look
after the Churches, etc. In thus rejecting monasticism
proper, he also rejected the semi-monasticism of the clergy,
and the questionable experiences already had of the celibacy
of the priests appeared to justify his view. It is sound
common sense which speaks in Vigilantius, whereas the
kindred opposition of Jovinian was based on more learned
grounds. Against the laws of fasting as in contradiction
with Christian liberty, Aerius had already combated, c. 360.
But the churchly development swept over all these stirrings
of a sounder ethical way of thinking.
1 Hieron. contra Vigilantium liber unus. Zockler, Hieron. p. 303 ff.
Uhlhorn, p, 311 f. Herm. Schmidt, P. R .-E .2 xvi. 460 ff*.
2 Jerome, Ep. (Ep. 109 ad Ripar. c. 1), calls such cinerarios et idololatras, qui
mortuorum hominum ossa veneremur. Contra Vigilant, c. 4 : Inter cetera
verba blasphemiae ista quoque dicentum: Quid necesse est, te tanto honore non
solum honorare, sed etiam adorare illud nescio quid, quod in modico vasculo
transferendo colis?— Quid pulverem linteamine circumdatum adorando oscularis?
The representative spokesman of the dominant churchly
view was Jerome; and his polemic likewise determined the
personal judgment regarding these opponents for the follow
ing times. Jerome's polemic is violent and passionate even
to the use of the strongest indignities; and it was all the
more so that those thoughts found an echo here and there,
especially in lay circles, so that it appeared to him advisable
to intimidate his antagonists by the violence of his retorts,
and thus to extinguish these movements in the germ. The
opposition had only directed its attack against the external
phenomena, it had not struck the root of the aberrations them
selves. Jerome succeeded in killing the opposition for a long
time, and saving the supremacy of the ascetic ideal in the Church.
§ 45. Representatives o f the Ascetic Ideal.
This ascetic ideal found its representation in a whole series

of ecclesiastical writers belonging to that age and the period
immediately following it.1
1. Rufinas' born c. 345, in Aquileia or in its neighbour

hood, became the mediator of the Greek literature by his
translations and editions.2 He also continued the Church
History of Eusebius. He was a friend and representative of
the ascetic life, and he describes its representatives in his
Vitee Patrum or Historia Eremitica (in thirty-four chapters) in
remembrance of his visit to the famous hermits in the ascetic
desert and the Nitrian mountains. This work was composed
in compliance with the frequently expressed wish of the
monks of the Mount of Olives, where he had settled in order
to show to others the way of piety and of asceticism. The
book was meant to act as a propaganda of monasticism * and
flight from the world with its temptations. It has at times
something of the attractiveness of Eobinson Crusoe;4 and as
1 On Rufinus, see Moller in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 xiii. 98. Ebert, Geschiclite
tier Liter, des M .-A . im Abendland, i. 308 ff.
2 Especially Origen’s De principiis, e tc .; the Instituta monachorum of Basil
as well as Homilies of Basil and Gregory Nazianzen.
* Dum gestorum unusquisque inflammatus horrescere quidem seculi illecebris,
sectari vero quietem et ad pietatis invitatur exercitia.
4 Ebert, l.c. 313. ·
Luther acknowledges, with much that is foolish and insipid,
it is not without edifying passages in which a sound morality
is preached in a popular and practical way. But there are
here found already in germ the manifold manifestations of
the asceticism of a later time, and of the different monastic
orders.— The ascetic tendency ruled the time, and we find it
in a whole series of writers. Among these may be mentioned
Sulpicius Severus,1 who was born about 360 in Aquitania,
and of a distinguished family. In his Vita S. M artini
(Martin of Tours, the apostle of Gaul and the founder of
monasticism there) he portrayed the life of a saint, which,
with its massive narratives of miracles, was not less accept
able to the taste of the time than the Vitee Patrum o f
Rufinus. That a man like Sulpicius Severus should so
credulously accept and relate all these wonderful miracles,
shows that the phantasy of the time had then obtained such
power over the minds of men in consequence of asceticism as
to create a new world of Christian legend.1 2 The two Dialogi,
which Sulpicius also wrote at a later date, c. 405 A .D., describe
in the form of a romantic description of a journey, and with
the adornment of all kinds of miracles, the monastic and
hermit life of Egypt. They were designed to supplement on
a wider scale the miraculous life of S. Martin. In these
writings Sulpicius aims at appearing as the advocate of
monasticism against the opposing secular clergy, who are
undoubtedly described as greatly secularized; and he wishes
to stir up an enthusiasm for the ascetic life. An interesting
passage in the First Book of the Vita, shows how certain
evangelical objections were raised against this mode of
Christian perfection. They set forth the fulfilment of
one’s calling in' the world as the more correct manner of
life ; but such objections were repudiated as diabolical
temptations.3
1 Cf. Ad. Harnack in Herzog, xv. 62. Ebert, l.c.

2 Ebert, l.c.
3 I. 22 tells of a young man who gave up his office as a military tribune, left
his wife and little son, and became a monk in the desert. After four years he
had almost reached the example of the old monks, cum interim subiit cogitatio,
injecta per diabolum quod rectius esset, ut rediret ad patriam filiumque unicum
ac domam totam cum uxore salvaret. Quod utique esset acceptius Deo, quam
si solum se seculo eripere contentus salutem suorum non sine impietate
2. John Cassian,1 the semi - Pelagian, a contemporary of
Jerome and Augustine, was one of the most influential
representatives of monasticism in the West. He was born
in the West, but was educated in the East, in a monastery at
Bethlehem. From 390 he was for seven years a companion
and always an admirer of the Egyptian hermits, as well as
of Chrysostom. He introduced the Egyptian monasticism in
a modified form into Provence. This occasioned his treatise
Be coenobiorum institutis in twelve Books, which first contains
regulations regarding the external life of the monks. In the
last eight Books, under the title “ Colluctatio adversus octo
principalia vitia,” he treats of the struggle and victory over
the eight principal vices and temptations, especially of the
monastic life: excess, unchastity, avarice, anger, sadness,
gloominess, dulness (acedia), vainglory (cenodoxia) and
pride,2 a book being dedicated to each vice. The monks
form the “ family of Christ,” 3 and their life is the way to
“ the highest summit of perfection.” 4 He who has once entered
upon this “ evangelical ” way is not to leave it again in order
to plunge into the whirl of the world ; nor is he, contrary to
Christ’s word, “ to descend from the roof of perfection ” in
order to fetch something from what he had renounced.5 The
monks are the “ few who are elected.” 6 Cassian further
wrote a work, entitled Collationes Patrum xxiv. : Conver
sations with the Fathers of the desert, in which the ideal of
the monastic life is presented,— a handbook for monks and
hermits for the practice of perfection. On the one side, he
regards the external severance from the world as only a
means of sanctification, and not sanctification itself; the goal
of all exercises and struggles is purity of heart, and perfect
love is the highest of the virtues.7 Again, on the other side,
negligeret. But as a punishment for this sin he became possessed, and had to
be bound ; and thus he was gradually delivered again from his fa lsa jmtitia, and
became a model of the monastic life.
1 H. Thiersch in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 iii. 156. Nirschl, Lehrb. der Patrologie,
iii. 84 ff.
2 Akin to the later number of seven (comprised in the term “ Saligia ” ), bat
without invidia, and with tristitia and cenodoxia.
3 Institt. iv. 5. 4 Institt. iv. 8. 38. 5 Institt. iv. 36. 6 L.c. iv. 38.
7 Institt. iv. 39. 43. . The order of the way to perfection : the beginning is
the fear of the Lord ; from it springs -wholesome contrition, from this renun-
he does not deny the externalities and minutiae of this life
of sanctification,1 and the more than Stoical dulling of those
who belong to it both in respect of joy and sorrow.2
W e may quote a few passages from Cassian.* “ There are three

things which make the restless spirit stable in itself (stabilem
faciunt): watching, contemplation, and prayer. The constant
and attentive exercise of these procures for the soul a fixed
stability.” 4 “ There is no vice which so destroys all the virtues,
and robs and divests man of all righteousness and holiness, as
the evil of pride.” 5 “ Therefore let the warrior of Christ, who
desires rightly to fight the spiritual fight and to be crowned by
the Lord, strive to kill any way this savage monster which
swallows up all the virtues.” “ For in no way will the building
of the virtues be able to rise in our soul, unless previously the
foundations of a true humility have been laid in our heart,
which when firmly laid may be able to support the summit of
perfection and of love.” e “ Humility is the teacher of all the
virtues, the firmest foundation of the heavenly building, the
most proper and glorious gift of our Saviour.” 7 On ascetic
abstinence from food, etc., he speaks as follows: “ Hence not
only must the excessive desire for food be slain by the con
templation of the virtues, but even the necessary demands of
nature must not be satisfied without inner anxiety, just as if
they were hostile to our purity.” 8 “ Through no virtue do
carnal (bodily) men become so like the spiritual angels in their
conduct as through the merit and the grace of chastity, by
which while they still tarry on earth they have, like the apostle,
their conversation in heaven (Phil. iii. 20), since they already
possess here in the fragile body what it is promised they will
receive only in the future after laying aside this corruptible
flesh.” 9 “ It is a greater miracle to extinguish in our own
body the tinder of evil desire than to drive out the unclean
spirits from the bodies of others; and it is a more glorious sign
elation, then humility, from it the slaying of the desires, from this purity of
heart, and with this one possesses the perfection of love.
1 Thus in Institt. i. 3 ff. he treats in detail of the different parts and kinds of
the monk’s dress; in ii. 2 ff. he treats of the number of the psalms and
prayers that were to he gone over, of the posture at prayer, e tc .; and in vi. 7 ff.
he speaks of nocturnal pollutions, and of checking them.
2 Collat. xxiv. 11. 3 Nirschl, l.c. 91 f. 4 Collat. x. 14.
4 Institt. xii. 3. 6 Institt. xii. 32. 7 Collat. xv. 7.
8 Institt. v. 14. This is the same view and attitude as is attributed to
Plotinus.
9 Institt. vi. 6, v. 1 4 : “ Although living in the flesh, the happiness of the
fature home is already enjoyed through the inner vision.”
to subdue the wild movements of wratli by the virtue of
patience than to command the powers of the air. And it is
more to have excluded the gnawing diseases of sadness out of
our own heart than to have driven away the bodily diseases
and fever of another.” 1
3. Prudentius2 describes the struggle of the virtues with

the vices, as he was enjoined to do by Cassian. He was born
in 348 at Terracona in Spain. A t first he devoted himself
to the political career of an advocate. Afterwards he applied
himself to earnest Christian poetry in his Psychomachia, an
allegorical poem consisting of 91 δ hexameters. In his picture
of the conflict of the soul between the spiritual and the carnal
man, there is at the same time exhibited the opposition of
Christianity to heathenism. The conflict is opened, 1. by jFaith,
who appears on the scene in a peasant garb with bare
shoulders, trusting to his strength, and challenging opponents.
Against him there rises Idolatry, regarded in the ancient
Church as the chief deadly sin, and according to Tertullian as
including all the vices in herself. She is overthrown by
Faith. Then appears 2. Chastity (Pudicitia), a virgin in
glittering arms. She is attacked by the Sodomite Libido, the
greatest of the furies, with a pitchy torch of burning sulphur;
but the fury is cut down. After the untouched virgin has
borne the God-man, lust has no longer any rights, and all flesh
is now ennobled; and this is triumphantly proclaimed by
Pudicitia in a long discourse. The 3rd virtue is Patience,
already so beautifully celebrated by Tertullian. She appears
with earnest countenance, and stands immovable amidst the
uproar of the conflict. Anger rushes to attack her, but his
bolts rebound from the triple mail which protects her. Then
4. Pride (Superbia) rushes to the attack in a fluttering mantle,
on an unbridled horse, which is covered with a lion’s skin, and
threatens the poor crowd which is led by Humility (Humilitas),
who has associated hope with her as her companion. They
1 Collat. xv. 8 ; Institt. v. 4 1 : “ The monk must bridle the passions, forget
injuries, despise sadness and pain, and contemn losses.” This is the ideal of
the Stoics.
* Clem. Brockhaus, Aur. Prud. Clem, in seiner Bedeutung fur die Kirche
seiner Zeit, Lpz. 1872. Bahr, Die christl. Dichter u. Geschichtschreiber
Roms, 2 Aufl., Karlsr. 1872. Especially Ebert, Gesch. der christl. lat. Liter,
pp. 241-283, and P. R .-E .2 xii. 306 if.
are followed by the always indigent Justice, poor Honesty
(Honestas), dry Sohernessy pale Fasting, softly blushing Shame,
and open Simplicity. But Superbia plunges into the ditch
which Fraus had dug for h e r ; and Hope reaches Humility
the sword with which she beheads her enemy. A new
enemy appears 5. in Luxury (Luxuria), a drunken female
dancer with scented hair, wanton looks, and languishing voice,
seated on a magnificent four-yoked chariot, and with violets
and rose leaves as her weapons of war. The army led by
the Virtues make ready to draw their weapons against her,
and Soberness (Sobrietas) plants the standard of the cross in
the ground and encourages the Christian troops; Luxury
falls; her army (Jocus, Petulantia, Pompa, Voluptas) flees,
and the ground is covered with spoil. Then comes 6. Avarice
(Avaritia) to pick up the spoil with her daughters: Care,
Hunger, Fear, Anguish, Perjury, Terror (Pallor), Corruption,
Deceit, Lying, Sleeplessness, Dirt (Sordes), and they ransack
the field like wolves. The poet vividly describes the destruc
tive work of Avaritia among men of every class; she assumes
the form of economy and deceives the Christians. And now
the army of the Virtues is wavering, whereupon Operatio, the
beneficent mercifulness, springs forth to the duel, and throttles
Avaritia. The Cares flee; Peace drives war away, and
Concordia has the victorious eagles carried into the camp.
Then Discordia, surnamed Haeresis, attacks Concordia; but
Fides, the Queen of the Virtues, pierces her tongue, and the
army tears her in pieces. A temple is then built according
to the Apocalyptic model of the heavenly Jerusalem, in which
Wisdom is enthroned.— We see how the fundamental truth
of apostolical Christianity is here maintained ; Faith is the
queen of the virtues, just as Clement of Rome calls her
πανάρετος. But undoubtedly the conception of Faith itself
has become changed. It designates the connection with the
Church; and the thought of the allegory is that it is only
through his firm attachment to the Church in dogma and
morals that the Christian conquers heathenism, and prevails
against the assaults that are also waged upon him within himself.
4. Oricntius gives expression to similar thoughts in his
Commonitorium (in two Books and 1036 verses),1 in which
1 Ebert, l.c. i. 395. Nirschl, l.c. iii. 172 ff.
VOL. I. Q
he aims at showing the true way to life, and exhorting to it.1
The First Book treats of chastity, envy, and avarice. The
Second Book treats of vanity, lying, gormandizing, and
drunkenness. While the punishments of hell wait on these
vices, the just will shine like radiant lights. Great is the
trouble which it costs to ascend from earth to heaven, but
great also is the reward.1 2 The melancholy state of Gaul
gave occasion for such thoughts.3 It is characteristic that
the foremost place is given to chastity. That was the ideal
of those times.
5. Leo the Great repeatedly gave expression to this ideal.
W e have it expressed in his Letters, in which he says that
the clergy must be unmarried “ in order to exhibit the purity
of perfect continence,” 4 as well as in the Church prayer
relating to the God-consecrated virgins5 for whom supplica
tion is made, that God “ will not only repone them into the
innocence of their first origin, but also lead them to parti
cipation in goods which are to be had in the new time, and
that He will raise those who have stood fast in the state of
mortals now, to resemblance with the angels.” Blessed
virginity “ was betrothed to the marriage bed and to the
bridal chamber of Him who is the bridegroom of the per
petual virgin, just as He is the Son of the perpetual virgin.”
6. Avitus, Bishop of Lyons, c. 490 A.D., a chief pillar of
the Catholic Church in the Kingdom of Burgundy, also wrote
a poem on the same subject. It is entitled Be consolatoria
laude castitatis ad Fuscinam sororem, and it contains 660
hexameters. It is addressed to his sister, who was a nun
from childhood, but who appeared to feel the burden of
virginity. He comforts her by a glorification of it, and on
the other hand by terrifying descriptions of marriage, which
appears to him only as concubinage. — His contemporary,
Gennadius of Marseilles, also says: “ Good is marriage ; better
is continence: but more excellent than both is virginity.” 6
He likewise rejects “ the blasphemy ” of Helvidius.
1 Vita docenda mihi est, vita petenda tibi. 2 V . 87-90.

3 Mors, dolor, excidium, strages, incendia, luctus, uno fumavit Gallia tota
rogo, v. 183 f.
4 Ep. 14, c. 4 ; 167, c. 3. 8 Liber Sacrament, n. xxx.
e De eccl. dogm. c. 63 f.
7. The ideal of asceticism was realized above all in
monasticism, and it had its place in the monastery. Benedict
of Nursia 1 (b. 480 at Nursia to the north of Borne, t 543)
marks the beginning of the advance to the characteristic
Western formation of monasticism by his epoch-making Buie
(529 a . d .) with its seventy-three regulations. It enjoins the
closed monastery— with humility as the foremost virtue, as
well as the combination of manual labour and the .reading
of Scripture, for the monastic life.12 Tor although labour was
not alien to the Western monasticism, yet its characteristic
was contemplation. Benedict himself had no thought as yet
of any activity of the monastery directed outwards, nor of
any task imposed upon it for the sake of the world and the
Church. In his view the monastery is only a place of refuge
and a school for the exercise of holiness. But his beginning
found, especially through Cassiodorus and Gregory the Great,
a richer development and high ecclesiastical estimation, and,
in the course of history, many transformations and offshoots.
The old fundamental thought remained continually the same,
that monasticism is the realized ideal of Christianity.
Entrance into the monastery was called Conversio; the monks
were called conversi or religiosi; and monasticism was called
religio. In these designations there is expressed that under
standing of Christianity which lay at the basis of the system
and which ruled the minds of the time.
8. Cassiodorus3 (t c. 570, aged ninety-three years) withdrew
about the year 540 from the high position he held in the
Ostrogoth Court to his monastery of Vivarium in Bruttium,
which he had richly equipped with the means of erudition.
There he began a great literary activity, and thus added this
spiritual task to that which Benedict had imposed on his
monks, so that corporeal labour was only to take the place of
spiritual labour in the case of those who were incapable of
it. After this example the monasteries became asylums of
science, in which the ancient and the ecclesiastical literature
1 Gregory the Great in Book II. of his Dialogi. A . Vogel in Herzog,

P. R.-E.2 ii. 277-286.
2 Cap. 4 8 : Otiositas inimica est animse, et ideo certis temporibus occupari
debent in labore manuum, certis iterum horis in lectione divina.
3 Ebert, l.c. i. 487 ff., and P. R .-E .2 iii. 158 f.
was collected and transmitted to following times. It is
well known what importance the Benedictines acquired
through such work in a later time. The work of Cassiodore,
probably written in 554, and entitled Institutiones divinarum
et saecularium literarum (or more correctly lectionum), in two
Books, is a characteristic expression of his thoughts. For
the First Book introduces the reader into the science of God,
and therefore aims at expounding theology, while the Second
Book introduces him into secular science, and is a com
pendium of it. In his earlier writing, De anima, Cassiodore
treats in chapter v. of the moral virtues or the four cardinal
virtues, which he completed by the three virtues: contem
plation, judgment (judicialis), and memory. Chapter vi. then
expounds the five natural virtues or endowments of nature:
Virtus sensibilis, imperativa, principalis, vitalis, delectatio.
Further he contrasts the wicked and the pious with one
another: the soul of bad men is ugly, their countenance is
clouded and sad in the midst of joy, etc. The pious are the
ascetics who combat the flesh, esteem themselves little,
always accuse themselves, and displease themselves when
they please all others. Their countenance is cheerful and
calm, emaciated, adorned with paleness, joyous amid constant
weeping, and venerable with a long beard; their look is
virtuous, their voice regulated and soft; and their pace neither
too slow nor too quick. It is an interesting portrait of his
ideal which Cassiodore here sketches, and not merely of his
own ideal, but of the ideal of that time generally. Some of
its features remind us of Aristotle’s description of the mag
nanimous man (μεγοΧάψυχος) and of other ancient descriptions.
W e see that the Christian ideal of that time is the ancient
ideal modified. But in this perversion of Christian truth
the opposition of the Christian principle to the ancient
way of thinking is not denied. Pride is represented as the
origin of crimes; and humility is the source of virtues, and
leads to God.
9. Martin o f Bracara1 (t 580), a native of Pannonia, did
not less promote the naturalization of monasticism in Spain,
his new home. For his monks of the monastery of Dumeo
1 Cf. Caspari, M. v. Bracara’s Schrift De correctione rusticorum, etc., Chris
tiania, 1883. *
lie supervised the translation of the Verba seniorum or Inter
rogationes et responsiones JEgyptiorum seniorum (a small
unarranged collection in 109 numbers), and also of the
JEgyptiorum patrum sententiae (consisting of fifty-four chap
ters, and somewhat comprehensive) belonging to the sphere
of the ascetic life. The best known of his moral writings is
the Formulae vitae honestae (in Isidore’s Be Viris illustribus,
c. 22, called : De differentiis quattuor virtutum). In the
Middle Ages this treatise was very generally regarded as
a work of Seneca; and as such it was much read, copied,
and quoted, because it was written for laymen and belongs
to the common philosophical ethics, not like those other
writings of the higher ascetic Christian morality which were
designed for the clergy and monks. For, the development
had passed into these two stages of natural and supernatural
morality. The former was at bottom nothing but the
Platonico-Stoic theory of morality taken from antiquity ; and
thus the Formidce vitae honestae, c. 1—4, treat of the four
Platonico-Stoic cardinal virtues, while c. 5—8 treat of ob
serving the mean in them. To the same species of philo
sophical ethics belongs also his treatise Be ira, which is
hardly anything but an extract from Seneca’s work of the
same name. On the other hand, it is to Christian ethics
that the three small connected tractates richly provided with
Bible passages belong, entitled Pro repellenda jactantia; De
Justitia, and Exhortatio humilitatis. Questions of Church
law and of Church discipline are treated in the Capitula, a
small collection of Canones, while the treatise Be correctione
rusticorum, which has been called “ a peasant’s sermon,” is
directed against heathenism in his Christian hearers, holds
up before them their breach of the baptismal covenant, and
exhorts them to repentance and to good works. It is evi
dent that Christian ethics have lost their inner unity with
the forgotten ruling principle of faith. It breaks asunder
into a natural ethic for the common life, and into a super
natural or specially Christian ethic, which has its ideal in
asceticism and its place in the monastery of the monks.
I f monasticism is the denial of the world, then this denial
of the world ought to become the very means for ruling the
world. This application of the system was introduced by
Gregory the Great, and the later development of the Western
Church successfully carried it on.
§ 46. The Conclusion o f the Ethics o f the Western Church in

Gregory the Great.
Gregory the Great1 (t 604) embodied his dogmatic and

ethical thoughts as in a repertorium in his Expositio in beatum
lob s. Moralium, L. xxxv., which dates from the years 5 8 3 -
590 a . d . He connects his thoughts, by an allegorical inter
pretation, with passages in the Book of Job. By the most
arbitrary allegorizing of details, Job is represented as the
Christian “ athlete,” who goes through the trials of the earthly
life on the way to perfection. He has, besides, partly de
livered and partly dictated Homilice in evangelia and Homilice
in Ezechielem, which are of a practical religious character. His
Begulce (curce) pastoralis liber was specially destined for the
clergy. It treats of the requisites of the spiritual office and of
the life of the clergy, and for centuries it continued to be their
principal text-book. His letters likewise belong to our subject.—
Gregory moves essentially on the lines of Augustine’s thinking;
yet so that, as a practical man, and without very deep scien
tific culture, as well as without speculative capacity, he blunts
the points of the Augustinian thoughts, and bends them towards
the side of Semi-Pelagianism. In this he was genuinely
Romish, and exercised a determining influence upon the sub
sequent Romish development. In Gregory the Roman spirit
embodied itself generally more than in any of his predecessors.
It especially exhibited itself in the specifically Roman interest
of universal government being determined in him through the
Church, whereby the Roman character of the Western Chris
tianity not merely differentiated itself from that of the Greek
Church, but also from that of the African and Gallic Churches.
It wras not personal ambition that moved Gregory; he himself
felt the weight of his burden deeply. It was the interest of
the Church which ruled him, and its vocation as he under
stood it, and as it was still more definitely occasioned by the
melancholy position of the time and its political state. In this
sense he brought monasticism into the service of the Church.
1 Lau, Greg. d. Gr. nach s. Leben u. Lebre, Lpz. 1845. Zopffel,JP. R.*E.2Y . 364 if.
He was praetor of Rome, but tired of worldly business and
its turmoil, be surrendered bis whole property and became a
monk in the monastery which was built and equipped by
himself in Rome. He then devoted himself to the monastic
life with such zeal that his excessive fasting almost endangered
his life. This period of retirement he afterwards always
extolled as the fairest and happiest time of his life; and
although he appreciated the active life, yet he always assigned
the prize to the contemplative life, and sought to further it in
its monastic form. The lamentable state of the devastated
country, and the uncertainty of the public relations, might
well occasion him to seek rest and security in the shelter of
the monastery, and to turn his thoughts away from earth to
heaven, and from the deceitfulness of earthly goods to heavenly
things. Gregory was diligent in founding monasteries every
where, but at the same time he brought monasticism into the
service of the tasks of the Church. In his belief in miracles,
adoration of relics, use of amulets, and such like,1 he led the
whole stream of heathen superstition, as he had inherited it,
into the Roman Church, and this has continued to be at home
in it till to-day, especially in the Romanic countries. Gregory
was thus also in this respect the mediator between the ancient
Church and the subsequent time.
His Ethics follow the usual lines.2 Sin arises through
temptation of the enemy and our own consent, by suggestio
(of the devil), delectatio (of the flesh), and consensus (of the
spirit). The virtues stand in contrast to the principal sins.
From Superbia, as the root of all evil, proceed the seven prin
cipal vices: inanis gloria, invidia, ira, tristitia, avaritia, ventris
ingluvies, and luxuria, so that superbia at the beginning and
luxuria at the end co-operate. Each of these principal vices
leads a whole army against us. Five of these vices are of a
spiritual nature, and two are of a carnal nature.8 To these
seven sins Christ opposes His spirit of sevenfold grace. There
1 Lau, l.c. 305 : “ He was extraordinarily credulous even in silly nursery fables.
It is wonderful how he could have believed a great deal of what he narrates in
his Dialogues.” “ He frequently gave presents of keys which had been blessed
over the body of the Apostle Peter, in which portions of the chains of Peter were
found, and which, when worn as amulets around the neck, would preserve from
sickness and evils, and even deliver from sins” (lib. iii. epist. 33).
2 Lau, l.c. 527. 3 Mor. xxxi. c. 45 ; Lau, 383.
are likewise also seven virtues: first the four known car
dinal virtues, which together form the structure of the
Christian life, but they only become properly Christian
and saving through the accession of the three sisters: faith,
love, hope.1 Faith is the first-fruit of the Spirit in us and
the presupposition of all else, and with it hope is com
bined ; yet it must be moderated by fear, in order to avoid
security. Love again is the root of all that is good; it is
infused by God, and suppresses the vices arising in the heart;
it is never idle, but heals our hearts and drives away love for
the world, and its measure is the measure of our approach to
heaven.12 This is the old error which makes the relationship
to God to be conditioned and measured by our own principle
of conduct, although worked in us by God. Faith, indeed, is
the beginning, but it is only a faith that holds by the truth of
God and His commandments, or also by the incarnation of
God. To such a faith good works must evidently be added
in order to lend it meritorious worth, or even in some ways
to supply its place.3 Thereby is brought about the subjective
justness which in this form of doctrine occupies the place of
Biblical justification. Such a just or righteous man is described
by Gregory as follows.4 The righteous man dies to the world,
and recognises himself through himself as a sinner, but as
made right by grace. In the heart of the righteous man
Christ sits supreme; he regards himself as constantly present
to God, feels dissatisfied with life, seeks the edification of his
neighbour in words and works, despises the fame of the world
and the joys of this life, tests his life daily in the scale of
truth, is simple in all his doing, and brave in conflict; he
improves himself through blame, learns from the faults of
others to look upon his own, judges himself severely, and
hates all deception against God and men. He does not
1 On this connection of the several virtues, see Mor. i. 3 2 : Valde singula

quaelibet virtus destituitur, si non una alii virtus virtuti suffragetur.— Ergo
alternato ministerio virtus a virtute reficitur.
2 Mor. xxviii. c. 2 2 ; Lau, p. 530.
* Zechf i. Hom. 9 : Unum enim sine altero nil prodesse valet quia nec fides
sine operibus, nec opera adjuvant sine fide, nisi fortasse pro fide percipienda fiant,
sicut Cornelius ante pro bonis operibus meruit audiri quam fidelis existeret.
Qua ex re colligitur, quia bona opera pro fide percipienda faciebat.
4 Lau, p. 503 f. *
become angry at unjust treatment, returns evil with good,
begins with fear and ends in love, is afraid on contemplating
the divine judgment, and recognises himself to be lost if he
were judged without mercy by God. He also fears for what
is his good, and does the good only in order to please God ;
lie openly confesses his sins, but his virtues only when he
m ust; he fears no future evils, but is more afraid of happiness
than unhappiness; he praises God even in suffering, and
remains stedfast in all the positions of life. He cannot
certainly be without sin, but his fall is even useful to himself;
he is improved by punishment, and is never abandoned by
grace. In all this, although it contains much that is good
and beautiful, we miss one thing by which it is distinguished
from the exhortations and descriptions of the apostle at the
close of his Epistles: it is the want of any reference to man’s
calling in the world. There is not a word about this, and
therein consists its defect as a description of right Christianness.
Here, as likewise in Augustine, it is at bottom only the ideal
of the contemplative life, and not of the active life, that is
described. But if our righteousness is based upon our own
mode of conduct, it is natural that the old errors of the
expiatory effect of our own works, such as alms,1 should be
repeated, as well as that of the two stages of Christian
morality: the distinction of the ordinary and the extraordinary
morality, and the fulfilment of the commandments and of the
evangelical counsels. It will be understood of itself that
among the latter virginity and voluntary poverty 2 specially
appear. A t the same time, this view stands in connection
1 Mor. xxvi. 2 7 : Quidquid illicitum aliquando fecerunt, ab oculis judicis

eleemosynarum superductione co-operiunt.
* Mor, xxvi. 27. In distinction from the common Christians who have blotted
out their sins with the tears and their alms, and who, although through the
judgment, obtain part in the dominion of Christ, it is said of the others: Alii
autem non judicantur et regnant, qui etiam praecepta legis perfectione virtutum
transcendunt, quia nequaquam hoc solum, quod cunctis divina lex praecipit,
implere contenti sunt, sed praestantiori desiderio plus exhibere appetunt, quam
praeceptis generalibus audire potuerunt.— Speciali namque jussione paucis perfec
tioribus et non generaliter omnibus dicitur hoc quod adolescens dives audivit
Mt. xix. 31 vade et vende omnia, etc.— Mor. xv. 1 6 : Carnis enim virginitas
nequaquam jussa est, sed tantummodo laudata ; et tamen multi virtute virgini
tatis pollent, ut videlicet plus impendant obsequio,, quam acceperunt praecepto.
Lau, l.c. p. 504 f.
with the doctrine of penitence as it developed itself especially
since Cyprian, and as it thereafter dominated the Middle Ages.
God indeed forgives sin, but we must ourselves expiate its
punishment. He who has done what is not allowed, must a? a
satisfaction abstain from what is allowed; he who has com
mitted sin, must make it good again by good works.1 The
three well-known good works are : praying, fasting, and alms
giving ; and of these three almsgiving is the best and most
efficacious. “ Fasting is good, but almsgiving is better. I f
any one can do both, both are good; but if he cannot do both,
almsgiving is the better. If it is not possible to fast, alms
giving is enough; fasting with almsgiving is doubly good.” 1 2
Augustine had indeed repeatedly called to mind that it is not
the external work which alone accomplishes anything, but
that the chief thing is the giving of one’s own person. Gregory
renews this thought. He says that the matter of chief import
ance is the disposition and not the greatness of the external g ift;
and that almsgiving is not a charter for sinning, otherwise it
might happen that one might give himself to the devil while
giving his possessions to God.3 But these reminders and limita
tions were of very little avail in practical application, nor did
they alter the position itself. In this view, it is still always the
person’s own mode of conduct upon which liis salvation is based.
In this way, however, the redemption through Christ is
made ineffective, and the certainty of salvation is exchanged
for a constant uncertainty and fear as to whether enough has
now been performed. Of course, Christ was regarded by
Gregory as the atoner. But the place of the atonement
through the death of Christ, is at bottom occupied in his
teaching by the doctrine and the example of Christ, which
are effective only to quicken zeal. It is noteworthy what a
significant place this view wins in the thoughts of Gregory.4
His semi-Pelagianism lacked the full appreciation of sin. This
1 Moralia xiii. 18. Evang. ii. liom. 34 ; i. hom. 20. Uhlhorn, p. 278.
2 So Csesarius of Arelate on the pseudo-Augustinian Sermons, Serin. 142.
Uhlhorn, pp. 278, 410.
3 Cura pastor. 31.
4 Lau, pp. 432 ff., 458 : “ The whole significance of the redemption and atone
ment is concentrated in the sinless life of Christ, which gives us an example for
imitation.” E.g. Mor. ii. 24 : Venit inter homines mediator ad pnebendum
exemplum vitee hominibus, etc. ; xxi. 6 : Ad hoc dominus apparuit in carne, ut
turn in doctrine became normative for the following time and
down through the whole Middle Ages. The following, or even
the imitation, of the life of Christ now becomes the catchword
of the Middle Ages, and especially so in the case of mysticism.
W ith this the whole basis, not only of the doctrine of salva
tion, but of ethics has become displaced.
§ 47. The summing and transmitting o f results by Isidore o f

Seville and Boethius.
1. Isidore o f Seville (IsidorUs Hispalensis, t 636) rests

principally on Augustine and Gregory the Great. His erudi
tion was a means of transmitting to the following ages the
knowledge of the heathen and Christian antiquity which he
summarized in collections and extracts.1 In his work Libri
differentiarum ii., sive De proprietate verborum, he already
enters upon ethical questions in determining the different
meanings of words. Amor and dilectio may refer both to what
is bad and what is good ; caritas only refers to what is g ood;
wherefore God is also called caritas ipsa. He determines the
four cardinal virtues as follows.2 Prudence is the knowledge
of the true faith and the science of Holy Scripture in its
threefold sense. Justice is the love of God and of our
neighbour. Fortitude is strength of soul, contempt of honours
and riches, patience in suffering, equanimity in happiness, and
stedfastness in labour. Moderation is the observing of the
proper measure in words and actions; it accompanies shame
fulness, preserves humility, brings rest of soul, embraces
chastity, nourishes honour, limits desire by reason, suppresses
anger, and does not return wrong. It is evident that it is
only the ancient scheme of virtues that is here specially
preserved ; but, on the other hand, it is filled with a Christian
content, and has become a form for the usual Christian morality.
humanam vitam admonendo excitaret, exemplo preebendo accenderet, moriendo

redimeret; resurgendo reparavit. Mor. viii. 30, v. 34, xviii. 45 ; Horn. Εν. i. 10.
Examples of humility, patience, and gratitude towards God in every position in
life ; Mor. ix. 38, xvi. 33, etc. Christ might have redeemed us even without
dying: His death was only to show ns the greatness of the love of God,
Mor. xx. 36.
1 Staudlin, l.c. iii. 377 ff. Wagenmann in Herzog’s P. R .-E .2 vii. 364 if. ‘
2 According to Staudlin, p. 178.
He treats questions of ethics in a similar way in his work
entitled Synonymorum, L. ii., s. Soliloquia. It is a Dialogue
between a “ Homo deflens,” a man whom the sorrows of life
oppress, and the “ Eatio admonens,” Beason or the Logos who
points the complaining soul towards the way to blessedness,
which leads through expiation and forgiveness of sin and
through contemplation to perfection. In short, command
ments and moral maxims, the rules of a virtuous and religious
disposition in life, are what is here summarized. It became
a much used book of edification. Isidore’s principal work is
his Sententiarum, L. iii. (s. De summo bono1) : a compendium
of the Christian doctrine of faith and morals, mostly excerpted
from Augustine and Gregory the Great, and especially from the
latter, and chiefly from his Moralia on Job. The First Book is
dogmatic in its contents ; the contents of the Second and Third
Books are ethical. More particularly, the Second Book, in forty-
four chapters, contains mostly his general ethics, while the Third
Book, in sixty-two chapters, contains mostly his special ethics.
These Sentences remained a long time a favourite text
book, and they became the model of numerous productions in
mediaeval literature; and this holds more especially of the
ethics in this work. It begins with an account of the Christian
principal virtues : wisdom, faith, love, hope. Isidore reckoned
wisdom along with the other virtues, and prefixed it to them ;
and in this he followed Augustine, wTho frequently compre
hended the whole of virtue under it. In his arrangement of
the three theological virtues, Isidore deviates from the usual
order. Thereafter he expounds the doctrine of grace and
predestination— and indeed in the double form of electorum
ad requiem et reproborum ad mortem, in the same way as
was afterwards done by Gottschalk; and he does this because,
following Augustine, he sees in grace the principle of virtue,
(ii. 1—6). As from the virtues other virtues proceed, so from
the vices other vices proceed. He sets the virtues and vices
into contrast with each other; every vice must be combated
by the opposite virtue (ii. 33 f.). Advance must be made
from the easier virtues to the more difficult ones, from the
lower to the higher; and it is the victory over vice that first
secures virtue (ii. 36). This progress is accomplished by self-
1 From the opening words : Summum bonum Deps est, eta.
humiliation and repentance, etc. And although fear of God
gradually yields more to love to God ; yet repenting may not
cease throughout the whole of life, because the mercy of God
is hidden, and the Christian without such constant repenting
would easily fall into security and thus lapse into vice. This
whole way of thinking lacks certainty of divine grace and
the joyfulness of the love that rests upon i t ; it founds salva
tion upon the person’s own attitude of repentance, etc., although
the efficient grace of God lies at the basis of this attitude. In
this connection Isidore sets forth a series of Sentences about
the difference between sins and their distinction into lighter
and heavier, open and secret; about bad thoughts, individual
sins and vices, etc. The Third Book then treats “ of the
different conditions and states of the Christian life, of divine
visitations and judgments, of the temptations of the devil and
the means against them, of ascetics and monks, of teachers and
superintendents in the Church, of rulers and subjects, of princes,
judges, and advocates, of the oppressors of the poor, the lovers
of the world, the friends of mercy, and of the brevity and end
of human life.” 1 As means of virtue, the examples of the
saints are presented, in the mirror of which the vicious behold
and punish themselves, and which they ought to imitate.
Further, prayer is a means of virtue. It ought to be a
matter of the heart and not merely of the lips, and it should
accompany good deeds; for it is the humility of prayer that
first makes the act meritorious. With prayer is to be com
bined the reading of the Holy Scripture in which God speaks
with us, and which the books of the heathen and of worldly
learning do not come up to.— According to Isidore, the first
place among the several conditions of life and their duties, is
held by the monk. For it is wholesome to avoid worldly
intercourse, not merely in the spirit, but also externally in
order to live to the heavenly sense (iii. 17—22). Isidore
exhorts the ministers of the Church to be careful of purity of
morals and scientific culture, and to promote the wellbeing of
the people entrusted to them, even against the oppressions
of the powerful (iii. 35 f., 45). And in like manner, he also
exhorts the princes to observe the laws, to protect the Church,
and to support the priests in their efforts (iii. 49—51).
1 AVagenmann, l.c. 368.
The fundamental tendency of Isidore’s way of thinking is
the ascetic and contemplative. He regards the eating of
flesh and drinking of wine as not permissible; for it did not
take place in Paradise, and the later permission (to Noah)
has been recalled by Christ through His apostle (Eom. xiv. 21)
because it excites the sensual feeling. The eating of fish is
only now allowed after the example of the risen Christ.1 To
this example of the risen Christ held up for those who live in
the flesh, corresponds Isidore’s preference of the contemplative
life to the active life. For the active life has to do with the
practice of good works, whereas the contemplative sinks itself
wholly into the love of God. The former is upon the way to
the goal, the latter is already at the goal. It is only through
action that we attain to contemplation, but contemplation
becomes the grave of action. Undoubtedly the active life is
also necessary so long as we belong to this earthly existence;
but the saints flee always as soon as possible out of it into
the stillness of contemplation, in order thus to enjoy already
here the future blessedness which consists in contemplation.2
— This is the old tendency to pure spirituality in which the
dominant way of thinking found a point of agreement with
Neo-Platonism, and although based upon another foundation,
it yet involved a misconception of the earthly calling.
2. Boethius3 was descended from the noble Eoman family
of the Anicii. He was born c. 480 a .d ., was imprisoned by
the Ostrogothic king Theodoric on false suspicion, and executed
in 525. His erudition was many-sided; and while belonging
to an earlier time, he was also a summarizing and transmitting
medium in another way than Isidore. The theological line
from Augustine downwards and through Gregory the Great,
finds its point of mediation with the Middle Ages in Isidore;
and Boethius holds the same relation to the philosophical
line in the form of a philosophical eclecticism. For the
Aristotelian conceptions (especially of the Logic) which the
[Middle Ages adopted, the Platonic basis of the whole system,
as well as the Neo-Platonic theology and the Stoical thinking
1 De offic. eccles. ii. 44.

* Sentent. iii. 15 ; cf. De different, ii. 29.
* F. Nitzsch, Das System des B. u. die ihm zugeschriebenen theol. Schriften,
Berlin 1860. P. R .-E .2 ii. 521 ff.
with a certain religious colouring, were all combined in the
ethics and doctrine of Providence of Boethius, nor was a
certain involuntary Christian influence wholly wanting in
them. The ancient philosophical thoughts had at that time
passed over into one another,1 and the position of Boethius
was an eclectic one. In the Middle Ages he was regarded as
a Christian and as a martyr of the Catholic faith. But the
theological writings on the Trinitarian and Christological
question,1
2 which represents him as orthodox, are not to be
regarded as his,3 although some hold them to be genuine.4
His five books, Be consolatione philosophice, which he composed
in prison, consist of a dialogue between a languishing prisoner
and personified philosophy. This work became a favourite
with the educated class in the Middle Ages. In combina
tion with metaphysical questions about God’s existence and
eternity, providence and fate, the origin of the world and
human freedom, Boethius presents an ethic which has the
manner of the religiously philosophical ethics of antiquity,
and especially of the Stoic system, and which reminds us of
Seneca. Philosophy appears in the place of the Muses as a
comforter. Through her instruction she raises the prisoner
in his need of consolation above his earthly circumstances
with their darkness, and above the transitory pleasure of
earth, by bidding him seek in God the highest good and the
highest end, and consequently the highest happiness.5 This
is a good and happiness which the wicked cannot attain, and
which the good cannot lose even in suffering, but rather only
1 Cf. Nitzsch, Abh. p. 84. Others accentuate the Christian element more
strongly, e.g. Ebert, lx . 464 ff. Gass, i. 177 if. Ritter, Gesch. der christl. Philos,
ii. 580 ff., compares the attitude of Boethius towards Christianity with that of
Synesius, against which, as against any comparison with Dionysius Areop.,
Nitzscli protests.
2 De unitate trinitatis. Utrum patur et filius ac spiritus sanctus de divinitate
substantialiter praedicentur. Brevis fidei Christianae complexus. De persona et
duabus naturis contra Eutychen et Hestorium.
3 Nitzsch, l.c.
4 E.g. Bach, Dogmengesch. des M .-A . ii., Wien 1875, p. 6.
5 Z. B. iii. 10 : Confitendum est, summum Deum summi perfectique boni esse
plenissimum ; sed perfectum bonum veram esse beatitudinem constituimus ;
veram igitur beatitudinem in summo Deo sitam esse necesse est.— Et beatitudi
nem et Deum summum bonum esse collegimus, quare ipsam necesse est
summam esse beatitudinem quae sit summa divinitas.— Deum veramque beati
tudinem unum atque idem esse monstravimus.
thereby rightly attain. Thus should he learn by philosophy
to despise all the earthly goods of this world and to raise
himself above it, to direct his look always to God, to approach
Him in prayer, and to keep down the passions which threaten
to frustrate the purpose and the natural order of God.— It
cannot be said that what is here presented is Christianity.
Boethius according to his external confession was a Christian;
but his way of thinking was that of the ancient philosophy.1
That his thinking and especially his ethics could be held to
be Christian, only shows how much the knowledge of the
distinction between the ancient, especially the Stoical, and
the Christian ethic had come to be lost sight of. As we
have already seen, the ethic of the Stoics had, in fact, at an
earlier time already obtained entrance into many of the
monastic circles in an external Christian investment; and it
had found a home in the monastic morality. The more Boethius
came to be regarded in later times as a martyr of the Catholic
faith, this belief could not but procure more acceptance for
his writings. In Thomas Aquinas we find him regarded as
an authority along with Aristotle. Apart from the import
ance which he acquired in the Middle Ages in connection
with the question of the reality of Universals, he further
contributed to transmit the Platonico-Stoic habit of mind to the
ethical thinking of the Middle Ages, while along with this there
also moved in him the new ethical thoughts of Christianity.
§ 48. The moral state o f the Ancient Church?
The new spirit of Christianity made its moral power

effective in the internal and external life of many Christians,
without its being possible, however, to exhibit it correspond
ingly in detail; and it revealed itself in the public life
especially through a charity and beneficence such as was
unheard of in the pre-Christian world. On the other hand,
this richly practised charity had undoubtedly its dangers ;1
2
1 Nitzsch, Abh. p. 174.

2 J. Burckhardt, Die Zeit Konstantin’s d. Gr., Basel 1853. Uhlhom, Die
christl. Liebesthatigkeit in der alten Kirche, Stuttg. 1882 [Christian Charity in
the Ancient Church, T. & T. Clark].
and as the christianised masses pressed with the new turn
of events into the Church, they carried with them and con
tinued the ancient heathen immoralities, while in the higher
classes and among the ministers of the Church the worldly
nature was in many respects unbroken. Against this world
liness the spirit of asceticism reacted, and it received nourish
ment and strength from the melancholy state of the public
relationships. This asceticism appeared as the ideal of Chris
tian perfection, and in consequence it lost the conception and
understanding requisite for Christianity becoming exhibited
in the labour of the common earthly calling.
1. The cultivation o f charity, as the active exercise of the

common Christian spirit, appeared to the heathen a character
istic mark of Christianity.1 The words of Jesus: “ Give to
him that asketh of thee,” were usually interpreted in the
sense that one was to give to every one that asked without
much questioning about desert.2 The prevailing tendency of
the mind to the superterrestrial and future made earthly
possession appear more indifferent. But how sound the
thoughts still were about possession, poverty, and beneficence,
is shown by the beautiful treatise of Clement of Alexandria
on the words spoken by Jesus to the rich youth. That the
Christians applied themselves to labour in the midst of the
rest of the world, is emphatically accentuated by Tertullian.3
Nevertheless the Christians were distinguished by the
simplicity of their life and the limiting of themselves on
principle to what was necessary. Almsgiving appeared to
them always as the best application of property. The
Christian community, that special creation of Christianity,
formed the frame and the basis of tliis exercise of charity; its
character lay essentially in caring for the community. Gifts
were connected with public worship. They were an offering
which the members of the community presented; and the
bishop administered these gifts. Bor special cases special
collections were held. The Bishops of Numidia applied to
1 Cf. e.g. Lucian, Perigrinus, c. 13.
2 Pastor Hermae, Mand. ii. Justin, Apol. i. 18. Clem. Alex., Quis dives, c. 13.
3 Apolog. 42.
VOL. I. R
Cyprian for help for the Christians who had become prisoners
of war in their district. The collections which were ap
pointed by Cyprian amounted to £ 8 7 7 , Is. Cyprian in
sending the money added a list of the names of the givers,
“ in order that ye may remember in your prayers the brothers
and sisters who have gladly and quickly given their help in
this necessary work, and that ye may vouchsafe to them a
recompense for their good work in offerings and prayers.”
The giver was specially thought of at the celebration of the
Lord’s Supper. Cyprian himself had at his conversion sold
his lands and gardens in order to bestow the proceeds on the
Church and the poor; and similarly afterwards in times of
need he gave repeated directions for the disposal of his private
property. This frequently occurred at that time.1 Another
method was to practise fasting in order to spare something for
the poor.2 The Apostolical Constitutions3 regulate in detail
this whole method of support in the Church, in such a
manner that only the really needy were considered, while
recipients who were not needy were regarded as having
stolen their bread from the poor. In times of special mis
fortunes and visitations, Christian love manifested itself with
special prominence in contrast to the heathen hard-hearted-
ness. W e have examples of this at Carthage in the time of
the plague in the days of Cyprian, at Alexandria in the time
of Bishop Dionysius, and frequently elsewhere.
A ll this charity was unquestionably much abused by
unworthy recipients, and it certainly gained not a few for
the Christian cause from ignoble motives. Yet it was a
shining testimony to the new spirit of love which ruled in
the Christian community, and could not exist without makiug
an impression upon the heartless heathen world.
When the great revolution under Constantine had been
accomplished, and the Church had thereby come into the
possession of unusual riches, there was opened a rich field
of organized beneficence in the form of donations, and the
founding of almshouses, orphanages, hospitals, hostels, and
other institutions for common advantage. This beneficence
could not but make the greater impression, as the State
came into contact with individuals only through soldiers
1 Uhlhorn, p. 148. 3 App. Constit. v. 1. Uhlhorn, p. 149. 3 IV. 1 if.
and violent tax-gatherers.1 Further, the complaints about
the increasing burden of taxation were always growing; and
the harshness of exacting it went hand in hand with its
increase.1
23 The ideal of such institutions was the famous
Basilias of Basil the Great before the gates of Neo-Csesarea,
“ They were predominantly institutions for those who were
really helpless; and as such, they were a truly glorious
innovation on the ancient heathen world, although it had
also at length begun to be active in this direction through
the State.” 8 Nerva, Trajan, Antoninus, Marcus Aurelius,
and Alexander Severus devoted large sums for the education
of poor children; but it was “ not in a general philanthropic
sense, but only for the freeborn, and as it appears, only for
Italians; and it had been done with the object of increasing
the free population of the central districts which had become
very sparse.” 4 This beneficence is indeed not unfrequently
based upon a false notion of the nothingness of all earthly
goods, and a misconception of the duty of the earthly calling;
and there is at the same time combined with it the error that
there is a meritorious and specially sin-cancelling power in
such acts, especially from the time of Cyprian. Nevertheless
there is always expressed in this beneficence a high
heavenly sense, even when it is in error; and this is all
the more conspicuous in contrast to the heathen selfishness
and worldliness.5
2. The new sense of love also showed itself towards the
slaves. Christianity could not indeed abolish slavery all at
once. Nor did the teachers of the Church think of this,
however often they may speak of the original liberty and
equality of all men.6 To have done so would have been a
social revolution; for the· whole order of society in the
ancient world rested upon the institution of slavery. But
the slaves, as well as their masters, were taught to put little
value upon the difference between slaves and free men in
comparison with their equality and unity in Christ. The
masters in particular were taught to see Christian brethren
1 Jak. Burckhardt, Die Zeit Konstantin’s d. Gr. p. 414.

2 Uhlhorn, p. 227 ff. Salvian,. De gubernat, v. 4 ff.
3 Burckhardt, l.c. p. 429. * Burckhardt, l.c. p. 429.
5 Burckhardt, l.c. p. 428. 6 Uhlhorn, l.c. p. 363 f.
in the slaves, and, with all their preservation of the social
distinction, to take a corresponding attitude towards them.
The ill-treatment of slaves by their Christian masters was
visited with the penalties of the Church.1 And although
such decisions show that they were necessary, yet Chris
tianity in the course of time indicates a gradual coming in
of that whole order of society which was prepared on the
line of liberty until it was afterwards legally regulated.
The conversions of persons in good circumstances were not
unfrequently distinguished by numerous manumissions of
slaves. Towards the end of the fourth century in parti
cular, such manumissions occurred in extraordinary numbers
within the circle of Jerome’s experience.12 The convert made
a renunciation of his slaves, as others made renunciations of
their property, “ for the salvation of the soul,” as is often
said in epitaphs. Thus by testamentary disposition parti
cularly, the manumission of slaves often took place in great
numbers, and they were taken charge of by the Church. The
ecclesiastical Canons came to the aid of those efforts by
various decisions passed in the interest of the slaves.
3. As the Church regarded itself generally as the
protectress of the poor, the weak, the needy, and the
oppressed, it also took this attitude specially towards the
excessive burdens of taxation and usury? The bishops often
exercised their influence, and successfully, against the former,
which weighed with particular heaviness on the rural popula
tion. In like manner, the Church set itself against usury,
and combated it with all emphasis. The necessity of the
time, or perhaps inexperience, compelled many to accept
depreciated money, for which they had to pay the greedy
usurers exorbitant interest, and by this many were dragged
into extreme distress. Under these circumstances it appeared
to the teachers of the Church that all taking of interest was
unjust usury. The Christians were forbidden to take any
interest; and the attempt was made to prove this as a
1 Synod of Elvira, 305 a . d ., can. 5. Synod of Epaon, a . d . 517, can. 34,

and frequently.
2 Thus Melania when she left Rome to begin a monastic life liberated all her
slaves. According to Pelladius, there were 8000 of them.
8 Cf. Uhlhorn, l.c. p. 375 ff.
Biblical position from Luke vi. 34 f., and from passages in
the Old Testament (Ex. xxii. 2 5 ; Deut. xxiii. 19). As it
was legally allowed, the taking of interest was at least
forbidden to the clergy; 1 and the same was made a moral
duty incumbent on the laity. Fallen debtors were often
freed by the bishops from the hands of the usurers.
In like manner, the Church gave its care to orphans or
foundlings, of whom there was no lack from the long
prevailing evil habit of exposing children at pleasure, and
thus giving them up to bodily or spiritual destruction.
Against this evil habit of child-exposure, and also of child-
murder, the Church earnestly combated at the synods. It
also showed particular interest in those who were taken
prisoners and carried away by enemies; and it ransomed
such prisoners in great numbers, at the expenditure of large
sums taken from the property of the Church.1 2
4. Troubles o f the time.— The continually growing need of
the time, and the accumulation of extreme misery, accom
panied the gradual destruction of the ancient world. “ The
sword everywhere! Death everywhere! I am weary of
life ” — thus does Gregory the Great close one of his
sermons.3 This prevailing need and misery gave the more
occasion for such beneficence, and could not but make the
Church appear as the only helper in times of need. Exhor
tations to beneficence formed a standing theme of the great
Church orators of that age, such as Chrysostom, Basil, Gregory
of Hyssa, and Gregory of Hazianzum, Ambrose, and Augus
tine.4 But not only were its motives often erroneous, as we
have seen, but even its ways were not unfrequently impure,
as is shown by the legacy-hunting of the clergy, and the
unjust disinheriting of children.5 It was in this very matter
of testamentary dispositions, and keeping up the memory .
1 Syn. of Elvira, can. 2 0 ; Laodicea, can. 5 ; 3 Karth. can. 16 ; Hippo (393),

can. 22 n. a. ; Uhlhorn, p. 415, Anm. 62.
* Candidus, Bishop of Sergiopolis, once ransomed 12,000 prisoners for 14,400
solidi (£9136, 16s.). The Gallican Church, as the inscriptions show, was
particularly zealous in this work. Private persons also devoted their means to
it. Thus we read on the tombstone of Eugenia, a Christian: “ W ith her
treasures she freed prisoners from unjust chains.’' Uhlhorn, p. 385.
8 In Ezech. 18, last sermon. Uhlhorn, p. 237.
* Cf. Uhlhorn, p. 266 ff. 6*8Cf. Uhlhorn, p. 249 if.
of tlie dead, that heathen practices and m odes'of thinking
pressed in. Alms had always won more and more significance
for the cancelling of sin in the view of the Church. Again
and again the proposition was preached, that “ as water
extinguishes fire, so do alms extinguish sin.” And thus
almsgiving from being a manifestation of love to the poor
had become a substitute for love in the case of the givers
themselves, or those for whom their saving influence was
intended. Accordingly it came to be a practice supported
by the Church that sins were to be wiped away by large
almsgiving, and thus they were supposed to be also beneficial
for the souls of the departed.
In Tertullian’s time it was already a practice to present
oblations for the departed on the day of their death, in order
thereby to obtain the intercession of the community. From
this practice the idea was developed that the manifestation of
the piety of the survivors in prayer, offerings, and alms goes
to benefit the dead. This almsgiving on the funeral day, or
the memorial day of the dead, was connected with ancient
practices. A t no point have these practices maintained
themselves more strongly than on this side of the adoration
of the dead. As the ancient pagan practice recognised
“ memorials,” decorations of the grave, feasts, distributions of
gifts, and similar foundations, in memory (in memoriam) of
the dead on their birthday, it also became a Christian practice;
only that such things were held on the day of the death, and
not as in the former cases from vanity, or merely in order to
do honour to the departed, but for the purpose of beneficence.
But, in fact, these observances often enough degenerated into
heathenish feastings, which the Church sought to oppose by
endeavouring to transform them into masses for the souls of
the dead, combined with alms.1 It is well known what
influence was specially exercised in this matter by Gregory
the Great. This idea became a strong impulse to almsgiving.
The more alms, so much the more merit. Moreover, it could
be made applicable to others. The idea and the practice of
Christian beneficence thus became completely distorted. Still
beneficence was always richly exercised; and the Christian
tombstones fondly celebrate it, and thereby show the estima-
1 Uhlhom, l.c. p. 283 f.
tion in which it was held. Yet a series of noble Christian
men and women whom we know from history will continually
arouse our admiration by their magnificent sacrifices, although
we cannot but reject the ideal which they strove to realize as
an unevangelical one, and although we completely miss the
right attitude towards the earthly calling in their self-chosen
poverty and ascetic mode of life.
5. The Monastery in the West.— Asceticism lay unavoidably
in the character and tendency of the time.1 The strongest
oppositions of the old and new had come into hard collision
with each other, and had removed many out of their natural
relations, so that they sought their salvation in an extreme
resolution. The irruption of the migration of the peoples
and the threatening collapse of all relationships (orhis ruit)
could only increase the mood of renunciation. The monas-
ticism that had been transferred from the East to the West
thus found at this time a fruitful soil. The monastery offered
a protection from the temptation of the world and the indi
vidual’s own weakness, as well as a refuge from the confu
sions of the public conditions and the oppression of the
political life. It was also open for runaway slaves who
withdrew" themselves from their service under the pretext “ of
being pious.” 2
Under these circumstances it was significant that Augustine,
in his treatise Be opere monachorum, had pressed with all
emphasis for the monks engaging in labour, and he thus set
himself against the inclination to a one-sidedly contemplative
life, as well as against mere comfortableness. Thus the
Western monasticism became distinguished from that of the
East, and it became a power in the culture of the coming
centuries. In this connection the foundation of Benedict
obtained an unexampled significance and importance. “ The
Franks and the rest of the Germans learned agriculture,
trades, and arts from the monks.” 3 And although the monks
of the East were not lacking in labour, beneficence, and the
work of educating children, yet all this obtained firmer order,
greater extension, and higher significance in the West.
6. The position o f the Church during the going down o f the
ancient world.— “ The ancient world went down, and all its
1 Cf. Burckhardt, l.c. p. 483. 2 Uhlhom, p. 370. 3 Uhlhora, p. 351.
glory was borne to the grave in thousandfold sorrow, and in
a misery such as has been hardly known at any other time,
and perhaps has only once approximately returned during the
Thirty Years’ War in Germany. Like billow after billow,
the German peoples fling themselves over the empire; they
shatter to pieces the ancient forms and orders of the political
and popular life, and yet are themselves still incapable of
creating again new lasting forms and orders. They come in
the freshness of youth to be soon enough enervated by the
unwonted warmth of the climate as well as unnerved by the
enjoyments of a foreign civilisation, and to perish when
corrupted by the sins of the conquered, and drawn by them
into destruction. Salvian, in reproving the Eomans, describes
the Yandals as having obtained the victory from God on
account of their chastity; yet how soon do they become as
morally corrupt as the Eomans! How do the Visigoths
degenerate in Spain; how tragically do the Ostrogoths go
down in Italy ! There arises at first a chaos that is without
parallel. The new Christian Germanic world is bom with a
thousand pangs, but centuries pass before fixed, enduring
political and national forms emerge out of the floods of the
popular migrations. But in the midst of this chaos stands
the Church as the only power that survives the general
destruction; and it administers its office as the refuge of all
the oppressed and needy. In those times of collapse, when
every other hold gave way, she alone still offered a helping
hand to the poor, hunted, and anxious stricken people.
Although a storm of invaders had rushed over the land, and
although villages and cities lay in ashes, she was still there, and
at once began her labour again. Churches, chapels, hospitals,
and monasteries, and houses of mercy, were the first which
rose again. There began once more the dispensing of alms;
the poor day by day found the stores of the Church opened
of themselves, and they received food and drink, care and
shelter, as far as the Church could give them. Along with ·
this material help they also received spiritual gifts. The
dispensing of alms was willingly connected with the worship
of God. The poor man who came to get bread to still his
hunger, or for a garment to cover his nakedness, or even for
advice and medicine for his sickness, heard at the same time
God’s word as well as the Church knew to preach it, and he
drew consolation from this source of all consolation, and
received power whereby he was able to endure further and to
hope. If the people did not entirely despair, they owed it to
the never-resting charity of the Church.— The Church could
not save the ancient world, but it sat with help and consola
tion by its deathbed, and glorified its dying hour with the
evening glow of a love such as the ancient world, in its time
of bloom and with all its glory, had never known.” 1
7. The Christian Society o f Rome.— The Church could not
save the ancient world, not merely because the ancient world
was incurably sick, but also because the medicine of the
Church itself was not the right one, and its moral power in
wide circles was gone. The whole charity of the Church,
admirable as it was, was nevertheless corrupted by false
motives, as we have seen. Moreover, heathenism was for the
most part not yet internally overcome; it continued to last
largely in its superstitions, and it was increased by the
Christian superstition of such distinguished representatives
as Gregory the Great. Above all, however, Christian society
since the second half of the fourth century, had always
become more degenerate.2 It was possible to be very correct
dogmatically, and yet to keep morally by the old heathen
modes of life. This is shown particularly in the case of the
Christian society of Rome. In the letters of Jerome, we have
very vivid descriptions which give a most terrible picture
of that society. On the occasion of the dispute between
Damasus and Ursinus for the Roman bishopric ( a .d . 366), one
day there lay 137 dead bodies in the Sicinian Basilica. The
observations of Jerome in his letter to Eustochium (xxii. c.
13) show how prevalent the heathen custom of killing
unborn children still was. Two of the common people
married, and the man had already buried twenty wives, while
the woman had buried twenty-two husbands. People were
on edge to see which of the two would die first. It was the
woman, and the man led her body through the whole of Rome
like a conqueror.3 Jerome again describes to us, especially
in the said letter to Eustochium, how matters stood among
1 Uhlhom, I c . p. 387 f. 2 Burckhardt, l.c. p. 480 f.
3 Ep. cxxiii. ad Ageruchiam.
the genteel classes and among the clergy. Among those who
had become widows the old coquetry remained. “ Carried
in their fashionable chairs, they are preceded by a whole
train of eunuchs; their cheeks are painted; and their well-fed
skin is distended.” “ Their house is full of flatterers and full
of gormandizings. Even clergy kiss the heads of the matrons,
and receive the reward for their attendance with hand out
stretched as if they were giving the blessing, if one did not
know better. In consequence these women, when they see
priests seek their protection, become very arrogant; and as
they have formerly experienced the tyranny of their husbands
they prefer the free life of the widow class, are called con
tinentes and nuns, and dream after a suspicious meal about
their apostles ” (c. 16). “ They cover the leaves of parchment
with purple colour, have the letters written in gold and the
manuscripts set with precious stones, but Christ dies naked
before their doors. I f they reach a hand to a needy one, they
trumpet it about; when they are going to give an invitation
to a love-feast, a herald is hired ” (c. 32). In another letter,1
Jerome describes the men “ with girdled loins, dark tunic, and
long beard,” te who live under the same roof with women, hold
feastings with them, and are only not married with them in
name.” Again, in another letter to Nepotian (lvi. c. 5, 6), he
describes the dandified young clergy with their curled hair,
and how they often give little presents to women, such as fine
handkerchiefs, ribbons, and kerchiefs, recherche dishes, and
billets-doux, while others again, hunting after legacies, perform
to childless old men and old women ignominious services, which
Jerome specially names. Again he elsewhere dwells upon the
hypocrisy and wantonness of the consecrated virgins and others.2
8. It may be gathered from various writings of those
centuries that things were not better in the Provinces. The
disorders of the time had often suggested the question regard
ing divine Providence. The heathen blamed Christianity as
1 To the monk Rusticus, cxxv. c. 6.
2 Matters do not appear to have been much otherwise in Constantinople, as
we learn from Chrysostom, nor in Carthage, as is shown by Augustine and
Salvian. On the moral condition of that time, and especially on its excessive
luxury, much information has been gathered by P. E. Muller in his Comment,
hist, de genio, moribus et luxu aevi Theodosiani (i. 7-10, 97-100, 108-123 ;
ii. 2-18). Cf. Staudlin, iv. 251, 257.
the cause of these disorders, as it was only since it arose that
misfortune after misfortune had come over the Roman empire.
The Christians defended themselves against this accusation.
Augustine’s great work De Civitate Dei starts from this ques
tion. In the fifth century the Spaniard Orosius wrote by
Augustine’s advice in 417 a . d . his historical work Historiarum
L. vii. ad 'paganos, or as it was more characteristically called,
De cladibus et miseriis totius mundi, or again, De totius mundi
calamitatibus. The object of the work was to refute those
objections of the heathen by the historical proof that the
world had been of old a vale of sorrow in which error and
wickedness had always reigned, and that without Christianity
it would be much worse with the world.1
But the chief writer of the class is Salvianus, a presbyter
of Marseilles (t 470), who treats the theme in his work De
gubernatione Dei or De presenti judicio. In order to exhibit
the fall of the Empire as a divine punishment for the
degeneracy of the population, he gives in undoubtedly strong
colours a thrilling picture of the manners and vices of his
tim e; and in his account the Christians appear to be not a
whit better than the heathen.2 After the introductory
considerations of the first two Books, the Third Book gives a
criticism of the morality of the time. It especially describes
the Romanic Christians, giving a dreadful picture of them, and
declaring that all vices and crimes were at home among them,
and were not practised merely by the servi, but also by the
ingenui. “ The Church itself, which ought to reconcile God in
everything, what else does it but embitter God ? W ith the
exception of individuals who keep themselves from evil, what
is Christendom but a collection of the dregs of vices ? How *
few are found in the Church who are not drunkards, revellers,
adulterers, whoremongers, robbers, gormandizers, bandits, or
murderers! ” “ Into such a low state of morals almost the
whole of Christendom has fallen, so that to be less vicious is
regarded among the whole of the Christian people as a kind
of holiness ” (iii. 9). “ What, then, is the life of business
people but deception and perjury, that of judicial officers but
injustice, that of court sycophants but calumny, and that of
soldiers but robbery ? (iii. 10).” “ Let us see whether any one
! Herzog, P. R .-E .2 xi. 144 f. 2 Ebert, i. 427 ff. Hauck, P. R .-E .2 xiii. 317.
is free from the two principal vices, namely/ from murder
and lust. W ho has not reddened himself with human blood ?
who has not soiled himself with filthy lust ? ” The Fourth
Book continues this description by a comparison of the
morality of the Christians with that of the heathen barbarians;
the latter are less guilty because they have less knowledge.
The Fifth Book compares the Catholic Christians of his neigh
bourhood with the heretical (Arian) barbarians (Goths and
Vandals), and shows how much higher the latter stand
morally than the former. “ The barbarians love each other,
while the Romanic people mutually persecute each other; the
poor and insignificant find a refuge with the form er/ etc. In
short, the Roman world had survived itself and degenerated
into selfishness, and it needed a renovation through the
Germans. The Sixth Book describes the immoralities of the
theatres. “ A ll this is so vicious that one cannot bring it to
light and discuss it without violating the feeling of shame/
“ The impurities of the plays are equally infamous both to the
actors and spectators.” “ Thus at these representations of
whoredom, the whole people have lust excited in their minds ”
(vi. 3). “ W e have renounced the devil in Baptism, but these
plays are works of the devil” (vi. 6). Nevertheless we
prefer them to the churches; we despise the altars and honour
the theatres (vi. 7). “ Thus are viciousness and impurity, as
it were, affiliated with the Romans; they are their soul and
nature; for the vices are dominant wherever there are
Romans ” (vi. 8). In the midst of the turmoil of war, people
give themselves up to these worthless plays. While the walls
of Cirta and Carthage were stormed by the weapons of the
barbarian peoples,<f the Carthaginians were revelling in mad
pleasure in the racecourses/ “ Outside men were slain,
within lust was indulged in.” And what happened there was
repeated in his neighbourhood at Treves. There was revelling
and wantonness on the part of old and young while destruc
tion was threatening the city. That city, the richest in Gaul,
was four times conquered, but the continued misfortunes only
caused crimes to increase. And similar things took place
in the other cities of Gaul.1 The Seventh Book repeats these
1 V I. 12-14. On the passion for shows and plays, against which Chrysostom
also preached strongly (e.g. Horn, contra lud. et theatij, vii. 273 sqq.), see
accusations. The whole Eoman world is wretched and
luxurious at the same time. “ The barbarians themselves are
shocked at our impurity.” “ W e love unchastity, the Goths
condemn it ; with them fornication is a crime and draws
punishment after it, with us it is a matter of respectability.”
“ And then we wonder when the possessions either of the
Aquitanians or of ourselves are given by God to the barbarians,
since the lands which the Eomans stain through vice must be
purified by the barbarians through chastity ” (vii. 6). “ It is
the divine judgment which the barbarians execute” (vii. 12).
And so it is too with the Vandals in Africa. For, “ some few ·
servants of God excepted— what was the whole region of
Africa but a single house of v ic e ? ” (vii. 14). “ As all
peoples have their own peculiar vices, so they have also
certain virtues; but among the Africans I know only what is
bad” (vii. 15). In this, Carthage takes the first place.
“ Who is still chaste among the numberless multitudes of
that city ? Who is not a whoremonger or an adulterer, and
indeed without end, without lim it?” (vii. 17). “ The most
shameful things were there done openly.” “ The whole city
looked on, and let it happen; the judges saw and were silent;
the people looked on and clapped their applause” (vii. 18).
“ And do we wonder that we are as wretched as we are
impure ? do we wonder that we are excelled in power by the
enemy who excel us in honesty ? do we wonder that they
possess our goods who abhor our vices ? They do not conquer
by the natural strength of the body, nor do we succumb
through natural weakness. No one can persuade himself of
anything else, no one can be of another view than that our
vicious morals alone have conquered us ? ” (vii. 23).
Whatever exaggeration may be in these descriptions, the
one thing is certain that the Eoman world was ripe for
judgment. But Christianity was not able to save it ; the
salt itself had lost too much of its virtue.
Salvian sees one principal reason of this moral decay in
Staudlin, iv. 244 if. It was only the want of the necessary means, occasioned
by the irruption of the northern peoples, that put an end to them; cf. Augustine,
De consensu Evangeliorum, i. 3 3 : Unde enim cadunt, nisi inopia rerum, etc.
It was only in Ravenna and Rome, according to Salvian, that they were still
maintained. There only survived bands of Mimes and players who danced and
played at marriages and feasts. And it was the same in the East.
the false love to earthly possession. Accordingly he had
already published before his historical work a treatise specially
directed against avarice, A d ecclesiam cath6licami or Adversus
avaritiam, in four Books. For, this is the most pernicious
pestilence with which the devil has infected the Church; and
it had seized not only the laity, but also clergy and monks.
The clergy should renounce their property, and at least they
ought, as well as the virgins and others, to leave it by testa
ment to the Church. “ They disinherit themselves (for
eternity) in order not to disinherit others ” (Adv. avar. ii. 48).
If they have during their life been lacking in good works,
they ought thus to make up for what they had neglected, at
least at the close. I f they have done good works, they ought
to reflect that one can never do enough of them ; if they
must now appear before the throne of the Judge of the world,
they must seek so much the more to reconcile Him to them
selves (iv. 133). As for the wicked, again, it is always better
at least for them to try this than to do nothing (iii. 181).
The Church had then the whole of the support of the poor
in its hands. The motive of Salvian in laying down his
requirement, however, was that of the meritoriousness of
divesting oneself of possession. “ Even if there is nothing
bad in the past which we might have to expiate, yet there
are eternal goods which we have to prepare for our
selves ; if we have no punishment to fear, yet there is the
Kingdom of Heaven to strive after. I f the saints have
nothing from which they have to ransom themselves, there
is still something which they have to b u y ” (ii. 65). His
ideal which he opposes to the corruption of the time as
a remedy, was the ascetic ideal. The religiosi are in the
state of perfection, because they are following Christ. But
it was evident that this was not saving society, but giving
it up.
§ 49. The Church Discipline.
The dominant ethical way of thinking in the Church fixed
itself, in behoof of ecclesiastical discipline and for the forming
and securing of ecclesiastical practice, in the determinations
of the Law of the Church, which determinations combined
the elements of morality, discipline, and worship.
1. The Synodal Canons.— Occasioned by the relationships
of the time, many Synods drew up disciplinary canons which
related partly to the discipline of penitence, partly to the
relation to heathen things, partly to conjugal and sexual
relationships, or to military service, commercial affairs, usury,
etc. Thus the Synod of Carthage, held under Cyprian in
251 a . d ., sought in these matters to keep the mean between
the laxer tendency of Felicissimus and the rigorous position
of the Novatians.1 The canons of Petrus Alexandrinus, with
reference to penance, were occasioned by those who had lapsed
during the Diocletian persecution. Further, we may specially
note the Synod of Elvira (Concil. Illiberitanum) in Spain, a . d .
306, with 81 canons; that of Arles, A.D. 314, with 22 canons ;
that of Ancyra in Galatia, a .d . 314, with 25 canons; that of
Neo-Csesarea, a .d . 3 1 4 -3 2 5 , with 25 canons; that of FTicea,
a . d . 325, with 20 canons; Laodicea, c. 364, with 60 canons;
Gangra in Paphlagonia, c. 360, with 20 canons; Sardica in

3 4 4 ; Carthage in 397 and 419 (concluding the canons for
Africa); Mileve in 4 1 6 ; Angers in 5 4 3 ; Tours in 4 6 1 ;
Pome in 465 ; and the many Synods of Toledo.2 Most of
these Synods laid down strict legal regulations; and some of
them, as those of Ancyra and Gangra, were partly in opposi
tion to the false hyperasceticism.
2. The collection of the so-called Apostolical Constitu
tions 3 ( Constitutiones apostolicce, Διαταηαί, Διατάξεις των
αποστόλων, in eight Books) contains partly moral regulations,
and partly rules of the Church order, belonging to the first
four centuries. The first six Books, which date from the
second half of the third century, and originated in Syria or
Asia Minor, form an independent whole, which was long
unknown in the West and never recognised, and which in
1 Cf. the Libellus mentioned by Cyprian (Eph. 2 lib. de lapsis, c. 31, 52), ubi
singula capita conscripta sunt, according to which examinentur causae et volun
tates et necessitates singulorum.
2 Cf. Mansi, Collectio Cone. i. ii. iii. Hefele, Conziliengesch. Bd. 1-3.
3 Bickell, Gesch. des Kirchenrechts, Giessen 1843, i. 1. Jacobson, P. R.-E.
1 Aufl. i. 477 ff. (1854); otherwise Mejer, P. R .-E .8 i. 562 ff., where the other
literature is given. The question has again been lately discussed anew in con
nection with the recently discovered “ Teaching of the Apostles,” inasmuch as
this work forms the basis of the first half of Book vii. of the Apostolical Con
stitutions. Cf. Ad. Harnack, Texte u. Untcrss. zur Geschiclite der altehristl.
Liter, ii. 2. 2, Lpz. 1884, p. 170 fi*.
the East was rejected at the Trullanian Synod of 692 λ / d. in
its can. 2, but was nevertheless used. These Books contain
a mixture of dogmatic, liturgical, moral, and legal regulations,
which enable us to know the state of the Church of the third
century on various sides. According to the generally accepted
view, the Seventh Book arose in Syria in the fourth century
c. 3 4 0 -3 8 0 . In the Eighth Book there is a summary from
the third century, of rules regarding worship and the old Law
of the Church.
Survey o f the contents o f the Apost. Constitutions.— I. 1—10,
7Tepl Χαικων, contains exhortations against avarice, hatred, the
desire of revenge, luxury, idleness, and heathen books, and
treats of the relation to women according to Proverbs.— II.
I - 63 treats of the qualities and duties of bishops, presbyters,
and deacons. — III. 1 -1 5 treats of widows, their moral
qualities, rights, duties, and limits (16 ff. being liturgical),—
IV. 1 ff. treats of widows and orphans, and of care for them.
I I - 13 deals with the relationship of parents and children,
masters and servants, ruler and subjects, and of virginity.—
Y. 1 ff. treats of stedfastness in confession and martyrdom.
13 ff. refers to the ecclesiastical festivals and feasts.— VI. 1 ff.
treats of schismatics, etc.; 17 of the once marrying of the
clergy; 18 of separation from heretics; 19 ff. of the law of
Christ and the law of the Old Testament, and specially of
purity and impurity. There prevails throughout the view of
Christianity as the new law of free willingness and inward
ness in distinction from the Old Testament law of compulsion
and externality. Christ has gone back to the original law
(Decalogue), and has renewed it by laying aside the later
ceremonial law which was added in consequence of the
falling away of Israel. This δευτερώσω embraces rh iv
rrj ερήμω Tot? μοσγοττοιησασι (referring to the golden
calves at Sinai) hoOevra επείσακτα. — a δε άμαρτήσασιν
αύτοΐς inτβτεθη δεσμά, σύ σβαυτω μη έτησττάστ). This second
law is abrogated for us. The bishop must therefore distin
guish and keep the two well asunder.1 The law of the
1 To the parts that have been abrogated belong the rules as to legal impurity,
after touching a dead body, after sexual intercourse, pollutions, etc., vi. 27 ; so
that communion is allowed to Christians in such cases. Further, marriage is
recognised, but celibacy is regarded as higher (vi. 10, 11, 14, iii. 14). Second
decalogue, which is identical with the law* of nature, is con
firmed but also sharpened by Christ, in so far as He not only
forbids murder, but also anger; not merely adultery, but also
desire; not merely false swearing, but swearing at all, etc.;
and therefore the law is extended to the disposition, and thus
internalized (vi. 23). — VII. and V III. were added later.
VII. 1 if., 7repl πολιτείας, treats of discipline, an elaboration
of the old work, Duae vise vel judicium Petri, which forms
in different recensions the beginning of the διδαχή των
αποστολών (cf. § 28. 3, supra), and the close of the Epistle
of Barnabas on the way of life, i.e. the fulfilment of the law
of Christ and the way of destruction, or the transgression of
the la w ; c. 8 ff. treats of individual virtues, long-suffering,
patience, etc., and duties to the poor, to masters and servants,
to parents, and relatives, and rulers, and such lik e ; 24 ff. treats
of prayer and thanksgiving, etc., and 39 ff.of the order of baptism.
V III. 1 -3 2 treats of ritual matter; 33 ff. of the Sabbath and
Sunday, the six hours of prayer, and forms of prayer.
The Christian life appears here as a life regulated by the
idea of fellowship, borne up by prayer, and undoubtedly
enclosed by determinate external orders, and thus legally
determined. But at bottom it is a life determined by the
law of love, although certainly not without a confusing of
what is properly moral with what is conformable to the
order of the Church.
3. The Apostolical Canons} which were recognised as valid
and apostolic by the Trullanian Synod of 692 A.D., sprang
from the fourth century and from Syria, although really in part
of earlier origin. They were attributed to the apostles, and,
according to Dionysius, were collected by Clement of Borne.
The Apostolical Canons are 50 in number, and to them
other 35 are added, containing determinations taken from
the Scriptures of the Old Testament and tradition, and from
other synodal canons. The Western collection of Dionysius
marriage is allowed: third marriage is regarded as incontinence; and fourth
marriage is designated as manifest unchastity. Second marriage is expressly
conceded to younger widows, iii. 2 : διγαμία μιτά ϊπαγγίλίαν, παράνομον, ου iia
<rn» αυνάφααν άλλα, "διά ro i^ttiios· τριγαμία xx.patrias αημίίο»' το ii υπέρ τη» τριγαμία»
προφα»η$ πορνεία-— Ν turipais μιτά τη» του πρώτου τελε υτη» αυγχε^ωρήσβω χαι ο iw T t p o ;.
1 Cf. Drey, Neue Unterss., Tiib. 1832. Hefele, Konciliengesch. i., 2 Aufl.
1873, Anhang, p. 793 ff.
VOL. I. S
Exiguus, c. 500 A .D ., contained only 50 canons, and they
were regarded in Eome as spurious. These so-called
Apostolical Canons mostly consist of regulations regarding
the discipline of the clergy. In them ecclesiastical rules
about fasting and such like, are repeatedly put on an equality
with divine commandments as regards the consequences of
their transgression in deposition or exclusion. This was a
consequence of the ecclesiastico - legal tendency which the
churchly way of thinking took, and it furnishes at the same
time a proof of the disorders that had early rushed in.
There were also various related collections, such as the
Apostolic Church Order, A l Scaray al ai δια Κλήμεντος teal
κανόνα εκκλησιαστικοί τω ν αηίων αποστόλων, dating from
the beginning of the third century, and agreeing in many
points with the Apostolical Constitutions VII. and V III.1
4. Further, there are the regulations of certain Bishops
which became canonical. Thus the Canons o f Gregory
Thaumaturgus,1 23for the order of the mode of penitence, were
declared to be canonical by the Trullanian Synod at Con
stantinople in 680 a .d . They embodied the distinction of
the three degrees of penitence: the weepers before the d oor; .
the hearers behind the catechumens, who took no part in the
prayer; and those standing with the fideles taking part in
the prayer, but not in the Lord’s Supper. The Three
Canonical Letters o f Basil the Great (t 379) on ecclesiastical
discipline also obtained canonical authority.
5. The Penitential Boohs3 arose out of these works, along
with the synodal canons mentioned above. Thus Joannes
Scholasticus, Patriarch of Constantinople (t 578), when
presbyter at Antioch produced the first large Collectio
canonum {σύνταγμα) in fifty titles, and into this collection
he received eighty-five so-called apostolical canons. The
Trullanian Synod of 692 confirmed this collection (c. 2).
Further, there are two collections ascribed to Joannes Jejunator,
Patriarch of Constantinople (t 595), entitled: ακολουθία
καί τάξις τω ν iξoμoλoy ον μενών (an order of penitence or
confession); and λόγο? 7rpo? τον μέλλοντα iâyopevaai τον
1 Reliquiae juris ecclesiastici antiquissimae, Ed. de Lagarde, Lips. 1856.

2 Ryssel, Greg. Thaum., Lpz. 1880, p. 29 f.
3 Mejer in Herzog’s P. R.*E.2 ii. 20 if.
αυτού πνευματικόν viov (directions for father - confessors).
The ecclesiastical ordinances exercised a wide-reaching influence
on the political legislation, especially from the time of Theo
dosius the Great, and they were supported by it, as they
likewise supported it on another side.
6. Some of the ordinances o f the Church Law} — The first
task of the legislation of the Church in the time of the
persecutions appeared to be the duty of dealing with the
danger of lapsing into heathenism, and to provide that those
who had fallen away should be taken under penance. Thus
the Synod of Arreyra decreed that the presbyters who had
fallen away, but had afterwards returned and had authenti
cated their fidelity, might retain their seat in the Church,
but should no longer perform priestly acts. A similar rule
was also to be applied to the deacons. A Christian who had
taken part in a sacrificial feast had to pass for several years
through the stages of the penitents; those who led away others
to do this were to continue ten years* in penitence. Basil,
however, wished the sacrament not to be again administered
to those who had denied Christ till immediately before death.
In connection with all this was the struggle which the
Church had to carry on with the usages and reminiscences
of heathenism generally. A great many heathen practices
and customs had been preserved, as was to be expected, even
after Christianity had obtained the supremacy. T h e. bishops
were directed to take steps against these in the sharpest way,
and to work hand in hand with the civil judges. Thus a
Synod at Toledo decreed perpetual excommunication for
soothsaying and casting lots; while others, as that of
Narbonne (can. 14), even decreed bodily punishment and
sale. The practice had been kept up of paying honour to old
heathen sanctuaries, such as stones, springs, and trees, or still
continuing to celebrate heathen festival days. Against these
practices various synods proceed with severity.2 A synod at
ISTarbonne decrees the penalty of excommunication for one
year (can. 15) for celebrating Thursday (Jovis dies). The
Trullanian Council (Quinisextum, 6 9 2 a .d .) by its can. 7 9
forbids the making gifts of cakes on Christmas professedly
in honour of the delivery of Mary (undoubtedly a heathen
1 Cf. Staudlin, iii. p. 364 ff. 2 Arelat. ii. can. 23. Tolet. xii. can. 11.
custom at births), as that immaculate birth was to be other
wise judged of. In like manner, there are repeated prohibi
tions of the heathen festival fires, of the Brumalia in honour
of Bacchus, and of soothsayings, magical spells and usages;
and they were punished with some six years' penance.1 In
order to secure the Christians against such non-Christian
influences, all questionable intercourse with heathens at any
common festival1 2 was forbidden the Christians; and marriages
with them at least subjected the party to temporary exclusion
from communion.3 The same rule applied to marriages with
Jews, especially in Spain;4 and the civil laws of the Roman
empire or of the Visigoths proceeded against marriage with
Jews with the severest penalties. Not less severe were the
ordinances against heretics, both in the code of Theodosius
and in the Visigothic law-book.
With great emphasis the Church turned itself against the
shows and plays, partly because of their connection with
idolatry, and partly on account of their immoral representa
tions. But against the deeply-rooted universal inclination
to these plays, as we see it for example in the descriptions of
Salvian, the Church after it had received the masses into
itself was able to proceed only to a certain limit. Several
Synods of A rles5 excluded the Christians from the communion
of the Church so long as they were drivers or players in the
circuses. The Third Synod of Carthage (can. 1135) forbids
the visiting of plays, because blasphemies occur in them, but
players are allowed to be received again if they have given
up their calling. I f an actor in a deadly illness had received
baptism and the Lord’s Supper, he was not allowed to return
to the theatre; and actresses converted to Christianity were to
be free from the theatre.6
Constantine had already, in 321 A.D., ordained the cele
bration of Sunday. The Synod of Laodicea (can. 29) had
decreed, under penalty of excommunication, that the Christians
should not work on the Sabbath, and that on the Sunday
they should abstain from work as much as possible.
1 Basil. Epp. can. 72, 83. Narbonne, c. 14. Quinisext. c. 61.

2 Laodic. c. 37, 39. 3 Arelat. i. c. 11.
4 Aurelian. (Orleans) ii. c. 19, iii. c. 13. Tolet. iv. c. 57, 58, u. a.
5 Arelat. i. can. 4, i i c. 20. 6 According to the Cod. Theodos.
Similar decrees were also repeatedly given forth by other
synods, and bodily punishments were partly combined with
them.
Murder and homicide under every· form were subjected to
severe punishment. Even in the case of self-defence, and
when unintentional, homicide was punished with excom
munication, lasting .from five or seven to ten years. Of
homicide in war, Basil judges that those who commit it, since
they have not pure hands, at least do well to absent them
selves three years from communion.1 Killing the fruit of
the body in the womb, was punished according to the older
canons with exclusion from communion till death; and,
according to the later canons, with exclusion for ten or seven
years.2
Particularly incisive are the ordinances regarding the Clergy,
their conditions and duties. Grave sins committed since
baptism, falling away in persecution, former service in war
and at the court, irregular marriage, self-circumcision and self-
mutilation, excluded from the sacred office.3 I f a presbyter
confessed that he had committed carnal sin before his nomina
tion, he was not to be allowed to administer the sacred offices;
and the same held of any one who in ignorance had previously
entered upon an irregular marriage.4 Among the offences for
which deposition, or excommunication, or other punishments
were ordained, the following are mentioned: usury, the giving
away of sacred writings and vessels, betrayal of fellow-Christians
in times of persecution, the deserting of offices, indulgence in
lust, adultery, incest, bathing in the company of women, magic,
astrology, soothsaying, preparing of amulets, swearing, cursing,
perjury, abduction of women, gluttony, theft in churches,
forging of papers, false witnessing, turbulence, conspiracy,
murder.5 A ll this gives us glimpses into the moral state of
the time. Moreover, the clergy, except on journeys, were
never to enter into an inn, still less to keep one.6 They were
1 Epp. can. c. 43, 8, 56, 57, 13.
2 Ancyra, c. 21. Basil. Epp. can. 2, 33, 52.
3 Nicea, c. i. 10 ; Arelat. ii. c. 7 ; Carthago, i. c. 8 ; Basil, c. 27 ; Carthago, iv.
c. 67, 68, etc.
4 Neocsesar. c. 9, 10 ; Basil, c. 27.
5 Staudlin, l.c. p. 424, where the relevant Synodal Canons are quoted.
6 Laod. c. 2 4 ; Carth. iii. c. 6 ; Trull. (Quinisext.) c. 9.
not to assist at the marriage of a digamus, and they were to
withdraw from marriages generally before the dancers and
players appeared.1 They were not to look on at horse races,
comedies and such lik e ; nor were they to allow their children
to do so.2 They were not to tarry in companies where love-
songs were sung or unseemly dances were presented; still less
were they themselves to sing or to dance.8 They were not to
let their hair grow lon g; they were to be without ornament in
their clothes and shoes ; they were not to wear purple clothes,
nor to stroll about needlessly in the streets and public places.4
They were not to pursue any trade for the sake of gain, but
they might procure their maintenance and clothing by manual
labour and agriculture.5 They were not to be present at any
torture or any judgment which condemned a man to death.6
They were not to carry weapons, nor to hunt with dogs; and
in no case were they to shed blood. If they deserted their
spiritual office, they were to be excommunicated.7
But above all it was the question of the marriage of the
clergy with which many synods and canons were occupied.
Most of them had lived in earlier life in marriage, but many
of them in full continence ; and many of them were unmarried.
I f a presbyter took a wife, he was to be deposed according to
the ordinance of Neo-Caesarea (can. 1). The proposal made at
the Council of Nicea, that the clergy should entirely keep
themselves from their wives, was rejected in consequence of
the opposition of Paphnutius, a bishop and confessor from
Egypt, who maintained that it was enough if, according to the
old tradition, the priests were forbidden to enter into a new
marriage. The Synod of Gangra (can. 4, 9) expressly rejected
the assertion that married priests should not administer the
communion, as well as the continence that consisted of rejec
tion of the married state itself, which was thus regarded as a
falsely ascetic way of thinking. In Borne, however (as seen
by Bishop Siricius, t 398), the tendency towards the complete
1 Neocsesar. c. 7 ; Laodic. c. 54 ; Quinisext. c. 24.
8 Quinisext. c. 24, 5 0 ; Carth. iii. c. 11.
• 3 Ne auditus aut obtutus sacris mysteriis deputatus turpium spectaculorum
atque verborum contagio polluatur. Venetic. c. 1 1 ; Carth. iv. c. 62.
4 Carth. iv. c. 4, 46, 4 7 ; Narbon. c. 1 ; Quinisext. c. 27, u. a.
6 Arelat. ii. c. 1 4 ; Carth. iv. c. 51, 53. 6 Tolet. iv. c. 31, u. a.
7 Chalced. c. 7 ; Turon. c. 5, u. a..
celibacy of the clergy early showed itself. It was at least
held that as the Jewish priests must keep themselves from
women in the time of their service, so the clergy must observe
continence from the date of their ordination, as they had daily
to sacrifice to God. If they begot children, these were not to
inherit, but to become slaves of the Church; and such clergy
were themselves to be deposed, or at least were not to be
advanced, and were always to remain under supervision. This
was ordained by numerous synods. In any case, however,
second marriage and marriage with widows were interdicted
in the case of the clergy. The Greek Church (at the Trullanian
Synod) did not go so far as the Western Church. It was
satisfied with the so-called Apostolical Canons (17. 18). Any
one who had married twice after baptism or had a concubine,
and any one who had a widow, a divorced woman, or a
hetcera, or an actress as wife, could not' become a bishop,
presbyter, or deacon; nor could any one marry after receiv
ing the higher consecrations. But regular legal marriages
remained valid, according to the Apostolical Canon 5, after
ordination; yet the clergy ought to abstain at the time of
performing the holy offices, and the bishops ought not to live
in the same house along with their wives.1 Moreover, the
other social intercourse of the clergy with women was regu
lated and limited by the synods. No visit to women was to
take place without witnesses, nor was it to last very long, in
order to avoid evil-speaking or temptation.2
Very special are the determinations relating to the questions
of marriage and the whole sexual life. For in this connection
it was especially incumbent to oppose the power of heathen
practice and immorality. Thus the conduct of the priests
after pollutions was regulated according to their occasion. In
most cases Gregory the Great determined that they should not
exclude the individual from communion and the administration
of worship; but according to Gregory III., on the basis of older
determinations, Christians generally should in such a case do
penance for several days, and sing penitential psalms.3 The
1 Quinisext. c. 3, 6, 13, 48. 2 Carth. iii. c. 2 5 ; Tarracon. c. 1.

8 Si semen fuderit in ecclesia dormiens, cantet psalterium vel tres dies
pceniteat; si voluntarie semen fuderit in ecclesia mala cogitatione, si clericus
est, 14 dies, diaconus 22, presbyter 40, episcopus 50.
monthly purification of women should not exclude them from
attending church and from the Lord’s Supper, yet it was
declared to be laudable if they kept away from the communion
during this time. Unnatural vice, however, was visited with
the strongest penalties of the Church, with excommunication
for ten, fifteen, and twenty years, and even till death.
Marriages were forbidden with heathens, Jews, and heretics,
with a presbyteress or deaconess, with the betrothed of another,
with blood - relations, and with those who were related by
marriage. Marriages entered into without the knowledge or
against the will of the parents, were visited with excommuni
cation ; and even where the consent of the parents was after-·
wards given, a penance of some years followed upon them.
In like manner digamists had to do penance for a long time.
Third marriage, or oftener, was no longer to be regarded as
marriage, but as polygamy, and as a blot on the Church. To
marry during penance was punished with life-long excommuni
cation. With regard to forbidden degrees the Mosaic deters
minations were at first made the basis, e.y. by Basil; only the
rules of the Church went further, as in the often repeated
prohibition to marry the sister of a deceased wife, which is
also in Basil, and later also in the prohibition of marriage
between cousins. And in course of time they began also to
extend the prohibition of marriage to the so-called spiritual
affinity which was produced by sponsorship in the case of
baptism or confirmation.
During the quadragesimal fasts no marriages were to be
celebrated. During these fasts moderation was to be observed,
and the church utensils were not to be abused in connection
with them.1
In regard to Adultery the determinations of Basil are
specially of interest. In the case of the husband it was his
unfaithfulness only with a married woman and not with an
unmarried one, that amounted to adultery, and which brought
him under penance for it. On the other hand, the husband
could divorce his wife for any unfaithfulness. The arbitrary
divorce of a wife and marrying another woman, was declared
by Basil to be adultery. A separated wife was to remain
unmarried during the life of the husband, in order nob to
1 Laodic. c. 52, 53.
become an adulteress.1 The punishment laid down for adultery
was excommunication from the Church from seven to fifteen
years.2 These ecclesiastical ordinances likewise influenced
the civil legislation in the way of increasing its severity.
The Church, and in consequence also the imperial legisla
tion, proceeded with special severity against the widely-spread
vice of peederasty. And the Christian Church succeeded in
banishing this vice till the period of the renaissance, when it
was again renewed with the revival of antiquity.
In such ways did the Church seek to work upon the forma
tion and establishment of Christian morals. That this took
place in such a legal way was natural; nor would it have been
questionable in itself, if the difference between the external
legal regulations and the internal world of the proper morality
of the disposition and the purity of the moral motives, had
been preserved in consciousness. But it was necessary to take
the masses that had passed into the Church, yet had remained
at bottom in many respects heathen, under external discipline;
and this as well as the psedagogic task which had sprung up
for the Church in connection with the new Germanic peoples
brought the danger of regarding this legal discipline as the
chief task of the ecclesiastical activity, and of thus increasing
the legal character of the system which was otherwise unfold
ing itself with the right foundation displaced. Moreover, this
tendency to a legal regulation of the whole life of the Church
was natural to the Boman spirit. Thus the Church of the
West always tended more and more to become a legal institu
tion. The Church of the Middle Ages continued to develop
itself always more into such an institution in the course of
tim e; and this has continued to be the character of the Boman
Church.
1 Basil, c. 21, 9, 48, 77. 2 Arelat. i. c. 10.
THE ETHICS OF THE CHUKCH OF THE
MIDDLE AGES.
M a r h e in e k e , Gesch. cler cliristl. Moral in den der Reformation vorher-
gehenden Jahrhh. i. 1806. This work contains a general exposition of
the theological spirit, of the ecclesiastical constitution, and of the canonical
Jurisprudence in relation to the Ethics of Christianity and the ethical
reflection of the Middle Ages. A second part entering more into details
was to follow, but it never appeared. D e W ette , Christi. Sittenlehre,
ii. 2, Berl. 1821. Staudlin, Gesch. der Sittenlehre Jesu, Bd. 4, Gott.
1823, p. 269 if. V . E icken , Gesch. u. System der mittelalt. W eltan
schauung, Stuttg. 1887. Z ieg l e r , Gesch. der E th ik , ii. 2 4 3 -4 1 3 . G ass ,
Gesch. der christl. Ethik, i. 2 4 1 -4 1 7 .
§ 50. General Character o f Mediaeval Ethics.
T he historical task of the Mediaeval Church in relation to

the peoples whom it embraced in itself, determined also the
ecclesiastical treatment of Ethics. This had reference partly
to the regulation and education of the peoples by the rules of
the Canon Law, especially those relating to the Confessional,
and partly to the reproduction of the results of the Ancient
Church in the Collections of Sentences and in Scholastic
Science. In all this the externalization and legalization· that
distinguished the earlier period, as well as the operation of
the non-Christian ancient influences, continued to go on. The
moral Ideal, however, continued to be monasticism and the
asceticism of desensualization; and this holds even of
mysticism and its strivings.
1. While the Church of the East passes out of the

historic movement, the historical task o f the Church o f the
Middle Ages in the West was primarily that of a mission to
the peoples and their education, and more especially to the
Germanic race wThich had now appeared upon the theatre of
history. This undoubtedly involved the danger of Chris
tianity becoming regarded as a law of the outward formative1
1 Marheineke, Gesch. der cliristl. Moral in den der Reformation vorlier*

gehenden Jahrhh. i., Nbg. u. Sulzb. 1806. Allgem. Darstellung des theol.
Geistes der kirchl. Yerfassung u. kanon. Rechtswissenschaft in Beziehung auf
die Moral des Christenth. u. die etb. Denkart des Mittelalters (the second
part, which was. to deal more with the details of the subject, did not appear).
De Wette, ChristL Sittenl. ii. 2, Berl. 1821. Staudlin, Gesch. der Sittenlehre
Jesu, Bd. 4, Gott. 1823, p. 269 ff. Y . Eicken, Gesch. u. System der mittelalterl.
Weltanschauung, Stuttg. 1887. Thcob. Ziegler, Gesch. der Etbik, ii. 243-413.
Gass, Gesch. der christl. Ethik, i. 241-417.
285
shaping of life, and of the Church being made a.legal institu
tion whose function is to regulate and direct every individual
action externally. The moral principle thereby became an
external law, and morality became convertible with the
legality of individual action. It was on this basis that the
various guides for confession, the penitential books, and the
casuistic writings were composed. Their aim was to guide
the clergy how to form the right judgment about the various
sinful actions in individual cases, and how to dispense the
corresponding penance. This led to a quantitative lowering
of the moral element, and to an external and temporal
measuring of penitence. This penitential practice was, more
over, supported by the German legal custom of making com
pensation for evil deeds by corresponding satisfactions of a
money kind. Accordingly the rules applicable to particular
cases were drawn up at different synods; and through these
the external life in its moral states, both in the clergy and
laity, was to be taken under moral discipline.
2. The Canon Law.— In order to fulfil this function the
Church of the Middle Ages, in continuation of the ancient
Homan tradition, saw its vocation in the government of the
peoples embraced within its pale ; and it accordingly unfolded
itself into a jural commonwealth which, as such, ascribed
divine authority to itself. In consequence of this, its
Canonical Law is permeated on the one side with moral
thoughts and principles, while on the other the legal regula
tions of the Church and the divine moral Law are identified
and confounded with each other. The moral principle was
thus lowered and brought down to the level of the jural
legislation; and thereby the pre - Christian confusion of
morality and legal right was renewed.
3. The Popular Treatment o f Morals.— The Church of the
Middle Ages regarded it as its vocation to communicate and
elaborate scholastically the conceptions of the Ancient Church
in order to make them available as a means for the educa
tion of the peoples, and to convey the product of the ancient
and ecclesiastical past to the new world of the nations.
Thus arose popular treatises on moral themes, especially on
the virtues and vices; and corresponding to this end, and in
conformity at the same time with the whole mental idiosyncrasy
of the Middle Ages, they exhibited a preference for schematic
treatment. Thus there were reckoned 7 capital sins (or 8 if
superbia and cenodoxia were distinguished), 7 works of mercy,
7 sacraments, 7 principal virtues, 7 gifts of the spirit, 8
beatitudes, 10 commandments, 12 articles of faith, and 12
fruits of faith. This numerical schematism may be traced
from Isidore through Bede and Alcuin, and it always became
more strongly developed. The combination of 4 and 3 plays
here a special part, and this is explained by the numerical
symbolism of the Bible. Thus, for instance, Bede enumerates
the 4 wounds of original sin as ignorantia, malitia, infirmitas,
concupiscentia.
4. Out of this beginning grew the scientific treatment of
Morals which attained its height in the system of Thomas
Aquinas. But in this system the Christian ethic appears
only as a superstructure on the substructure which the
ancient ethics, especially Aristotle’s, had laid, so that it is
only an accedens, and not a power that renews the whole
moral thinking and life from the foundation. Notwithstand
ing all the elements of truth which the ethical doctrine of the
scholastics has preserved, it does not pass beyond the quanti
tative^ mode of regarding the subject, or the method which is
proper to the casuistic and juridical treatment of ethics
in estimating individual and external works. It therefore
also fails to overcome the ancient error of the distinction
between a lower and a higher morality.
5. And just as little can the Ethics o f Mysticism be
regarded as having risen above these limitations, notwith
standing their accentuation of the inwardness of the relation
ship to God, since they lacked the correct moral conception of
God and the fundamental truth, of the righteousness of faith
as the standard of knowledge. On the contrary, in its denial
of the reality of the Ego in contrast to the absolute being of
God, the ethic of Mysticism only diverges the more into the
path of that false ideal of perfection which consists in the
negative morality of asceticism, and which is therefore
equivalent to the morality of monasticism.
6. On this standpoint the doctrine of morals does not
advance beyond the discord involved in the alternatives, that
if it is to become master of the world, it must become legal
and be an external government of life ; and if it would save
and preserve the character of inwardness, it must become
ascetic and monastic. It is in the combination of the two
sides of an external control of the world, and at the same
time of a negation of the world, and of the determination of
the one through the other, that the characteristic peculiarity
of the Mediaeval Church consists.
§ 51. The Collections o f Canons and the Penitential Boohs.1
1. The ecclesiastical training of the christianized peoples

was carried on especially through the confessional and its
questionings. This required direction and guidance for those
who heard the confessions, i.e. the father - confessors. An
enumeration of the particular cases and sins dealt with, may
serve to indicate the moral state of those times. As a con
dition of absolution, there was required, in addition to contritio
and confessio, the satisfactio operis. This was a work of
penance which was at first regarded as an active exhibition
of repentance, but afterwards as a compensation for an act
that was displeasing to God by means of a work which was
pleasing to Him, and which the father-confessor determined
according to the gravity of the sin. Guidance for the dis
charge of this function was given by the Libri pcenitentiales
which were founded upon the canonical decisions of the
Church. The visitations of the bishops on their episcopal
journeys assisted and supported the work of the confessional.
As a help to examining into the moral state of the individual,
definite questions were directed to the assembled people
regarding the various cases of murder, adultery, unchastity,
theft, and the robbery of churches, perjury and false witness,
witchcraft and superstition; and the offences were punished
1 Wasserschleben, Die Bussordnungen der abendlandischen Kirche, Halle 1851.

Hildenbrand, Unterss. liber die german. Ponitent. - Biicher, Wiirzb. 1851.
Kunstmann, die latt. Pon.-BB. der Angelsachsen, Mainz 1844. Eine viber-
sichtl. Zusammenstellung v. Busskanonens. Zachariae, Dissert, de locis moralis
theologiae (prefixed to the 3rd ed. of the work of Alph. Liguori). Schmitz, Die
Bussbiicher u. 'die Bussdisciplin der Kirche, Mainz 1883 (vgl. die Anzeige v.
AVasserschleben in d. Theol. Lit.-Zeitung, 1883, Hr. 26). Mejer, Bussbiicher,
P. R.*E.2 iii. 20 if. "Wasserschleben, Kanonen- u. Dekretalensammlungen,
P. R .-E .2 vii. 474 if.
with corresponding penances.1 No doubt this was a whole
some discipline in connection with the moral rudeness and
unbridledness of the time, yet it was carried out only by
means of a practice of law which bore in itself more of a
politico-juridical than a spiritual and evangelical character.
This whole regulation of the penitential discipline of the
Church was devised in behoof of an equitable judgment and
punishment of particular moral transgressions, and especially of
those of a coarser kind. It introduced into ethics an important
juristic element and a quantitative view and treatment of indi
vidual cases. This arose from the fact that judicial decision
in the confessional, could deal with the individual case less as an
object of judgment in its internal subjective motives than in
its external actual manifestation. This mode of dealing was
occasioned by the pedagogic function of the Church in rela
tion to the newly christianized peoples and the barbarism of
the time.2 The moral condition showed itself also in the
increasing profligacy of the clergy, especially of the monks
from the ninth till the eleventh century; and it even required
legal suppression.3
2. Collections o f Canons.4— The Canons of the Greek and
1 Cf. Gass, i. 257 if., and Regino’s Libri duo de synodalibus causis et discip
linis ecclesiasticis (c. 906 a . d .), ed. Wasserschleben, Lpz. 1849, where there are
not less than eighty such questions enumerated, and as many cases are considered
anticipatively. A very great number of Provincial Synods occupied them
selves with these disciplinary questions.
2 The Canons of the Church treat of usury, of assassination, of self-defence,
of violation of the peace of God (which was commanded by the Treuga),
of unbridled lust, of the robbing of pious pilgrims, and of the irregularities of
thaumaturgists and sorcerers. Cf. Rietter, Die Moral des h. Thom. v. Aquin.,
Miinch. 1858, p. 132, where are also stated the objections to this way of dealing
with morality.
3 See the accounts of the morals of that time, e.g. Gieseler, ii. 1, p. 255 f.
Descriptions of the decay of the monastic discipline in the tenth and eleventh
centuries are to be found in Yogel, Rotherius v. Yerona, Jena 1854, pp. 41 ff.,
67 ff., 267, 350, as well as in Peter Damiani ( t 1072) in his Liber Gomorrhianus.
What had to be provided for in the case of Bishops and Clergy, may be seen
from the sections in Regino’s work referred to above (De Syodalibus, ed. Wasser*
schleben), where we find the following : De incontinentia clericorum, i. 85-100 ;
De ebriosis clericis, 1 35 -1 5 0; De his qui eucharistiam vouiunt, i. 151; De clericis
inter epulas cantantibus, De clericis maledicis,—jurantibus—detractoribus—
lascivis et superbis— seditiosis, de clericis, ini mutuam csedem prorumpentibus,
i. 152-170, etc. Gass, i. 260.
4 Cf. the sources given in th e Text-books ©f Church Law ; e.g. Friedberg,
2 Aufl., Lpz. 1884, § 34 ff.
VOL. I. T
Western Synods were collected and arranged together. An
influential collection in the West, was that which was
produced by Dionysius Exiguus, a monk of the fifth century.
He put together the Oriental Canons (including 50 Canones
Apostolorum, 165 numbers taken from a Greek collection
of the Canons of Nicea, Ancyra, Neo-Caesarea, Gangra, Antioch,
Laodicea, and Constantinople; twenty-seven Canons of Chalce
don, and twenty-one of Sardica), along with various Roman
(Papal) Decrees, and Decisions of African Synods (the Acts
of the Synod of Carthage of the year 419, with the decisions of
the Synods from 393 A.D., in 13 8 numbers). Similar collections
were prepared by Fulgentius Ferrandus, a deacon of Carthage,
c. 547 a . d . (Breviatio Canonum, an excerpt from the Greek
Canons of Dionysius Exiguus and the African Canons up
till 427 a .d ., in 232 chapters), and by the African bishop
Cresconius, c. 690 a . d . (Concordia Canonum, containing the
matter of the collection of Dionysius under three hundred titles).
In Spain, again, there existed in the sixth century a collection
of Canons (decisions of Councils) and Papal Decretals (Isido-
rian), supplemented by the collection of Archbishop Martin o f
Bracara (t c. 580),1 and afterwards adulterated in France by
spurious interpolations and observations (forming the Pseudo-
Isidorian Decretals).— Similar collections of Canons also arose
in the ancient British, Scottish, and Irish Church, as well
as in the Anglo-Saxon Church (v. the Penitential Orders of
Theodore, Bede, Egbert). The Irish collection, which probably
arose in the eighth century (Collectio Canonum Hibernensium),
may be particularly referred to.— In the Frank Empire the
enlarged Dionysian collection was introduced (probably at the
Imperial Synod of Aix-la-Chapelle in 8 0 2 ); and later there
was also introduced the great Spanish collection with the
Pseudo-Isidorian Decretals, to which a series of other collec
tions were afterwards added. The great number of these
collections, and the contradictions among the canons, made a
harmonized summary of them necessary. This was done by
the monk Gratian at Bologna in the Decretum Gratiani1 2 about
the middle of the twelfth century. The first part of this work
1 Cf. § 45. 9, supra.

2 Called by himself Concordia discordantium canonum, in order to indicate its
main purpose.
consists of 101 Distinctiones relating to tlie sources of law
and to ecclesiastical persons (Tractatus ordinandorum). The
second part contains 3G causae, i.e. legal precedents, with
questions annexed to them and answers given by canons, and
relating especially to spiritual jurisdiction, ecclesiastical crimes,
and judicial procedure. But from causa 27 they treat of the
right of marriage (Tractatus conjugii), and under causa 33
there is a special Tractatus de poenitentia. The third part,
entitled De consecratione, treats in 5 Distinctiones of the
religious actions, namely, the Sacraments. Further collections
followed, containing especially the papal decrees from the
twelfth century, and canons composed under papal authority
(quinque compilationes). These were compiled and arranged
by Baymund of Pennaforte ( a .d . 1230—1234) in the Five
Books of the Decretals of Gregory IX., to which were then
added the Liber sextus of Boniface V III. and the Constitutiones
Clementines of Clement V. These productions along with the
Decretum Gratiani were afterwards arranged and edited to
gether under the collective name of a Corpus ju ris canonici.
In accordance with the legal character of the Koman
Church, these collections make no distinction between jural
and moral laws; and the Law and the Gospel are embraced
under the conception of the jus and justum. This is a renewal
of the theocracy on Christian soil. On the one hand, it
presents an ethic which becomes a jurisprudence; and, on the
other hand, it exhibits the attempt to regulate all the relation
ships of life from the standpoint of a universal ecclesiastical
supremacy, and an asceticism standing in the service of the
Church.
Gratian’s work may be characterized on the side of its moral
views. It begins with the following general consideration:1
“ The human race is ruled by two things, by natural right
and by moral practice. The natural right is contained in the
Law and the Gospel. By it every one is commanded to do to
another what he would wish done to himself, and by it every
one is forbidden to do to another what he would not have
others do to him. Wherefore Christ in the Gospel says: ‘ What
ye would that men should do to you, etc. . . . For this is the
law and the prophets.’ ” By “ right,” Gratian understands all
that the law and the gospel command or forbid, so that he
1 St'audlin, iv. 464 ff.
makes no difference between prescriptions of right and of virtue.
" Moral practice ” is a matter of custom. “ A ll laws are either
divine or human. Divine laws exist through nature, human
laws through practice; and hence these latter laws are so
various among the peoples.— Eight is the general name; law
and practice are species of right. The law is a written consti
tution ; practice is a long habit or custom. Custom is a right
introduced by practice, and it is accepted instead of the law
when a law is wanting. It is all one whether it exists in
Scripture or reason; for reason recommends also the written
law. If all law exists in reason, then everything will be law
which rests merely upon reason, which is in harmony with
religion and discipline, and which conduces to salvation.” 1
Here then ethics in the proper sense is also embraced under the
conception of right, and the whole is like a combination of the
moral and legal as in the Old Testament law of Israel.— When
Gratian further says of natural right that it has the prerogative
both in time and dignity among all rights, and that it began
with the beginning of the rational creation and is immutable,
we easily recognise in this the influence of the old ecclesiastical
notions which had their root in the views of the Stoics. For
the moral commandments of the Old Testament also belong to
natural right. As this natural right is immutable, there is no
dispensation from it, except when two sins come into collision
with one another so that the one of the two must be chosen.
A multitude of ethical questions are mixed up with the ques
tions of right. Thus in connection with the case of a priest
having murdered any one in madness, the subject of imputation
and of the will, and of the sins proceeding from it, is dealt with
mostly according to Ambrose and Augustine. This mixing of
the ethical and juridical was thereby communicated to the
whole thinking of the age.
3. Many of these canons relate to penitence, and were
therefore collected and published in special Penitential Boolcs
for the use of the clergy in the Confessional (ut secundum id
quod ibi scriptum est interroget confitentes ut, confessor
modum poenitentiae imponat). The Penitential Books were
widely diffused from the seventh and eighth centuries in
Britain and Ireland, and thence even in the Frank and
German lands. What John Jejunator and John Scholasticus
were for the Greek Church, Theodore, Archbishop of Canter
bury (a Greek by birth, t 690), was for the Anglo-Saxon
Church, although the Pcenitentiale Theodori was not composed
1 Lib. i. Distinct, i. cap. 1-5.
by him, and it is generally uncertain whether he wrote him
self on the subject. Penitential Orders are likewise ascribed
to the Venerable Bede (t 735), and to Egbert, Archbishop of
York (t 767). The Irish and A nglo-Saxon Penitential
Orders were transmitted by Columba (t 615) to the Church
of the Frank empire in the Liber de Poenitentia (de poeniten
tiarum mensura taxanda) and the Regula Ccenobialis (de
quotidianis poenitentiis monachorum).' These works form the
foundation of many later penitential books, but their variety
and confusion called forth repeated interposition from the
side of the Church, and thereby occasioned attempts to improve
them. Thus arose the Liber pcenitentialis of Bishop Halitgar
of Cambrai in 829 A.D., the Sixth Book of which was, however,
of Frankish origin, and is entitled Poenitentialis Eomanus,
quem de scrinio Eomanae ecclesiae adsumpsimus. Further,
the Liber pcenitentice of Eabanus Maurus, who died in 856 as
Archbishop of Mayence, was republished by Eabanus himself
in his Epistola ad Heribaldum Autissiodorensem by way of
answering questions put by Heribald, Bishop of Auxerre, in
853. Besides these works there were also many others the
matter of which passed into the collections o f the Canon Law
down to Gratian. The many individual questions embodied
in the Penitential Books were increased both by the Canon
Law and by the formalism of the Scholastic moral science.
Connected as they were with auricular confession, which
required the judicial decision of the priest on the several
actions, they led to the development of casuistry, and occa
sioned a systematic treatment of the manifold material in the
Summce by the Casuists or moralists, or as they were also
called the Summists, in distinction from the Canonists. The
first production of this kind is considered to be the work of
Eaymund of Pennaforte, in the thirteenth century, entitled
Summa de casibus pcenitentialibus, in four alphabetically
arranged books. It was widely circulated, and was followed
by many similar works. Among these may be specially
mentioned the Astesana (Summa de casibus conscientiae, in
eight Books 1330, ISTorimb. 1482, Venet. 1519, etc., by
the Franciscan Astesanus of Asti), distinguished by its more
systematic arrangement, and by having prefixed to it the
general doctrine of the divine commandments, the virtues and
vices; the Pisanella' (by Bartholomew of Pisa, c. 1 3 3 8 ;
published at Paris in 1470, at Venice in 1476, at Milan in
1494, and at Lyons in 1 5 1 9 ); the Pacifica (by Pacificus of
Novara, c. 1470, printed at Venice in 1 5 7 4 ); the Rosetta (by
the Genoan Tronnamala, printed at Strasburg in 1 5 1 6 ); and
the Angelica (by the Genoan Franciscan Angelus of Clarosio,
t 1495, first published in 1486). Sylvester Prierias, known
as an opponent of Luther, also published a Summa casuum
conscientia, which is likewise called Summa summarum in
1515, 1518. This work was merely a summary of the
other works in an alphabetical form.
4. Certain special determinations o f Church Law} — The synods
continued the conflict against the survivals of heathenism and
heathen practices, such as offerings to the dead, soothsaying,
amulets, sorcery, offerings at fountains, trees, stones, etc.
Social intercourse with the Jews was forbidden. The evi
dence of Jews against Christians was declared to be invalid,
and what Jews had gained from Christians by usury, they
had again to restore. The laws against heretics were made
more stringent. The bishops were enjoined to exercise
precise supervision, and the authorities were urged to care
fulness and severity. Those who were condemned for heresy
were to be handed over to the magistrate for condign punish
ment ; and the support of heretics was to be punished with
excommunication.1 2 As the clergy were the light of men and
the salt of the earth, it was their duty to preserve this salt,
to know well the Canons and the “ pastoral rule ” of Gregory
the Great. They were enjoined to exhort the people dili
gently, and the bishop was specially to take charge of the ·
poor before the courts, to give a good example, and to preach
1 Staudlin, iv. 473 if.

2 Stringent decrees were passed in reference to heretics, particularly by the
Synods of Avignon in 1209 (c. 2), and Toulouse in 1229 (c. 1 -3, 6, 7, 9-13, 15).
In connection therewith, the latter Synod also prohibited the laity from having
or using the Scriptures, c. 2 : Prohibemus etiam nec libros V. T. aut N. laid
permittantur habere, nisi forte psalterium vel breviarium pro divinis officiis aut
horas b. Mariae aliquis ex devotione habere velit. Sed ne praemissos libros
habeant in vulgari translatos arctissimi prohibemus. The Synod of Tarracon
in 1234 ordained (c. 2) not merely that no one should have any Books of the
Old and New Testaments in the Romanic language (in Romanico), but that
whoever did not give up such to the bishop to be burned, should lie under the
suspicion of heresy until he purged himself of it. %
diligently.1 The bishops were to read much; whenever
possible, they were to learn by heart the Gospel and the
Epistles of Paul, and to make themselves acquainted with
the works written by the holy Fathers upon them. Further,
they were to plant schools, and to inquire as to whether the
parochial priests knew and taught the Decalogue, and had
knowledge of the deadly sins, the seven sacraments, and the
articles of the Christian faith. — Numerous canons were
promulgated against Simony. Various synods forbade the
taking of anything for the performance of clerical acts.2 The
old canons against the marriage, concubinage, and licentious
ness of the clergy, and their living with females, were often
repeated and made more stringent. The same holds with
regard to the other determinations regarding the clergy in the
matter of luxury of dress and worldly modes of life ; against
their visiting public houses, engaging in common trades, or
being guilty of theft, turbulence, assault, arson, intoxication,
false coining, and such lik e ; 3 which undoubtedly show a
questionable condition of society. It was not merely in
regions like Hungary that such decrees were necessary; the
moral state of the clergy, and even of the bishops in the
Franco-Gallic Church, furnishes examples of a similar kind.4
— In regard to the monastic Orders, many decrees are found
which are directed to the preservation of chastity. No women
were to live or serve in the monasteries; the monasteries
were not to be double so as to include both monks and nuns;
and mutual access was forbidden. It appears that the
nunneries often needed thorough reform, and their members
required rigid supervision and limitation; for they were not
seldom the seat of incredible licentiousness and immorality.5
In the synods, we meet again and again prohibitions directed
1 Tours, iii. (813) c. 1 7 : Quilibet episcopus habeat homilias continentes
necessarias admonitiones, quibus subjecti erudiantur, i.e. de fide catholica, etc.
Et ut easdem homilias quisque aperte transferre studeat in rusticam romanam
linguam aut theotiscam, quo facilius cuncti possint intelligere quae dicuntur.
2 But with the addition : nisi quod fideles sponte dare vel offere voluerint.
3 Salzburg, 1281, c. 17 j Gran (Strigon.), 1114, c. 48, 58 ; Ofen (Budens.),
1279, c. 7.
4 Cf. H. Riickert, Kulturgesch. des deutschen Volkes, ii., Lpz. p. 496 if.
5 Cf. e.g. the narratives of Gregory of Tours, x. 39-43, 15-17, regarding the
scandalous happenings in the monastery of St. Radegundis at Poitiers in 589.
Riickert, l.c. 522 f.
against unchastity and various other vices. One gets the
impression from these decrees that the monasteries and
nunneries must have given much cause for such regulations.
The duties towards the poor, widows, orphans, and slaves,
and towards strangers and travellers, were often pointedly
laid down by the synods and specially impressed on the
bishops. As regards marriage and the sexual life generally,
the earlier decisions, which were already very detailed, were
repeated in their essentials.— Duelling was put on a level
with murder by the Synod of Valence in 855 a .d . Any
person who killed or severely wounded another in a duel, was
to be excommunicated as a murderer and robber; and who
ever fell in a duel was to be regarded as a suicide. If trial
by duel, as well as other ordeals and judgments of God,
became more frequent, this did not rest upon a n y synodal
decrees. In like manner, those who perished in tournaments
were not to receive ecclesiastical burial; and tournaments
were regarded as duels.1 In order to counteract the influence
of feuds, the synods caused the oath of peace (treuga) to be
sworn from time to time under the threat of heavy penalties.12
The punishment o f death was also now regarded with general
aversion from the side of the Church. A clergyman was
never to pronounce a sentence of death, and he was not to
promote revenge for blood. Suicides, persons executed for
crimes, and those who were excommunicated, or who stood
under interdict, robbers, and all criminals who died without
absolution, were excluded from ecclesiastical burial.
A few further details may be cited from the older Penitential

Books.3 Gluttony and drunkenness were punished by the
penance of fasting from three to forty days, according to the
circumstances of each case. Sexual sins, which are referred to
in all conceivable forms of excess, and with the most specific,
obscene details, were punished with penance for years, and even,
under certain circumstances, till death. Homicide, according
to its circumstances, was visited with the penalty of from forty
1 Lateran. iii. 1179, c. 2 0 ; ir. 1215, c. 18.

• Nar bonne, 1054. Rouen, 1096, c. 1-4.
3 Gass, Gescb. der Ethik, i. 253 f., especially in reference to the Pcenitentiale
Theodori. Details are given by Friedberg, Aus deutschen Bussbuchern. Ein
Beitr. zur deutschen Kulturgesch., Halle 1868. »
days to ten years. The killing of a priest was doubly punished.
Child murder and exposure, on the other hand, were punished
mildly. But to celebrate Easter with the Jews on the 14th
day of the month, in opposition to the Nicean Council, was
punished with full excommunication, and therefore much more
severely than murder. This shows that the commandment of
the Church was put higher than the commandment of God
(cf. Matt. xv. 1 ff.). Perjury was visited with a penance lasting
for years, yet with a difference according as the false oath was
made before a consecrated or unconsecrated cross; in the
former case the penance was for three years, and in the latter
for one year. Anything suffocated or accidentally killed, was
prohibited as food. Heathen sacrifices or magical practices
were to be expiated by years of penance. The combination of
the moral, legal, and what came under social practice, showed
a relapse from the height of Christian morality to the stage of
the pre-Christian moral view. This as well as the isolation of
moral cases and their decisions, which, by the nature of things,
could not but be confined, more or less, to the external act, and
which mixed up the function of the pastor, the judge, and the
teacher, could only confuse and externalize the moral judgment,
and ultimately lead ethics aside into the path of probabilism.
Moreover, the transmutation of penance into money payments
in connection with the old German legal practice of expiating
offences by means of money, and the perversion of what is
most inward into a most external performance, could not but
do more harm to the conscience than all the teaching and
discipline of the Church could possibly make up for.
§ 52. The Pre-Scholastic Treatment o f Ethics.
The beginning of the Middle Ages presents a series of

works which, like the writings of Isidore of Seville, seek to be
the means of communicating the product of the Patristic
Period to the Church of the Middle Ages.1
1. The Venerable Bede (Beda Venerabilis, t 375) exhibited

the zeal of a collector. His Scintillce patrum— if this is
indeed his work— is a collection of short moral sayings on the
most various virtues and errors. It is arranged in eighty
chapters, and the material is derived from the Holy Scriptures
and the Fathers. Its object is to guide to conduct in accord-*
ance with its maxims. In his exegetical labours he has also,
by means of 'the allegorical method which he followed, intro·*
duced many moral observations and elucidations.
The Anglo-Saxon monk Aldhelm ,1 who died in 709 as a
bishop, continued the earlier works on virginity and the prin
cipal vices, and in special connection with the above-mentioned
poets who treated these ethical themes. He addressed a
treatise to an abbess and the nuns under her charge, entitled
Be laudibus virginitatis, s. de Virginitate Sanctorum. Ald
helm says that as honey excels all other kinds of sweetness,
so does virginity excel the other virtues. Marriage is not
indeed to be despised, but it is on a lower grade* To this
view lie attached his explanation of the eight principal vices,
and of pride as the worst of them, with which the ascetics
have to combat, so that they thus need the support of the
other virtues. He refers to Cassian and the Moralia of
Gregory the Great. As an " example,” he added (c. 20 if.) a
short characteristic of a series of ascetics and (c. 40) of
women. He further treated this theme in a poem, Be laude
virginum., containing 2 9 0δ hexameters, which in the last 41.9
hexameters treats de octo principalibus vitiis, and of the
struggle with these principal vices. This poem only repeats
what former writers had said.
2. A new age, both of ecclesiastical and theological litera
ture, begins for the Western Continent with Charlemagne.
His influence extended through wide circles, and reached
beyond the time of Louis the Pious. The Ancient Church
had already in its scientific representatives more or less con
sciously regarded it as its task to combine the ancient element
and the Christian element with each other. Christian Rome
set up this alliance for the West. Charlemagne considered it
his duty to be the means of communicating the culture of
Rome to his new Frank dominions. With this he inaugurated
the theme of the Western Middle Ages. The Roman Church
has continued to be till to-day the combination of these two
elements, the ancient and the Christian. And assuredly it
has been an external combination, in which the Christian
element has had only the significance of an accessory com
pletion instead of an internally renovating power, and even in
many respects only that of an external vesture, behind which
1 Ebert, i. l.c .
the ancient, or rather heathen, nature has remained un-
changedly the same. The man who chiefly aided Charlemagne
in communicating the old culture of Koine to the Franks of
his new empire was the Anglo-Saxon Alcuin.
A len in 1 realized the necessity of making the traditional
knowledge available for a new scientific elaboration, and he
thus formed the transition from the patristic to the scholastic
time. His De virtutibus et vitiis, in thirty-six chapters, was
composed as a manual for a Frank Count named Wido.1 2 It
is a collection of Bible passages and other Christian ethical
sentences, but without the names of the authors. It treats of
the genuine wisdom and of the three theological virtues, and
then in irregular order of other virtues and duties, as well as
of the eight principal sins (following Cassian) and the four
cardinal virtues.3 Among the means of virtue the reading of
the Holy Scripture is particularly recommended, because we
thereby learn to know ourselves and have love to God kindled
within us. Further, the confession of sins and fasting, com
bined with repentance and improvement, are required. His
treatise De ratione animcc (Liber ad Eulaliam virginem) seeks
to prove from the nature of the soul that man is destined for
the love of God. It is a need of the soul to love, and
naturally to love the good; but God is the highest and most
perfect good; and therefore love to Him is the deepest need
and the highest satisfaction of the soul. The rational soul is
called to rule over the lower powers, which include the faculty
of desire and of aversion (the concupiscibile et irascibile);
and it has thus to realize morality, which is described under
the four cardinal virtues, whose higher unity is love. Sin, on
1 Staudlin, iv. 271 ff. K . Werner, Alcuin u. s. Jahrhundert, Padcrb. 1876.

Ebert, ii. 12 if.
2 As a manualis libellus in which he could daily contemplate himself and find
what he ought to do in order to attain to the culmen perfectionis, which is pos
sible for laymen as well as for others. For the qualitas secularis conversationis
is not an impediment to entering into the Kingdom of Heaven. It is the non
monk Alcuin who here speaks.
3 On the Cardinal Virtues : Prudentia est rerum divinarum humanarumque,
prout homini datum est, scientia, in qua intelligendum est, quid cavendum sit
homini vel quid faciendum.— Justitia est animi nobilitas unicuique rei propriam
tribuens dignitatem.— Fortitudo est magna animi patientia et longanimitas et
perseverantia in bonis operibus et victoria contra omnium vitiorum genera.
Temperantia est totius vitse modus etc. Gass, i. 264.
the other hand, consists in the domination of the lower
impulses over reason. From unbridled desire there arise
excess, licentiousness, covetousness; from the uncontrolled
faculty of aversion (irascibile) there arise anger, melancholy
(tristitia), and inertness or dulness (acedia); and reason again
degenerates into pride (superbia, the source of sins) and vain
glory (cenodoxia), from which the other capital vices arise.
Finally, his treatise Be confessione peccatorum belongs to
the practical works which were composed as aids to church
discipline, the confessional, and the cure of souls, and which
turned ethics into casuistry.
3. In consequence of his being called upon by Archbishop
Ebbo of Eheims to produce a work which would overcome
the differences and contradictions of the Penitential Books,
and the disorders in the practice of the confessional which
were thereby occasioned,1 Halitgarius,2 Bishop of Cambrai,
in the reign of Louis the Pious, wrote his Be virtutibus et
vitiis et de ordine pcenitentium. It is properly a Penitential
Book, and hence was also entitled Libri quinque pcenitentiales.
The matter of it was taken from other works. Book I. treats
of the eight principal vices, with their offshoots, and the
means to be adopted against them. It is almost entirely
taken from Augustine, Prosper, and Gregory the Great.
Book II. treats of the active and contemplative life, the theo
logical virtues, virtue generally, and the usual cardinal virtues.
Books III. and IV. discuss the penitence of the laity, its time,
kind, and manner, and the penances to be undergone for par
ticular sins and vices. Book V. deals, in conclusion, with the
penitences of the clergy.3
Jonasf Bishop of Orleans, a contemporary of Halitgar, found
occasion through Count Matfrid of Orleans to write on the
question: How those who live in marriage have to lead a life
1 Ita confusa sunt judicia pcenitentium in presbyterorum nostrorum opus-

culus atque ita diversa et inter se discrepantia etc. So runs the letter of the
Archbishop to Halitgar.
8 Staudlin, iv. 280 if.
8 Under the special title, Regulae de ministris ecclesiae, si deviaverint,
canonice prolatae. The whole concludes with a luctuosa descriptio camaliter
viventium sacerdotum.
• 4 Staudlin, iv. 282 f. Amelung, Leben u. Schriften des Bisch, Jon. v. OrL
Inaug. Dessert., Drcsd. 1888.
well-pleasing to God ? His treatise, Be institutione laicalit in
Three Books, is made up of a collection of passages from the
Scriptures and the Fathers of the Church. He occupies him
self with this question in Book II., but goes beyond it and
gives instruction concerning the whole Christian life, so that
the work, on account of its rich ethical contents, is of import
ance for the history of Christian Ethics.1 According to Jonas,
Christian morality is founded in baptism and in penitence,
which were put from of old into close relation with each other.
He indicates as the religious duties that rest upon these,i2
diligent attendance on church and constant prayer. Prayer
is to be practised in all places, and not merely in the church.
Passing on to marriage 8 and conjugal fidelity, he calls to mind
that married people ought to care for the salvation of the souls
of their households. He explains at length thereafter the
duties of the clergy4 and the poor,5 the sins of the tongue,6
and the duty of hospitality.7 He then proceeds to explain
the principal Christian virtues and the principal sins.8 He
next treats of other sins of the tongue,9 and the duty of mercy
in contrast to avarice,10 calling to mind that one ought to be
merciful to his own soul before he exercises mercy to others;
and that one should not think that he can purchase permission
from God to sin by performing many good deeds. He lays
the chief importance all through upon the disposition. He
also wrote a treatise of instruction for a king, entitled De
institutione regia, which was dedicated to Pepin, and which
was recapitulated in the decrees of the Synod of Paris of 829
a . d . along with part of the De institutione laicali.11 Of the
two powers, the priestly and the royal, the first, according to
him, stands far above the second. He connects the general
moral precepts with the duties of the regent. Love, bona
voluntas, is the unity of the virtues. But to the law of God
incumbent on all there are to be added for the ascetic who
flees from the world the precepts of the gospel (consilia evan^
gelica). It is evident that we have here again the traditional
way of thinking.
i Amelung, l.c. p. 48 f. 2 I. 11-20. 3 II. 1 ff.

4 II. 19-21. 5 H I. 22-24. « III. 26-28.
7 II. 29. 8 III. 1 -6 . 8 III. 7-9. ” III. 10, 11.
π So Amelung in opposition to others.
Smaragdiis} Abbot of St. Michael, in the diocese of Verdun,
wrote a similar treatise, entitled Via regia, and dedicated it
to Louis the Pious. It treats of the Christian duties generally,
and the duties of a ruler in particular. The “ royal w ay”
which the earthly king must walk upon in order to attain to
the heavenly kingdom, is described by the author. In his
description he treats first of the love of God and of our neigh
bour, then of the fulfilment of the commandments of God
which that love requires, of the fear of God, and of the sacred
wisdom, of which fear of God is the beginning, and of prudence,
simplicity, and patience (c. 1—7). He then turns to the more
special royal duties and virtues, to justice, the protection of
orphans, widows, and the poor, and to mercy, through which
works God is to be honoured. In this connection he men
tions the tithes and firstlings with which the king has to
honour God, i.e. the Church, in order thus to lay up treasure
for himself in heaven. He ought not to boast of earthly
treasures, but humble himself before God, and this will con
duce to his peace. He ought to be zealously concerned for
the Church, etc. (c. 8 -2 0 ). The treatise then deals with
errors, and gives warning against them (c. 21 ff.). Pride,
which brought Satan to his fall, is as usual named first, and
then jealousy and envy. Goodness of heart is the means of
saving one from the first, and brotherly love from the others.
The king should not requite evil with e v il; he should suppress
anger, should not listen to flatterers, should guard himself
against covetousness and avarice. He should charge judges
that they ought not to ask any reward for the exercise of justice;
and he should be anxious for the manumission of the serfs in
his kingdom, as we are all created equal by nature (c. 30).2
The book closes with an exhortation to the king to pray for
God’s help, that he may be able to fulfil such duties. Another
treatise by the same author has much affinity with the one
now mentioned. It is entitled Diadema Monachorum vel de
ecclesiasticorum et monachorum maxime virtutibus. As the
preface says, it is an anthology of expressions of the Fathers,
taken mostly from Cassian’s Collationes patrum and from
1 Staudlin, iv. 286 f. Ebert, ii. 108 ff.
2 Considerans (the master of the servants) quia non illi eos natura subegit sed
culpa ; conditione enim aequaliter creati sumus. * >
“ various doctors,” Gregory the Great being particularly used.
It surveys the duties of the Christians generally, and of the
monk in particular, and contains 100 chapters. It was
designed for the evening reading of the monks, as Benedict’s
rule formed their morning reading. It was held in respect
through the whole of the Middle Ages, and was repeatedly
printed in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.
4. The impulses given by Alcuin were continued most
successfully by his learned and zealous scholar, the German
Hraban, better known as Babanus Maurus} He was Abbot
of Fulda and Archbishop of Mayence (t 856). He carried
on Alcuin’s work both by oral instruction and by varied
literary activity. He wrote various disciplinary ascetic and
ethical treatises. Of these may be named his De virtutibus
et vitiis et peccatorum satisfactione, which gives a survey of the
duties of the several classes of society; and his Dc vivendo
Deo, puritate cordis et modo poenitentiae, in Three Books. He
likewise dealt with the relations of his time, especially with
the imprisonment and dethronement of Louis the Pious by his
sons in 833 A.D., and exhibited his remarkable stedfastness
of character in his treatise De reverentia filiorum erga patres et
subditorum erga reges, in which he inculcates the divine com
mandment to honour parents, on the ground of Holy Scripture,
and then shows how displeasing to God is the insubordination
of subjects to those entrusted with the royal dignity. In his
Sermons he also often treats of moral themes. Thus, in his
42nd and 43rd Homilies, he combats the remaining traces of
heathen superstition, all the absurd practices kept up during
the waning moon, as well as the consulting of soothsayers and
interpreters of signs in cases of sickness, as also those vices
of the time,2 which were regarded as of no consequence, or
even boasted of as virtues, such as revelling and drunken
ness (comessatio and ebrietas) in the case of the rich and poor,
and even of the clergy. It is easy to understand that the
contemplative life stands in his judgment, as a monk, higher
than the active life, although he himself was active enough,
and represented in many respects a sound ethic. The gospel
demands purity of heart, for it is only the pure in heart who
see God; and the world of the higher morality is, therefore,
1 Ebert, ii. 120 if. 2 Homil. 63.
the inward life of the soul. But the way to it goes through
conflict (agon Christianus), the conflict of virtue (virtus non
vis), and its four cardinal virtues (according to the number of
perfection), against its enemies the seven or eight vices (accord
ing to the number of the seven nations which Israel had to
overcome at the conquest of Canaan, or eight with Egypt
included); and this conflict is to be carried through by means
of asceticism. He thus expounds the subject in his explana
tion of the Rule of the Benedictines.
Undoubtedly theGottshalk controversy about predestination
and the question of the sacraments, was what most employed
the minds and pens of that active time, so that the questions of
ethics received less consideration. Paschasius Padbertus (t 865),
who is known in connection with the history of the doctrine
of the eucharist, wrote, however, on the three theological
virtues, De fide, spe, et caritate, in Three Books, i.e. De tribus
istis virtutibus, sine quibus nemo est Christianus, as he says
in his conclusion. He expounds in detail that principle
which afterwards became through Anselm characteristic of the
thinking of the Middle A ges: Credo ut intellegam.1 Hinkmar
o f Rheims2 (t 882) found time, along with his extensive
activity and his taking part in the predestination controversy
in his De praedestinatione et libero arbitrio, to compose certain
political and moral writings. Thus, by the wish of Charles
the Bald, he wrote his De regis persona et regio ministerio, on
the duties of a ruler, consisting mainly of a collection of
passages of Holy Scripture and expressions of the Fathers of
the Church, especially Ambrose, Augustine, and Gregory the
Great. In this work he lays down the positions that only
just wars are to be waged; that for those who have fallen in
such wars oblations, alms, and prayers should be offered;
and that crimes ought to be impartially punished. A t the
close, he gave special consideration to the question how a king
should behave to such near relatives as offend against God,
1 Porro ilia quae de Deo divinitus dicuntur, credibilia quidem sunt simul
et intelligibilia; sed nisi credantur primo, nunquam intelliguntur; idcirco
necesse est credantur ex toto corde et ex tota anima et ex tota virtute, ut Christp
illustrante hic ex parte et in futuro ex toto intelligantur ; et tanto amplius vel
perfectius hic aut illuc, quanto mundiores corde mandatorum Dei praeceptor-
nmque observatores erimus, i. 7. 2.
2 Ebert, ii. 247 if.
tlie Church, and the sovereign authority, a discussion occasioned
by. occurrences that had taken place in the Carlovingian
dynasty. His other treatise, Be cavendis vitiis et virtutibus
exercendis, is likewise addressed to Charles the Bald. It is
specially founded upon the Moralia and Homilies of Gregory
the Great. It gives a vivid description of the (six) principal
vices: avaritia, superbia, luxuria, gula, invidia, ira, as well as
other minor vices. He · then proceeds to deal with the
question from which he started as to how far works of mercy
can wipe away guilt, and he holds that this cannot be done
without repentance, which demands abstinence from sin.
5. John Scotus Erigena1 resided at the Court of Charles the
Bald as a teacher. He came from Ireland, and died c. 88Q a .d .
His philosophical works and impulses influenced the following
centuries of the Middle Ages. What Scotus was the means
of ifltroducing to the West was chiefly the emanistic Neo-
Platonic Mysticism of Dionysius Areopagita and the kindred
thoughts of Maximus Confessor, the “ Divinus Philosophus”
His principal work is entitled Be divisione naturae. In Book
V. he expounds his general ethical thoughts in connection
with his acosmistic system. The world and man, in whom the
oppositions of nature are embraced, constitute the modes of the
manifestation of God, who cannot be conceived without the
creation, as the cause is not without the effect. The sensible
existence of man and of .the world is itself already a conse
quence of sin, through, which the original, spiritual, and
sexless corporeity o f man became sensible, material, and
sexual. The goal of man is therefore the return out of this
contradictory material existence to God, from the effect to the
cause (adunatio, deificatio); and this has taken place in
principle with the ascension of Christ. Man raises himself
through mystical contemplation to union with God,— a process
which is being continually realized in the course of the world,
in which God becomes all in all and manifests Himself as the
proper reality, and in whom all other being is merged. From1
1 Christlieb, Das Leben u. die Lehre des J. Scot. Erig., Goth. 1860. Ders.,
P. R .-E .2 xiii. 788-804. Huber, J. Sc. Er. Ein Beitrag zur Gesch. der Philos,
u. Theol. im M .-A ., Miincben 1861.. Noack, J. Sc. Er. Sein Leben u. s.
Sehriften, Lpz. 1876. Ebert, ii. 257 ft’. Further, see the Histories of the
Philosophy of the Middle Ages.
VOL. I. U
th is' Scotus Erigena deduced a mystically ’ grounded ascetic
morality, which on its own peculiar path concurred with the
monastic ideal of the time, and which also revealed its non-
ethical, but speculative and acosmistic root. For, the properly
historical and moral redemption has for this ethic of desen-
sualization hardly any significance at-all. These speculative
thoughts of Erigena gave a certain impulse at that time to
thinkers in the Church, and they afterwards exercised an
influence upon mysticism. Yet the fact that not merely the
followers of the St. Victors referred to him, but that the
pantheists, Amalrich of Bena, and David of Dinanto, and
other mystical sects of the Middle Ages went back to him,
had the effect of bringing him into suspicion in later times,
and the censure of the Church was repeatedly called forth by
his work, Be divina natura.
6. The brilliant time of Charles the Bald, with the shining
meteor of Erigena, was followed in the tenth century by what
has not been wrongly called the century of barbarism. In
France the fragments of better days were still to be found,
but Italy was completely sunk in sin and darkness; and this
was especially the case at Koine and with the Koman clergy,
who were only restrained by a crude belief in miracles. The
descriptions of Ratherius o f Verona1 (t 974), although rhetorical
in form, give us a dark picture of that time. He employed
the leisure of a long imprisonment to write his Prceloquia in ·
Six Books, in which he treated of the duties of every rank
and class in opposition to the external secularization of the
time. He sought reform in the strict observation of the
canons as the discipline inspired by God Himself, and in the
restoration of the authority of the spiritual office, or, in
short, in the intensification of an external ecclesiasticism. In
this sense he punished all disregard of the canons (de
contemtu canonum), and impressed on his clergy strict obser
vance of the laws of the Church.— The quiet life of the
learned monk Hermann o f Reichenau,1 23 surnamed the Lame
(Contractus, 1 1054), forms a contrast to the restless life of
1 Herm. Reuter, Gesch. der relig. Aufklarung im M .-A . i., Berl. 1875, p. 69 f.
On Ratherius specially, Alb. Yogel, Rath. v. Yer. u. das 10 Jahrh., 2 Thle., Jena
1854. Id. P. R .-E . xii. 503 ff.
3 Baumann, Stud. u. Krit. 1869. Wuttke, i. 472, note 49, by L. Schultze.
Ratherius. His didactic poem on the moral life of his time,
and especially on the abominations that prevailed in the
nunneries, was written for certain friendly nuns, and it treats
of the conflict against the eight principal sins.— Hildebert o f
Tours1 (t 1134) revived the ancient popular moral philosophy
of the Stoics. He was greatly celebrated, was a friend of
Anselm, and was lauded by Bernard of Clairvaux; but in
his ethics he was more dependent on Cicero and Seneca than
a properly Christian moralist. His Philosophia moralis de
honesto et u tili is an elucidation of the four ancient principal
virtues. It contains, in a way that entirely recalls Cicero,
an investigation of the honestum with a comparison of the
honesta, and then of the utile with a comparison of the utilia,
and finally an elucidation of the relation between the honestum
and the utile. He further wrote a Libellus * de quattuor
virtutibus vitee honestae. This treatise stands entirely on the
ground of the ancient ethics.1 2 It served to hand down the
ancient elements, a process which went side by side with the
transmission of the doctrine of the Church in the Middle Ages.
What we have here is a juxtaposition, an external connection
of these two things : and, as we have seen, this was character
istic of the Middle Ages.
7. About the middle of the eleventh century a new move
ment arose in France and Italy, which in various forms ruled
the whole of the following period of the Middle Ages. It was
partly of a scientific nature; and it had partly its origin in
monasticism. In France it was due to the impulses exerted
upon wide circles by the celebrated Gerbert, afterwards Pope
Sylvester II. (t 1,003), the results of which were carried on by
men like Lanfranc and Anselm. They also found a home in
Germany in the flourishing schools of Hildesheim, Bremen,
Luttich, Reichenau, and Hirschau.3 With this concurred the
reform of the Benedictine Order carried out in Clugny and
from that centre in the spirit of monastic severity. It soon
ruled the mental attitude of the age, and showed the Church
1 Wagenmann, P. R .-E .2 vi. 109 f.

2 E.g. de fortitudine : stultum est timere quod non possis vitare. Mors non
metuenda viris. Hac conditione cuncta gignuntur: quod coepit, etidm
desinet.
3 Herm. Reuter, Gesch. der relig. Aufkl. im M .*A. i. 85 ff.
the goal of universal sovereignty by the way of renunciation
of the world. For if the monk was the ideal of the Christian,
the moral renewal of Christendom appeared to coincide with
that of monasticism, a view which certainly, took the rest of
Christendom only indirectly into consideration. But the
essence of monasticism was renunciation of the w orld; and
therefore the task of life was to be accomplished by a completer
release from the world, which, however, according to the
Eoman view from the time of Gregory the Great, was to be
carried out so as to subserve the government of the world by
the Church.— Peter Damiani,1 born at Bavenna in 1007, was
a representative of this monastic severity. In his thirtieth
year, after the example of predecessors in the ancient Church,
he suddenly abandoned his learned position in life and joined
a community of hermits, whose prior and abbot he became.
He was soon honoured in wider circles as the saintly head and
energetic advocate of the new austerity which was then
introduced into monasticism. He carried out the so-called
discipline of monkish flagellation, in connection with his
scholar Dominicus (Loricatus2), to an incredible extent, and
practised it with a real fanaticism. The reading of the
Psalms at prayers was accompanied with strokes of the
scourge; 1000 strokes were given for every ten Psalms; and
therefore 150,000 were delivered during the reading of the
whole Psalter. The strokes were at first given with rods, but
afterwards with leathern thongs, in order thereby to make
expiation for hundreds of years. Damiani was himself com
pelled to check this frenzy for flagellation among his scholars.
It was laid down that no one was to be compelled to undergo
scourging; and every one as a rule was to be satisfied with
forty Psalms at one time, and therefore with 4000 lashes.
He embodied his view of this ascetic way of thinking in
various writings {De virtutibus; De Simonia; De correctione
episcopi et papce ; De eleemosyna ; De perfectione monachorum;
De ordine rcgulcc cremiticce, etc.); and he sharply criticised
the moral state of the clergy in his book written for Pope
Leo IX . concerning the Gomorrhian wickedness of the clergy
< 1 Ncukirch, Das Lehen des P. D ., 1 Tli., Gott. 1875. A . Vogel, Vortrag
iiber P. D ., Jena 1856, and P. R .-E .2 iii. 466 ff.
* So called from the coat of mail which he wore on his bare body.
{Liber Gomorrhianus). He also practically applied the same
critical severity to the clergy in church discipline, as well as
in numerous writings relating to the Pope and the cardinals,
in which he earnestly held up before them their duties, and
blamed their worldly luxury. He advocated this ascetic
denial of the world on the part of the Hildebrand party,*
whose efforts he incessantly promoted, in order to bring the
Church to supremacy over the world. He represents the two
sides of the theocratic idea of the Middle Ages which had
taken shape from the time of Gregory the Great, namely, .the
universal supremacy of the Church over the world, and the
realization of this supremacy by the way of ascetic denial of
the w orld; and he may be said to have given the idea its
most characteristic and most impressive popular form.
The authors of the other ethical productions of this time
mostly move on the usual paths. This holds of the dis*
tinguished Fulbert o f Chartres (t 1029), who treated ethical
subjects not only in his numerous letters and sermons, but
also in special treatises {Be laicorum et mulierum poenitentia ;
Be virtutibus; Sententiae antiquorum de virtutibus).— Peter o f
Plots (f c. 1200) is distinguished for his bold censure of the
moral abuses of the clergy and for his judgments on the
relative value of *external ceremonies. He wrote on the
duties of a father-confessor and of a bishop, and on Christian
friendship.— Peter o f Celle,, who became bishop of Chartres
(t 1183), is of interest from the way in which he treats of
monastic discipline, comparing Christian monasticism with the
analogous phenomena on the soil of heathenism and Judaism.1
Philosophy, i.e. heathenism, goes the way of the natural life of
the spirit; Judaism seeks earthly prosperity by sacrifices,etc.;
and Christianity seeks the grace of God. But this it does in
1 De disciplina claustrali, c. 8 : Scintilla naturalis boni, quae remansit in

homine, multiplices adinvenit disciplinas.— Unaquaeque gens pro capacitate
rationis disciplinam sibi confinxit ad quam viveret. — Intendit philosophia
gloriam humanam et favorem; Judaei bona terrae, Christiani spem veniae et
gratiae, et claustralis cumulum gratiae et gloriae. Philos, abjicit impedimenta
carnis et onera seculi ; Jud. hostiis et muneribus studet ad emendationem carnis ;
christ. sacramentis eccles. emundatur ab operibus mortuis ; claustralis non
solum abstinet ab illicitis sed etiam licitis. Phil, seminat in spiritu non De
sed suo et vano ; Jud. in carne ; christ. in fide spe et caritate ; claustr. in filiali
adoptione etc.
two stages: that of the common Christian life, which abstains
from what is forbidden, and keeps itself pure from dead
works by faith, hope, and love; and the higher stage of
monastic perfection, which abstains even from what is allowed
in order to attain to the proper sonship of God. Here the
dominant ecclesiastical way of thinking is brought into con
nection with a more general historical reflection. The moral
reflection itself keeps entirely upon the path of the previous
development, conditioned as it was by the fundamental error
which makes the attitude and conduct of the individual in
less or more elevated stages the basis of the relationship
to God.
Scholasticism starts from this presupposition; and it sets
itself to justify the ecclesiastical doctrine by the aid of the
pre-Christian philosophy, and to exhibit it in its systematic
connection. And the fundamental presupposition of Mysticism
was really the same, to whatever degree it may have appeared
to deviate from this path.
53. Ethics in the Beginning o f the Scholastic Period.l
Anselm stands at the head of the first period of Scholas

ticism, and he combines in himself the dialectical and the
mystical element. These two elements then become sepa
rated, and the former is represented by Abelard in his Ethics,
which he seeks to construct from the conscience, while the
1 Literature on Anselm : Hasse, Ans. v. Cant., 2 Bile., Lpz. 1843. Cremer,

Die Wurzeln des Ans. Satisfaktionsbegriffs. Stud. u. Krit. 1880, 1. A.
Ritschl, Rechtf. u. Vers., 2 Aufl. i. 31 if. Erdmann, Gesch. d. Philos, i., Berl.
1866, pp. 256 if. Jacobi, P. R .-E .2 i. 433 if.— On Abelard : Neander, Gescli.
der Ethik, p. 272. Bittcher, Ueber die Schriften, den philos. Standpunkt. u.
die Ethik des P. Ab. Ztsclir. f. liistor. Theol. 1870, 1, pp. 1-90 (the Ethics,
pp. 68-90). H . Reuter, Gesch. der Aufklarung im M .-A . i. pp. 183-259. Fr.
Nitzsch, P. R .-E .2 i. 6 if. Deutsch, P. A ., ein krit. Theol. des 12 Jahrh.,
Lpz. 1833. Gass, Gesch. d. Eth. i. 303 if. Theob. Ziegler, ii. 262 ff.— On
Bernard: Neander, Der. h. Bernh. u. s. Zeitalter, 3 Aufl., Goth. 1865. Plitt,
Bemhs. Anschauungen v. christl. Leben. Ztschr. fiir hist. Theol. 1862, 2,
pp. 164-238. Ders., Festpredigten des h. Bernh., ein Zeugniss fiir die evang.
Wahrheit aus der mittelalterl. K. Erl. 1860. H . Reuter, Brieger’s Ztschr.
f. hist. Theol. i. 36 if. A. Ritschl, Lesefriichte u. s. w. Stud. u. Krit. 1879.
Ders., Gesch. des Pietism, i. 46 ff. Preger, Gesch. d. deutschen Mystik im
Μ .-Δ ., Lpz. 1874, i. 218 ff. Jacobi, P. R .-E .2 ii. 324 ff. .
latter is represented by Bernard of Clairvaux, in whom the
mystical tendency of ethics and the monastic disposition of
the age is effectively embodied.
1. Anselm.
Scholasticism generally — at least in its first period —

represents the alliance between reason and revelation or the
doctrine of the Church; and the position which it occupied
was that the traditional dogma had to be systematically
elaborated and justified before the rational thinking. Anselm
o f Canterbury (t 1 1 09) marks the beginning of these scientific
efforts in an epoch-making manner, and with the youthful
joyousness of an unbroken and undoubting confidence.
According to Anselm, thinking and being coincide, since
all our thinking is preceded by the realities which our
thinking grasps in conceptions. This mode of thought is
undoubtedly of importance for the speculative comprehension
of dogma, but it is of less significance for the problems of
ethics. And, accordingly, Anselm composed no writings on
ethical subjects. His well-known theory of the doctrine of
the Atonement, views the death of Christ as the satisfaction
paid for the violation of the honour of God by sin, according
to the German idea and practice of right; but in this form,
and with the side of the subjective appropriation remaining
entirely undeveloped, it furnishes no material for a proper
moral grounding of the Christian conduct of life. Moreover,
Anselm's theory rests upon the usual view of works as going
beyond duty, and being therefore meritorious. Nevertheless,
it is based upon an earnest moral appreciation of sin and
guilt (“ nondum considerasti quanti ponderis sit peccatum ”) /
to which the evangelical accentuation of the Divine forgive
ness on account of Christ’s death corresponds.1 2 But this
1 Cur Deus homo, c. 21.

2 Cf. the Admonitio morienti, which even Chemnitz quotes in Ex. Cone. Trid.
(ed. Preuss, p. 1646). Credis quod propter te mortuus est dominus J. Chr.
filius Dei ? credis te non posse salvari nisi per mortem eius ? — Age ergo, dum
superest in te anima, in hac sola morte totam fiduciam tuam constitue, in nulla
alia re fiduciam habeas. Huic morti te totum committe, hac sola te totum
contege, hac morte te totum involve etc. Migne, 158, i. p. 686 f. So in
Meditat. 2, 3.
knowledge is not turned to right account, so as to give a
foundation for Christian morality. It is' directly accompanied
with the position that good works open heaven to u s ; 1 or that
it is our poenitentia which wipes away sins.2 And although
we find in the Meditations and .Prayers of Anselm the expres
sion of an Augustinian fervour and inwardness of devotion to
.God, which has for a long time -promoted the cultivation of
piety in the mystical sense, yet it is not so much the certainty
of the forgiveness of sin from which the relation of the love
of the Christian is derived, as the example of Christ’s humilia
tion and His voluntary surrender to death.3 And although
this mode of reflection has unquestionably a good right of its
own, yet this holds true only when it is taken in connection
with the other regulative thought. It is correct when Anselm
bases the question on the death of Christ: Et quis non amet
Christum dominum ? 4 He does not tire of celebrating the
sweetness of God and the dulcis Jesus;5 and how often this
has been echoed again in the ascetic literature of the later
Churches need hardly be mentioned. But it is above all the
humility of Christ in His incarnation, in the lowliness of His
life, and in His death of suffering which has made manifest
the divine love,6 which demands and produces love in return,
as is shown in the following of Christ.7 This Augustinian
thought dominates the subsequent times on various sides. It
is expressed both in an accentuation of the humanity of
Christ, which became regulative for the Western and Mediaeval
Church quite otherwise than it had been for the Greek and
Ancient Church, and in the fertile thought of the Following
1 Medit. v .: Videamus quo ordine bona opera animam illius qui bene vixit
ducant in coelum (Migne, i. p. 734 C).
2 Medit. vi. p. 737 D, 738 A : In vera confessione mundatur omnis macula
delicti.
3 Cf. the relevant sections in Cur Deus homo, and Medit. xi. p. 765 C, 766
A , B.
4 Medit. ix. In. 5 Especially in his Orationes.
6 Medit. xi. pp. 764-5.
7 Medit. xii. De humanitate Christi, p. 770 A, B, 771 A : Et certe nescio,
quia nec plene comprehendere valeo, unde hoc est, quod longe dulcior es in
corde diligentis te in eo quod caro es, quam in eo quod verbum ; dulcior in eo
quod humilis quam in eo quod sublimis.— Haec omnia formant et adaugent
magis ac magis exsultationem, fiduciam et consolationem, amorem et desiderium.
Cf. the accentuation of the example of Christ, M edit ix. De humanitate
Christi, pp. 750-1.
of Christ, or even tlie Imitation of Christ. And as the
cultivation and recommendation of mystical contemplation
became readily combined with this, Anselm likewise in this
connection lays stress upon the contemplative life in prefer
ence to the active life, and he brings into application for this
purpose the life of Mary as well as that of Jesus. For our
affectus should be twofold : affectus mentis and affectus operis.
The latter consists in virtutum exercitatione, and the former
in spiritualis gustus dulcedine. This blessedness of feeling
and love is described in detail and with enthusiasm.1 In
consequence, the moral worth and task of life in the world
retreats into the background, and the certainty of reconcilia
tion loses its moral significance. In short,' Anselm, notwith
standing his evangelical knowledge, also moves wholly in the
paths of the Mediaeval ideal of perfection. ·
The form of his piety otherwise corresponds to this ideal.
It is not the perfect righteousness of Christ to which the eye
of the soul is directed, and in which the Christian finds his
peace, in order that he may then move joyfully through the
tasks and duties of life ; but it is his own perfection, whether
it be of repentance, or of renunciation, or of love to God,
after which his always unstilled longing is directed in order
that by reaching this goal he may find peace, which, however,
is never won on this way. This makes his piety unsound
and unfit for solving the moral task. W e must so regard it,
for instance, when Anselm in his Orationes prays for the gift
of tears as a sign of the love of Christ, the fulfilment of which
he supplicates in words of urgent longing. He asks for tears,
whose fountain'does not go dry, in order that such tears may
be an evidence of the'love of Jesus to him and of the love of
his soul to Jesus.1 2 This is virtually making a sentimental
1 Medit. xv.-xvii. to his sister, p. 785 ff.

2 Orat. xv. p. 8 9 2 : Dulcis Christe, bone Jesu, sicut desidero, sicut tota
mente mea peto, da mihi amorem tuum sanctum et castum, qui me repleat,
teneat, totumque possideat. Et da mihi evidens signum amoris tui, irriguum
lacrimarum fontem jugiter manantem ut ipsae quoque lacrimae tui in me
testentur amorem, ipsae prodant, ipsae loquantur, quantum te diligit anima
mea, dum prae nimia dulcedine amoris tui nequit se a lacrimis continere, etc.
Also cf. e.g. Exhortatio ad contemptum temporalium, etc. p. 6 7 9 : sine
cessatione lacrimus funde j p. 6 80 : ora cum lacrimis indesinenter; p. 681 :
esto semper paratus ad lacrimas. Planctum et lacrimas nunquam deseras, etc.
state of feeling out of the moral attitude of the will in love.
This gift of tears plays, as is well known, a great part in the
description of the lofty state of Eoman Catholic piety. To
such a subjective state of feeling, the object to which it is
directed ultimately loses its significance, the principal thing
being the subjective state itself. Hence, along with the
most touching words of prayer in the expression of love
and the longing of love to God and Christ as the “ unique ”
love, we find that the most fervent prayers to the mother of
the Lord are also joined, and her name is described as “ the
sweetest food of his soul.” 1 Then the other saints are also
joined on to Mary.
This, however, is just the ascetic mood of mind which, in
denying the life in the world, takes away thereby from the
Christian life its God-given substantiality, in order to make
the immediate relationship to God the exclusive content of
life instead of that which ought to be its power. It is in
the latter sense, for instance, that the Apostle exhorts us to
pray without ceasing, whereas this piety, even in Anselm,
understands and interprets continuous prayer in such a way
that it ought to fill up the course of life, and to furnish its
material content in a real sense. He expresses such a view
in his “ Exhortation to contempt of the temporal and to
desire after the eternal,” 2 when he lays down the demand
that we must pray day and night without ceasing, with sigh
ing and weeping, with deprivation of sleep and of food, with
pale face, and with arid body, etc.3 But by the nature of
things this cannot be carried out. And thus on account of
the pauses and defects in this mode of conducting life, penance
must again be done with a continued increase of asceticism.
This contradicts itself and never leads to peace, because the
Christian life is not grounded upon the work of God in
Christ, but upon the work of the individual himself, although
this is apparently of great spiritual elevation. This mood
1 E.g. Orat. xlix. p. 948, or Orat. liv. p. 960 : Dulcis es in ore te laudan
tium, in corde te diligentium, in memoria te deprecantium etc.
2 Migne, l.c. p. 677.
8 E.g. l.c. p. 6 8 0 : Ora cum lacrimis inde sinenter, ora jugiter, insiste
orationi frequenter — geme semper et plange. Surge ad precem in nocte,
pernocta in oratione et prece — . Adime tibi et saturitatem panis — jejuniis
et abstinentiae intentus pallida ora gere, aridum porta corpus, etc.
and way of thinking ruled the whole of the following period.
Even Abelard’s divergence from the prevailing path altered
nothing essentially.
§ 54. Ethics in the Beginning o f the Scholastic Period.
2. Abelard.
Abelard (t 1142) gave prominence to the thought of the

revelation of the love of God in Christ towards us,, by which
our love is called forth in return; and he treated it as the
centre of the atonement,1 opposing this morally subjective
element in a one-sided way to the. religiously objective appre
hension of the doctrine of the Atonement by Anselm. But how
ever much the theology of Abelard makes the ethical element
the predominating point of view, yet his ethic is not deduced
from it, but stands unconnectedly beside it. Thus it 13 that
his large Ethica s. Liber dictus: scito teipsum,2 of which only
the first half was completed, is more a philosophico-theological
introduction, in a scholastic and dialetical method, to moral
philosophy than a Christian ethic in the proper sense. He
treats of the fundamental moral conceptions, and especially of
the nature of sin and its imputation. The sensible impulses
and inclinations themselves, the suggestio and even the
delectatio, are not sinful in themselves; they ought to be
ruled by reason. Sin arises only through the consent
(consensus); and so far virtue is not attained without conflict,
by which it becomes’ a merit. Accordingly, the essential
matter is not the external action, but the consent or the
intention. It is the motive (animi intentio) which makes an
action good or bad, moral or immoral ; 3 and it is the measure
Of moral knowledge which determines the degree of sin.
The deciding element is the disposition; and sin is what
takes place against conscience.4 With this he takes the
*1 Bernard of Clairv. in his Tractatus de erroribus Abselardi summarizes
Abelard’s doctrine in the following words: Totum esse quod Deus in carne
apparuit nostram, de verbo et exemplo ipsius institutionem, sive, ut postmodum
dicit, instructionem ; totum quod passus et mortuus est, suae erga nos caritatis
ostensionem vel commendationem.
' 2 Migne, pp. 634-678. 3 E.g. c. xi.
4 C. xiii. : Quod peccatum non est nisi contra conscientiam.
starting-point from the moral- subject as an individual and
his natural endowment. On the other hand, the objective
divine factor disappears; and in place of the, Christian starting-
point there comes in the lex naturalis which the heathen also
have,, and which contains love to God and justice towards our
neighbour.1 Christianity appears only as a restoration' and
purification of the lex naturalis. For, this moral law belongs
to the original equipment of human nature, is inalienable from
it and immutable, and is older than all supernatural revela
tion.2 Its commandments are everywhere the same. Hence
it is rightly regarded as the exhausting rule of all acting, as
a sufficient condition of salvation, and as the basis of all
historical religion. These are the fundamental thoughts
which are applied to the religion of the Old and Nevr
Testament in Abelard’s “ Dialogue between the Jew and the
Christian.” 3 This thought undoubtedly lies on the line of
the view, handed down from the Ancient Church and rooted
in the thoughts of the Stoics, that Christianity is t6 be
regarded as a renewal of the law of nature; but thereby
ethics is loosed from the dogmatic basis, and takes up an
independent position beside it.4 This was the consequence of
the setting aside of the primacy of faith for ethics in the
Ancient Church, and the parallelizing of “ faith and works.”
Abelard in making conscience the moral principle, and thus
taking his standpoint in natural ethics, recognises the
natural moral faculty. This leads him to see in heathenism
a series of idealized moral examples; and thereby he was led
to a complete misapprehension of what is specifically Christian.
“ According to Abelard, the Greek philosophers were not
only equal to the Christians in knowledge, but they excelled
them even in moral practice. Their life entirely corresponded
to the scientific ideal. As the ethics of Socrates and Plato
especially unfolded love to God, the highest good, as the
inmost motive of moral action, they were themselves also full
1 Dial, inter Philosophum, Judaeum et Christianum, M igne/pp. 1619-1627.
2 Naturali lege, quae et prima est, contentus sum.— Prima non solum tempore,
verum etiam natura.— Quae omnibus naturaliter inest ratio. Reuter, l.c. i.
198 f., 318 ff.
3 See on this in this detail, Reuter, l.c. 201 ff.
* Ziegler, p. 270. I d . : Ab’s. Ethica. Ein Beitrag zur Gesch. der Etliik, in the
“ Strassburger Abhandl. zur Philos.” 1884, 197-222. ·
of it.” 1 There thus remains ultimately for Christ and
Christianity no other glory than the popularizing of the
already existing esoteric truth and wisdom, to which the
life and conduct of the Christian humauity of .the present
does not at all correspond in the same degree as was the case
\vith the heads of those philosophic schools. Now if Abelard,
following Augustine, designates the love of God as the good,
because it corresponds to God, and sin as contempt of God,
this is neither a new Christian cognition nor even the con
sequence of a new operation of grace. But it is the self-will
from which not only sin but its converse proceeds. In this
sense he gave his ethics the title: Scito te ipsum; for all
moral judgment must proceed from self-knowledge, and the
intention is the deciding element. It was in conformity with
this accentuation of the “ intention ” as the deciding element
that he also required of the practice of confession that not
merely the action but the disposition must be taken into
account, and that the judicial judgment should be determined
accordingly. This was a criticism of the practice of confession
with which the ecclesiastical institution could not be made to
agree. For, .as we have seen, it was based entirely upon the
estimation of the individual action. But Abelard had far too
little singleness of moral character to be able to become the
moral teacher and moral preacher of his time, as he fain would
have been. In his doctrine of poenitentia, he likewise did not
advance beyond the idea of satisfaction by fasting, morti
fications, and alms.
Bernard of Clairvaux was not only a decided opponent of
Abelard and of his whole dialectical method, as fraught with
danger to the faith of the Church, but he also censured his
moral doctrine, and rightly so. For Abelard’s limitation of
sin to consent overlooks the significance of the habitual
direction of the w ill; and accordingly the Synod of Lens, in
1140 A.D., declared against him.
1 Reuter, l.c. 191. Seeberg, Die Yersohn. Lehre des Abal. etc. Mittheil. u.
Nachr. fur die ev. Kirche, in RusSl. Marz-Apr. 1888. Abdr. p. 19 f.
• * ^
§ 5 5 . Ethics in the Beginning o f the Scholastic Period.
3. The Mysticism o f Bernard o f Clairvaux.
Bernard o f Clairvaux (t 1153), Abelard’s great and

inexorable opponent, combined, as hardly any other has done,
mystical inwardness and ascetic austerity with influential
external activity. He who would have most gladly
had converse only with God in his quiet cell, entered
into the life of the Church more than any other of his con
temporaries, and moved the world. Monasticism was his
ideal, and the life of the monk was regarded by him as the
proper Christian life. Monastic mortification was in his view
the conflict of the spirit with the flesh, and flight from the
world seemed to him the only security. A ll this, however,
was not conceived by him in a merely external form, but
internally ; and the height of blessedness was to his mind the
transportation of the soul to heaven through the means of
contemplation. And yet this Mystic proved himself at the
same time to be a man of practice and action. He coun
selled and punished popes, and kindled peoples to enthusiasm
for the Crusades, while he also set himself to oppose with
word and pen the dangers which threatened the faith of the
Church, and its science from an arrogant dialectic. — His
treatise Be gratia et libero arbitrio is more of a dogmatic
nature, but for this very reason it lays down fundamental
principles. To ethics belong specially his Be consideratione ad
Papam Eugenium (in 5 Books); the tractate Be diligendo
Beo, and his 86 sermons on the first two chapters of
the Song of Solomon, besides less important treatises, as his
Be moribus et officio episcoporum ; Be conversione ad clericos;
Be gradibus humilitatis et superbice. The theology of pious
inwardness, that of contemplation as well as that of love, is
opposed by him to the dialectical method. Quid sit pietas
quaeris? vacare considerationi.1 For, tantum Deus cognos
citur quantum diligitur. Orando facilius quam disputando et
dignius Deus quaeritur et invenitur facilius.2 For it is
both in contemplation (the intuitus animi, in which considera-
1 De consider, i. 7. 2 Conclusion of the De consider, v. 14.
tion, consideratio, attains its goal) and in the affection of love
that the soul rises above the sphere of sense, so that it
experiences and enjoys the immediate nearness of God, like
the angels (more angelorum). The two sides of cognition and
will which afterwards are sundered in Thomas Aquinas and
Duns Scotus, still appear combined in Bernard. In both
cases, however, the advance to perfection is an operation of
grace, and yet also the proper life of the soul itself.
In his De gratia et libero arbitrio, Bernard seeks to combine
the two with each other. All is grace, and yet again it is
human merit; the free-will has nothing of itself, but every
thing only through grace.1 A ll is from G od; and all is grace;
yet the will must co-operate in virtue of the liberum arbitrium.
For to this we are created, this freedom from necessity, which
abides even where it is not liberty from sin (libertas a peccato)
and from misery (libertas a miseria). This liberty is only
where there is the willing of the good; and the willing of the
good presupposes grace. Grace effects both the willing of the
good and the ability to do it. But grace does not make us
blessed against our w ill; if God terrifies or agitates us, He
wishes to make free-willers out of us, so that we impel and
compel ourselves; and thus the free-willed' determination
combines with the divine will and becomes Gods fellow-
helper.2 Grace is prevenient in our case, in that it arouses,
alters, and strengthens the free-will, but what it has begun
the free-will must complete in combination with i t ; and the
two united bring the whole to pass.3 In this consensus the
meritum of man consists.4 Bernard must also find room
for such meritum. The whole thinking and practice of the
Church required it.
Bernard knew very well that God’s mercy is our merit, and
the forgiveness of sin is our righteousness. Perhaps no other
teacher of the Middle Ages has spoken so definitely to this
effect as he has done. A ll our righteousness before God is
only a filthy rag. “ It is only as justified through faith that
1 C. 14 : Crearis, sanaris, salvaris. Quid horum tibi ex te, o homo ? quid
horum non impossibile libero arbitrio ?— Qui fecit quod salvaret, etiam dat unde
salvet. Ipse, inquam, merita donat, qui fecit quibus donaret.
2 C. 13. 3 Cf. Plitt in the Ztschr. f. histor. Theol. 1862, p. 189.
' 4 De grat. et lib. arb. 14, 4 6 : Non quidem quod vel ipse consensus, in quo
omne meritum consistit, ab ipso sit.
we have peace with God.” “ Only those are righteous who
have obtained forgiveness of sins through God’s mercy.”
“ Freedom from sin is God’s righteousness; the righteousness
of man is God’s pardon.”,1 “ The mercy of the Lord is my
merit.” But with Bernard the honouring of the saints and of
Mary is combined with the unique righteousness of Christ,
and through their mediation the sinner draws near to Christ;
for as men they stand nearer sinful man. Moreover,
Bernard specially glorifies Mary, through whom we are
to have all things according to God’s will.2 The principal
thing is that Bernard, like Anselm, does not find, as is the
case with Luther, the way from that righteousness of the for
giveness of sin to the moral attitude of the Christian and the
normal relationship to the world and its affirmation. Libera
tion from guilt is not to Bernard also the means for liberation
from the power of sin ; but he would win this by means of
his own conduct in love, which, with all his mystical fervour,
does not deny the semi-Pelagian basis .of his whole Christian
order of life.
Hence it was that monasticism could also be to him the true
exhibition of Christianity. To him, as to the whole Church
of his age and for a long time thereafter, the monks were, in
contrast to the mass of other Christians, the perfect ones. It
is true that he conceives monasticism inwardly, that is to say,
not merely as a particular form of the outward life, but as a
task and exhibition of the inner disposition. For if sin is the
false self-will of man against God, whereby he has given him
self up to the world, which is the. sphere of the dominion of
1 E.g. In festo omnium Sanctorum, Sermo i. 11 : Quod potest omnis justitia

nostra coram Deo ? Nonne juxta prophetam velut pannus menstruata» reputa
bitur ? Et si districte judicetur, injusta invenietur omnis justitia nostra ?
Propterea tota humilitate ad misericordiam recurramus, quae sola potest salvare
animas nostras. In cantica sermo 22 : Qui suis pro peccatis compunctus esurit
et sitit justitiam, credat in te, qui justificas impium et solam justificatus per
fidem pacem habebit ad Deum.— Passio tua ultimum refugium, singulare reme
dium. Deficiente sapientia, justitia non sufficienti, sanctitatis succumbentibus
meritas, illa succurrit. Unde vera justitia nisi in Christi misericordia.— Soli
justi qui de eius misericordia veniam peccatorum consecuti sunt. 23. Non
peccare Dei justitia est, hominis justitia Dei indulgentia. 61. Meum meritum
miseratio domini. 68. Sufficit ad meritum scire, quod non sufficiant merita,
t 2 In nativ. Mar. 7 : Opus est enim mediatore ad mediatorem ipsum, nec alter
nobis utilior quam Maria.— Quid ad Mariam accedere trepidat humana fragilitas ?
the devil, then the relationship of right is the opposite of that
self-surrender and renunciation of the world which lives only
for God and His service. In the secular life (vita secularis)
this is not possible. Bernard is not able to appreciate properly
the moral relation involved in the fulfilment of man’s calling
in the world. In his view, the monks are upon the way
which leads to the heavenly Jerusalem. Thi& is the shortest
and easiest way, because it is lightened of the heavy burdens
of the world. To live in this way is to follow after the
Apostles. The apostolical life (the current phrase especially
of the later Middle Ages) does indeed indicate the task of all
Christians; but Bernard considers that it is exhibited only in
the monks. He never tires of pressing for the corresponding
disposition ; and humility is especially to him the first virtue
and the basis of all others, along with obedience. Now the
sphere for the exercise of this virtue is chiefly monasticism
and the rule of its order. It finds its fulfilment in the well-
known exercises of prayer, fasting, chastity, and poverty.
Here too, he presses for what is inward, but yet in the form
of external practices. Bernard was great and experienced
in prayer, and his directions for prayer thus contain much
that is good and beautiful. The fasting which goes along
with prayer is to him pre-eminently a fasting of the inner
man, abstinence from sin. Celibacy, however commendable it
is,— and it is apostolical life, and is compared to the life of the
angels,— ought not to be regarded by us merely as an external
work, nor should we boast of it. Nor has poverty any worth
if it is only external privation about which we sigh, but only
if it is voluntary according to Christ’s example. But not
withstanding all this internalization of the external order of
life, it is still the way of our own works to which Bernard
points as the means by which we may attain to the goal of
perfection. It is our own doing, however much it is inter
nalized ; and the ideal is not the fulfilment of man’s vocation
in the world in which God has placed us, while resting in
faith on the grace of God, but complete renunciation of the
world, which, however, he was not able himself to carry out,
as the reality of things and the tasks of life asserted their rights
over him.
This character of the renunciation of the world likewise
VOL. i. x
involves the double w ay1 which Bernard designates as the
way to the goal of perfection, namely, Love and Contemplation,
which he represents as standing in close connection and reci
procity with each other. In both of these, in consideratio and
its highest goal (the excessus contemplationis) as well as in the
affectus of love, the soul elevates itself above the sphere of
sense to the immediate nearness of God.
Bernard treats of love chiefly in his Be diligendo Beof and
his Sermons on the Song of Solomon are the Song of Songs of
love. God is in Himself the ground and cause of loving Him,
and of loving Him without measure.2 For God is Himself
love, and He is so towards all m en; and thus He deserves to
be loved by all.3 Bernard’s view is undoubtedly distinguished
from the mysticism of the Ancient Church as influenced by
Neo-Platonism, in that God is considered by him not merely
as the highest good in the sense of being, but as He who
becomes revealed in creation and redemption, and who is
active in love, and in whom man accordingly finds his goal.
Bernard would have this understood under the reward which
is assigned to love. God ought not indeed to be loved intuitu
praemii, but yet He is not loved sine praemio.4 Now love has
its stages upon which it advances to the goal of perfection.
There are four of these stages.5 The first stage is carnal love,
in virtue of which the natural man loves himself and cannot
help loving himself. On the second stage, man rises to the
love of G od; but this love is not selfless but selfish, as man is
brought by the sufferings and other experiences which God
sends him, to feel that he is and can do nothing without God,
yet that he is and can do everything in God. This stage is
thus still selfishness, only with the difference that the first
stage is blind selfishness, while this second stage is the
beginning of self-reflection. The repetition of this experience
1 Ep. 18. 2 : Duo animae bracilia, intellectus et amor, or cognitio et dilectio
veritatis.
2 De dilig. Deo, i. 1 : Vultis ergo a me audire, quare et quomodo diligendus
sit Deus ? Et ego : Causa diligendi Deum Deus e s t; modus sine modo diligere.
— W ith these words Bernard begins his treatise.
3 L.c. 2. 6 : Meretur ergo amari propter se ipsum Deus et ab infideli qui etsi
nesciat Christum, scit tamen se ipsum.— Clamat nempe intus ei innata et non
ignorata rationi justitia, quia ex toto se illum diligere debeat, cui se totum
debere non ignorat.
* L.c. 7. 17, 5 Cf. l.c. c. 8Lff. and c. 15.
now leads to his tasting the lovableness of God and thus
beginning to love God for the sake of God Himself, because
He is so friendly; and then he also loves all that is of God,
and consequently his neighbour. This is the third stage; but
neither upon this stage is love yet quite pure and selfless. It
is so only on the fourth stage, when the spirit, “ intoxicated by
the divine love, wholly forgets itself, becomes nothing in itself,·
and strives wholly up to God, attaches itself to Him, and
becomes one spirit with Him.” Then the Christians rejoice
no longer about their want being removed, or about the
happiness which is become theirs, but only because God’s will
is perfect in them.1 To be thus affected is to be deified.2
Blessed and holy is he to whom it has been vouchsafed to
have such an experience in this mortal life, although but
rarely, or even only once and for a moment. For to lose
thyself in a certain sense as being nothing, and to be almost
annihilated in thyself: this is heavenly life, and no mere
human state.8 Here again are echoed the old seductive notes
of the one only reality in contrast to which the creature is
nothing. Fellowship with God here ceases to be a personal
relationship of personality to personality, and therefore to be
a proper moral relationship; and it is conceived in a natural
istic way. Bernard elsewhere avoids these abysses of natural
mysticism ; yet they have not entirely lost the magic of their
attraction for him, although asserting themselves more strongly
in the later German mysticism. The reason lies in the deepest
want of his system; for although he knows the biblical justi
fication, it is not the basis of his moral reflection, but the moral
relationship to God is to him an act of self-elevation to God.
1 Cf. Plitt, l.c. p. 231 f. Ep. xi. 8. Migne, Bern. opp. i. p. 113 f.
* De dilig. Deo, 10. 28 : Sic affici deificari est. “ This expression, which is
frequently used by the later German Mystics, occurs in Bernard only in this
passsge. But in Ep. 107. 5 he speaks of divina illa et deifica visio of the future.”
Tlitt, l.c. 230, note 10.
8 L .c. 10. 2 7 : Felix qui meruit ad quartum usque pertingere, quatenus nec
se ipsum diligat homo nisi propter Deum.— Beatum dixerim et sanctum cui
tale aliquid in hoc mortali vita raro interdum aut vel semel et hoc ipsum raptim
atque unius vix momenti spatio experiri donatum est. Te enim quodammodo
perdere, tanquam qui non sis, et omnino non sentire te ipsum et a te ipso
exinaniri ac paene annullari, coelestis est conversationis non humanae affectionis.
This at once recalls Plotinus and the communication of Porphyry regarding his
experiences in ecstasy. Cf. my An tike Ethik, p. 181 f.
The work of the individual himself is thus the deciding
element also in Bernard’s view.
He comes to the same result on the other way of considera
tion. Bernard treats of it in his Be consideratione ad Papain
Eugenium. Man must begin with himself with self-know
ledge. As this is the beginning, so it is likewise the goal,
which is to know everything else in relation to oneself: tu
primus tibi, tu ultimus.1 To know oneself is wholesome
knowledge; for all progress in knowledge is connected in the
closest way with progress and sanctification. The proper
object of our knowledge is the supramundane G od ; for we
are created for it. Loving and knowing condition each other.
But God is our proper home. This cognitive consideration
has also its stages like love. From the consideration of the
sensible and temporal we advance to a consideration which
estimates and judges, by rising on the ladder of the works of
the creation to the knowledge of the Creator. The highest
stage is intuitive consideration, intuitus animi, or contempla
tion. Consideration here gathers itself into itself, and so far as
it is supported from above it withdraws itself from human
things in order to rise to the beholding of God.2 Man may
here experience this in individual ecstasies (excessus) as the
Apostle Paul formerly did, and in such a way that the soul
does not so much elevate itself, but rather is transported to
the heavenly world.3 The two ways of love and consideration
meet at this point. Here again the want of the proper moral
view reveals itself. For those experiences of which Paul
speaks of are not meant by him as stages in his life of
sanctification, but as special operations of God on the life of
his soul in which he experienced God as a power, in contrast
to which he was on his side purely passive. Such passive
experiences are here made momenta of the moral process ;
that is to say, the moral is conceived in a natural way, and is
consequently misunderstood.
The whole intercourse with God in loving and knowing is
1 Dc eonsid. ii. 3.
2 De eonsid. v. 2. 4 : Speculativa est consideratio se in se colligens, et
quantum divinitus adjuvatur, rebus humanis eximens ad contemplandum Deum.
3 L .c. 2. 3 : Ad hoc ultimum genus illos pertinere reor excessus Pauli.
Excessus non ascensus; nam raptum potius fuisse quam ascendisse ipse se
perhibet (2 Cor. xii. 1-4).
referred by Bernard to Christ; and it is therefore conceived
as conditioned even in its present existence by the historical
revelation of salvation. This mystical love-intercourse of the
soul with her bridegroom Christ, is celebrated by Bernard in
his reflections on the Song of Solomon after the example of
many predecessors,1 but with an influence that extended
wider, and was destined to last longer. But in his exposition
what is limited by historical conditions becomes an objective
thing which has its own laws regulating the inner processes
and moods of the soul. It was natural that this inwardness
would find satisfaction only when it left the whole world
behind itself, in order to be wholly merged in God in love ;
although Bernard also reminds us that in the rest and repose
of contemplation we ought not to forget the flowers with
which the bed of the bride ought to be decked, i.e. the flowers
of good works and the exercises of virtue.123 This amounts to
saying that Bernard does not deny the right of the vita
activa, but it is nevertheless only a subordinate companion of
the mistress, the vita contemplativa. This is the Mary who
has chosen the good part before the former, who is the
Martha. Here again we have the old negation of the world,
as we have already found it. Bernard indeed contributed to
make this negation of the world the presupposition and basis
of the government of the world by the Church of Borne; but
the condition is as little entitled as its consequence to be
regarded as correct.
§ 56. Ethics in the progress o f Mysticism?
The Mystics o f St. Victor.
While Hugo of St. Victor exercised an influence on

Bernard, Bichard and Walter of St. Victor, following him,
attached themselves to Bernard. Although adopting the
method of the scholastic distinctions, they cultivated the
1 See above on Gregory of Nyssa.

2 In Cant. 46. 5.
3 Liebner, Hugo v. St. Victor, Lpz. 1832. Preger, Gescb. der deutsclien
Mystik, i. 227 ff., 241 if. Zockler, P. R .-E .2vi. 356 ff. B. Engelhardt, Rich. v.
S. B. u. Job. Ruysbroek, Erl. 1838. E. Schmidt, P. R .-E .2 xii. 765 ff.
tendency to the inner intuition of God as the highest good,
and in this immediate relationship they found the highest
knowledge and blessedness; but from this position they found
no way that led to the tasks of man in the world.
1. Hugo o f St. Victor (t 1141), besides his earlier pre

dominantly mystical writings ( De arca m orali; De area
m ystica; De vanitate mundi, and his De substantia amoris),
embodied his scholastico - mystical theology chiefly in his
principal work, De sacramentis Christianas fidei, a section of
which he expanded in his beautiful treatise, De laude caritatis.
In Hugo the mystic often proceeds side by side with the
scholastic without their being mediated with each other.
The 12th and 13th Parts of his work, De sacramentis, treat of
the virtues and vices, and contain his ethics. In his view
love forms the centre of ethics. Self-love must be included
i:a the love of G od ; for the latter is not selfless, as no love is
without desire for the object loved. “ Hon amaris si non
desiderares ” He treats specially of this subject in the tractate
De laude caritatis, an enthusiastic laudation of love. “ If
this world is beautiful, how great do you think must the
beauty be where the Creator of the world is ? So love that
thou mayest live ; love wisely that thou mayest live blessedly ;
love God so that thou mayest live in the fellowship of G od;
and thus shalt thou live through love. But the more thou
lovest, thou desirest so much the sooner to come to the goal,
and thou hurriest to grasp it. Love, therefore, bids thee run ;
love makes thee grasp. And conversely, the more thou
lovest, the more eagerly dost thou embrace the object loved;
love therefore procures the enjoyment. See then how love is
thine all. Love is thy life, thy running, thy arriving, thy
abiding, thy blessedness. Wherefore love God ; live in God ;
run, seize, possess, and enjoy.” We have not here the
questionable metaphysics of love which we have elsewhere
met w ith ; this is only description of the inner state of the
soul. But on that very account the moral activity threatens
to disappear in the mood of enjoyment. Love is not rightly
founded on faith. Faith comes only into consideration as the
beginning of the “ renewal,” so that the stages of love or hope
are accessory to it. In other words, faith does not found the
relationship to God as the presupposition of the activity of
conduct; but the former is grounded by the latter, which
therefore seeks to come to its self-assurance by the greatest
possible elevation of itself, whether it be by the inner senti
ment of love, or by contemplative absorption in God, or
elevation to God. For Hugo, like Bernard, also teaches the
other way of contemplation, especially in his earlier pre
dominantly mystical writings. The soul raises itself on the
stages of cogitatio and meditatio to contemplatio. In the ark
of Noah, which is the Church, the soul rides over the billows
of the world and advances to God in order to rest blessedly in
Him. Hugo’s description of the contemplative process of
becoming one with God, the tasting of the Deity, and the
merging of the individual Ego in God, recalls the views of the
Areopagite, on whom Hugo wrote a commentary; and it
shows his influence, although without the pantheistic basis
of the older writings. The ascetic negation of the world,
although in different degrees of strength, always accompanies
this one-sided affirmation of God.
2. Richard o f St. Victor (t 117 3 ) gives this mysticism
more of the scholastic form of treatment by his distinction of
its several stages. Many of his writings of a moral and
mystical nature have been preserved. Among these we may
mention the following: De statu interioris hominis (treating
of vices and sins, and of contempt of the means against them,
namely, the divine instructions, threatenings, and promises,
with a section on the freedom of the will, i.e. its weakness
since the fall) ; De eruditione interioris hominis; De exter
minatione mali et promotione boni (on the improvement of
man, in which meditation and contemplation have their place
assigned to them). Passing over several small tractates,
we may further mention his De gratia contemplationis
(s. De arca mystica, s. Benjamin Major), in five Books; his
De preparations animi ad contemplationem (s. De duodecim
patriarchis, s. Benjamin Minor), an introduction to the
former w ork; De gradibus caritatis; and De amoris in-
superabilitate atgue insatiabilitate. Richard was the first to
construct on a psychological basis a detailed investigation of
contemplation accompanied with rich distinctions. Like Hugo,
he distinguishes it from the preceding stages of cogitatio and
meditatio. The former creeps; the latter walks; but con
templation flies aloft and poises itself even in the uppermost
regions. For it does not belong to imagination like the first
stage, nor to reason like the second, but to intelligence in
which the spirit unfolds itself to the immeasurable.1 Richard
subtly distinguishes the various kinds and stages of contem
plation, the highest of which is the contemplation of things
which are above reason, and which appear to be against it.
On this stage the human soul exults and jubilates, because by
the irradiation of the divine light it knows something against
which all human reason rises up, such as the mystery of the
Trinity.2 Now this contemplation is of a threefold nature,
enlargement (dilatatio), elevation (sublevatio), and finally the
ecstasy of the spirit (alienatio). This rapture arises either
on the height of devotion (devotio) when the spirit is wholly
seized by the fire of heavenly longing and the soul melts like
w a x ; or on the stage of high wonderment, when the soul,
illuminated by the divine light, is carried away with admira
tion of the highest beauty and is raised above itself; or in
high bliss (exaltatio),3 when the spirit, intoxicated with the
fulness of lovableness, wholly forgets itself, its past, present,
and future, and passes wholly out of itself in an excess of
pleasure and is enraptured. They are psychological states
which are here described, in which an immediate relationship
to God that is not mediated by the history of salvation or by
conformity to its order has to be experienced ; and therefore
states in which such an ecstatic soul is not able to find the way
from God to the world and to the task assigned by God in it.
This mysticism forms, in fact, the antithesis to the ecclesiastical
mechanism and to the external universal sovereignty of the
Church; but its opposition to these is also one-sided, and it
was therefore not able to overcome this confusion, but only
served as a basis for it, and thus lent it power.
3. While Hugo and Richard maintained mysticism always
in a certain relationship to scholasticism, Walther o f St. V ictor4
1 De gratia contempl. i. 3 : Contemplatio est libera mentis perspicacia, in
sapientise spectacula cum admiratione suspensa vel perspicat et liber animi
motus, in res perspiciendas usque quaque diffusus, Staudlin, iv. 437.
2 L.c. c. 6. Staudlin, l.c. 440.
3 De gratia contempl. v. 2, 5, 14, 16. Staudlin, iv. 443 f.
4 Planck, Tlieol. Stud. u. Krit. 1844, 4. *
( f 1180) marks the most thoroughgoing opposition to it. The
scholastic dialectic is in his view only of a formal nature, and
gives no help to material knowledge, but in attempting to do
this leads into manifold errors. He sought to show this in
the most violent indictments against Abelard and Peter of
Lombardy in his work Contra quattuor labyrinthos Gallia%
§ 57. The Ethics o f Scholasticism in the Beginning

o f its height.
The culminating period of Scholasticism and its Ethics

begins with Peter of Lombardy, who first successfully com
bines the dogmatico-ethical material in his Sentences in a
schematic form and into a whole, with the view of founding it
upon authority and at the same time justifying it in a metho
dical dialectic. To him is attached the further development
of Scholasticism and its more systematic treatment of ethics in
the Summas which were now elaborated, and in which Ethics,
as well as Dogmatics, concludes an alliance between Aristotle
and the received Christian views, especially as they were pre
sented in Augustine and Gregory the Great.
1. From the time o f Peter of Lombardy1 (.Petnts lombardus,

t 1164), Scholasticism combines Ethics with Dogmatics.
Petrus Lombardus treats the matter of ethics in various
places in the four Books o f his Sentences. In Book II. he
discusses the following subjects: De libertate, De virtute,
De peccato, De voluntate et eius fine, De vitiis capitalibus,
De peccatis in'spiritum sanctum; and in Book I I I .: De
virtutibus theologicis, De virtutibus cardinalibus, De septem
donis spiritus sancti, De connexione virtutum, De decem
mandatis, De legis et evangelii distantia. The ethical con
ceptions are rather logically analysed than developed in
principle. To him, as to Augustine, God is the ground and
goal of all things and of the moral life, and His fellowship
is therefore the objective Good for the subjective good will.
Virtue is, according to Aristotle, a condition of the soul
1 Staudlin, iv. 308 f. Wuttke, i. 129 if. Gass, i. 314 ff. Fr. Nitzscli,
P. R .-E .2 viii. 743 ff.
available for right living, which God produces in us, but
which likewise requires the proper movement of the mind
itself (motus mentis). Hence the presupposition of all moral
goodness is at the same time the freedom of the will, which
according to the customary division is Liberty 1. from
necessity, 2. from sin as power, and 3. from misery. The
first holds of man absolutely, including the sinful m an; the
second holds of the redeemed; and the third holds of the
perfected man. The first includes choice in itself; but
by sin the “ poterat peccare et non peccare” passed over
into the “ potest peccare et non potest non peccare;” the
second, through the assistance of grace, is liberty from the
supremacy of sin, but not from weakness; and hence the
redeemed man does not in fact commit deadly sins, but
venial sins. The third is liberty even from weakness, as the
non posse peccare. Virtue is the right condition of the
human will as directed to the good. Love to God is the
fundamental virtue and the mother of all the virtues. The
three fundamental virtues are faith, hope, and love: 1. Fides,
i.e. virtus qua creduntur qum non cernuntur; credere, deo,
deum, in deum ; the last being the true faith which leads to
good works; 2. Spes, i.e. virtus qua spiritualia et mterna
bona sperantur, i.e. cum fiducia expectantur; 3. Caritas, i.e.
dilectio qua diligitur deus propter se et proximus propter
deum vel in deo. Beside these, but brought little into rela
tion with them, there are the 4 Cardinal Virtues: justitia,
fortitudo (in suffering), prudentia, temperantia. Then follow
the 7 Gifts of the Holy Spirit (according to Isa. xi. 2, 3,
Vulg.), which may likewise be called virtues, namely, Wisdom,
Understanding, Counsel, Strength, Knowledge, Piety, Fear of
God. They go together and form a whole. Further, along
with these there is the distinction of the higher and lower
virtues, the consilia and praecepta. The commandments are
treated according to the two tables of the Decalogue as the
rules for the realization of love to God and love to our
neighbour. In contrast to the virtues stand the 7 principal
Vices, at the head of which is Superbia. Thus the attempt
is here made to combine into a whole the several parts which
had hitherto been the objects of ethical treatment. The
Sentences of the Lombard thus became .the basis of the
subsequent Scholasticism and its treatment of Ethics; and
Aristotle becomes then more closely combined with the
material handed down by Augustine and Gregory, just as he
was brought into relation with the Christian theology of
France through the Arabian and Jewish philosophy of Spain.
2. Alexander o f ITales,1 the Franciscan (t 1245), stands in
special connection with Hugo of St. Victor as well as with
Peter of Lombardy. In the third part of his Summa
theologice he treats, 1. of the Law of human conduct, the lex
seterna, ie. the divine will, viewing it not only as a lex indita,
s. naturalis, but also as a lex addita, s. scripta, in the form of
the Mosaic moral ceremonial and civil law and of the gospel
la w ; the latter being considered in its relation to the natural
and Mosaic law, as well as in its distinction into prsecepta (opera
necessitatis) and consilia (opera supererogationis). He then
treats, 2. of Grace and the Virtues as the co-operating powers
which fulfil the law ; and 3. of the Beatitudes or the fruits and
gifts of the virtues. Thus the treatment advances somewhat
after the scheme of the Doctrine of the law or of duties, the
Doctrine of virtue, and the Doctrine of happiness. The
fourth part, which treats of the Sacraments as means of Salva
tion, concludes with penitence and its forms of satisfactio, in
oratio, jejunium, eleemosyne. He seeks in the interest of the
mendicant monks to justify alms and evangelical poverty, as
well as to prove the meritoriousness of begging and the
superfluousness of labouring for the means of nourishment.
As to the rest, he is moderate in his mode of moral judgment
on practical questions, turning away from the primary severity
of his order; but in his form, as an adherent of the scholastic
method, he is at the same time strong in dialectical divisions.
3. Bonavcntura 2 (t 1274), a scholar of Alexander of Hales
and a member of his order, following Eichard of St. Victor,
composed numerous writings of a mystical and scholastic
nature and in a developed schematic form. In his Soli
loquium, influenced by Hugo, he says: The soul ought by a
look into itself to recognise its distortion by sin ; by a look
outwards, it should recognise the vanity of the world; by a
1 Staudlin, iv. 332 ff. Erdmann, Grundriss der Gesch. der Philos, i., Berl.
1866, p. 323 ff. Rettberg. P. R .-E .2 i. 262 ff.
2 Erdmann, l.c. p. 329 ff. Preger, i. 251 ff. Gass, P. R .-E .2 ii. 525 ff.
look below itself, it should recognise the punishment of un
blessedness ; and by a look above itself, it should recognise
the glory of blessedness in order to direct its desire away
from itself and the world entirely to God. In his Bicetce salutis
he shows how the soul in nine circuits or day-journeys (dioetie)
rises from the vices to repentance, from repentance to the
commandments, thence to the counsels (poverty, celibacy,
humility), to the virtues, to the seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit
(Isa. xi. 2), to the seven Beatitudes (Matt. v. 3 ff.), to the
twelve Fruits of the Holy Spirit (Gal. v. 22), thence to the judg
ment, and thence up to heaven. His Itinerarium mentis in Beum
sets forth how knowledge rises from the creature to God in
order to rest in God (quies, sopor pacis), in the Sabbath of the
sixfold labour-journey of life. Mention may be also made of
his Be septem itineribus aeternitatis (in which he follows Richard
of St. V ictor); Be septem gradibus contemplationis; Be institu
tione vitee ceternce ; Be contemptu seculi ; Be quattuor virtutibus
cardinalibus ; Pheretrce, a preparatory collection for the follow
ing two convenient summaries: Breviloquium (a short ex
position of the order of salvation combining the ecclesiastical
doctrine and Aristotle) and Centiloquium (the doctrine of
evil, its guilt and punishment, and the doctrine of the good
with its condition, which is grace, and its goal, which is
salvation, expounded in 100 sections). The goal of love is
also here immersion in God, excessus mentalis et mysticus,
exultatio, the enjoyment of heavenly j o y : and the goal of
knowledge is intuition of the pure being of the Deity. As
in the case of the Mystics of St. Victor, this mysticism con
tinued with all its inwardness on the line of the usual ethic
of the double morality and the higher stage of the consilia
evangelica. For that inwardness is elevation of the life
of the soul itself, and therefore founds the fellowship with
God upon the individual’s own conduct or state of m ind; and
tliis of necessity gives the distinctions of the ordinary and the
extraordinary in conduct.
4. Albertus Magnus,1 the Dominican (t 1280), embraced all
the knowledge of his time. In the second part of his Summa
1 Sigwart, Alb. M. Regsb. 1857. Wuttkc, i. 473, Anm. 52. Gass, i. 223,
and the Histories of Philosophy by Ritter, Erdmann, etc. Preger, Gcsch. der
deutschen Mystik, i. 263 if.
theologice he has treated the moral conceptions and put together
the materials of a doctrine of the virtues and vices which
Thomas Aquinas carried out in detail. Besides, he wrote a
Commentary on Aristotle’s Nicomachian Ethics, which was
edited by Thomas. He treats of the virtues in his work
entitled Paradisus anima:, s. Libellus de virtutibus, the virtutes
adjunctae (infusae) being distinguished from the cardinales
(acquisitae). Here, as well as in his treatise De adhaerendo
Deo} the ethic of asceticism and of contemplation is developed.
The true love of God consists in union with God without
thoughts of reward, and only from the impulse to perfection
and blessedness beyond the limits of nature. Eor while the
cardinal virtues regulate the natural life, perfection consists in
the supernatural life. Thus we have here again what is
characteristic of the Mediaeval and Roman reflection generally,
— these two spheres and stages connected with each other
without internal unity, namely, nature and an accessory super
nature, the antique and a completing Christianity. The same
also holds of the prince of Scholasticism, whom we have now
to consider.
§ 58. The Ethics o f Scholasticism at its height in Thomas

Aquinas}
Thomas Aquinas marks the culmination of Scholasticism

both in its theology generally and in its ethics. As his com
bination of Aristotle and Augustine embraces and concludes
the previous preparatory efforts in his system, he has become
a standard for the theology, and especially for the ethics of
the Roman Church, down to the present time.
1. Thomas Aquinas died in 1274 in his fiftieth year. Of
his works the .following belong to ethics: The Commentary on
Aristotle by his Magister Albert the Great, whose “ lecturam
studiose collegit et redegit,” and which forms a moral philosophy;
1 Staudlin, iv. 337-389. "Werner, Der heil. Thomas v. Aqu., Regsb. 1858,
ii. 469-619. Rietter, Die Moral des Th. Aqu., Miinch. 1858. Stockl, Gesch.
der Philos, des M .-A ., Mainz 1865, ii. 655 ff. Neander, Gesch. d. Ethik, p.
290. Landerer-Wagenmann, P. R .-E .2 xv. 570 ff. Wuttke, i. 131 ff. Gass,
i. 328 ff. Ziegler, i. 282-301. Eucken, Die Philos, des Th. v. Aqu. u. die
Cultur der Neuzeit, Halle 1866.
the ethical matter in his Scriptum in primum, secundum,, etc.,
sententiarum magistri Petri Lomb., at the relevant places;
among his Quaestiones disputatae there are several on ethical
subjects: Be malo, Be anima, Be veritate; and the ethical
matter in his Summa contra gentiles, a collection of the prin
cipal truths of Christianity. In this latter work, starting
from God, he shows that likeness to God and imitation of the
goodness of God is the moral task; the knowledge of God
is the highest goal; and the way to it is the law of God.
Several of his Opuscula, e.g. Be regimine principum ad regem
Cypri, also deal with moral matters. And above all, his
Summa belongs to this department.1
2. According to the prefixed arrangement, the first part of
the Summa treats De D e o ; the second part treats of Man,
De motu rationalis creaturae in D eum ; and the third part
treats of Christ, qui secundum quod homo via est nobis ten
dendi in Deum. The Prima secundae contains his discussion
of general ethics: De virtute in genere, treating of the final
end of m an; of the nature of human actions and states, and
of their internal principles, i.e. of human liberty as the pre
liminary condition of morality, of the moral powers, and the
states of the w ill; and then of the external principles of Law
and Grace. The Secunda secundae contains his special ethics,
and treats De virtutibus in specie, i.e. of the theological and
cardinal virtues, the virtues of particular classes and callings,
and of the gifts of grace, commandments, and moral opposi
tions corresponding to individual virtues. The work thus far
is therefore essentially an ethic or doctrine of virtue; and the
whole rests more than is the case with the other scholastics
on Aristotle, with whom Augustine mainly is combined.
3. Following Aristotle, Thomas Aquinas starts from the
ultimate end: ultimus finis humanae vitae ponitur esse beati-
tudo; 1
2 for beatitudo habet rationem ultimi finis. Man, how-
1 On its method of arrangement see i. qu. 2 : Quia principalis intentio huius

sacrae doctrinae est Dei cognitionem tradere et non solum secundum quod in se
’est sed etiam secundum quod est principium rerum et finis earum et specialiter
rationalis creaturae— ad huius doctrinae expositionem intendentes primo tracta
bimus de Deo, secundo de motu rationalis creaturae in Deum, tertio de Christo,
qui secundum quod homo via est nobis tendendi in Deum.
2 With reference to Aristotle’s Nicom. Ethics (»Ιώαιμονί*), and to Boethius,
cf. Summa, i. 1, Qu. 3, A. 2.
ever,. finds this happiness in God, and particularly in the
visio Dei, and therefore in assimilatio ad Deum more through
the intellect than through the will.1 For as God is the
ultimate origin of all being, He is also its ultimate end, and
consequently also the ultimate end of man. For God is the
absolute being (sicut suum intelligere est suum esse, ita
suum esse est suum velle); and He is likewise the absolute
good according to the substantial rather than the purely
ethical conception of the idea of the good,2 and the highest
good : res omnes in Deum sicut in ultimum finem tendunt,
ut ipsius bonitatem consequantur;3 and this holds also of
man.
4. Through what activity does man gain this highest good ?
The characteristic distinction of man is his liberty. Thomas
Aquinas enters on investigations regarding free-will and un
freedom wholly after the example of Aristotle. It is the con
ception of formal freedom in which the principle of action in
man lies, combined with knowledge as the regulative element,
so that Thomas Aquinas, following Aristotle and the Greek
Church (and in distinction from Duns Scotus), asserts the
primacy of knowledge in opposition to the will. This know
ledge, however, has its goal in God as the object of fruitio, in
so far as God is the ultimate end in distinction from all else
which is only an object of usus, because only a means,—
according to the common and always returning distinction
between frui and uti, which had been current since Augustine.
Along with the knowledge, and the will as determined by it,
the πάθη, passiones, come into consideration, and they ought
to be governed by knowledge. The passions are regarded by
him as indifferent in themselves— in opposition to the view of
the Stoics. They receive by their relation to knowledge their
moral quality. They are love and hate, desire and aversion,
hope and despair, fear and boldness, anger, joy, and sorrow.
Of these, hope and fear, joy and sorrow are the most essential,
and they are treated by Thomas very specially along with the
others.
By the dominion of the will over the passions, as deter-
1 Summa, l.c. art. 4, 5.
2 According to the views of Plato and Augustine.
3 Cf. Aristotle’s view : The Deity is the axUnvav πάντα χινοΖγ.
mined by knowledge, habit (habitus) is formed, i.e. the abiding
quality, which is not merely potentiality or possibility, but
capability and dexterity. Habit is partly acquired through a
series of self-repeating actions,1 and partly infused through
the immediate activity of God. This distinction determines
the classes of the virtues. Virtue is the habitus of the soul
by which it becomes capable of the corresponding good acting:
bona qualitas mentis, qua recte vivitur, qua nullus male utitur.
But with Augustine he distinguishes infused virtue: quam
Deus in nobis sine nobis operatur, from acquired virtue, which
is non sine nobis.
5. There are three Classes o f Virtues : the moral virtue
the intellectual virtues, and the theological virtues, each suc
ceeding class standing higher than the preceding. The dis
tinction between the moral and the intellectual virtues rests
upon the Aristotelian distinction between the ethical and the
dianoiitic virtues, of which the former are acquired by practice,
and the latter on the way of knowledge, the latter standing
higher than the former. This is only in its own way another
form of the much discussed question whether the active or
the contemplative life stands higher.
The intellectual character of the Greek moral philosophy
put knowledge above action; and it sees the ideal in the
philosopher, and therefore the higher virtues in the intellectual
or dianoetic class. This view, as we have seen, was com
municated to the Greek Church; and contemplative monas-
tieism then appeared as the higher stage of life. The Western
mind was of itself more disposed to action. Virtutis laus
ornnis in actione consistit, says Cicero. But through the
influence of the Greek way of thinking, the high estimation of
knowledge had also soon come to take precedence of this view.
The ultimate goal and the highest blessedness is the beholding
of God, the visio beatifica,— a goal which falls purely within
the other world. The moral virtues again, which pertain to
the faculty of desire, and are gained by exercise and habit,
1 So Aristotle says that Virtue is realized by exercise and habit, against

which view Luther polemises as sharply as against Pelagianism, on the ground
that it is not the person that is determined by the work, but the work that is
determined by the person; and for that reason he called Thomas Aquinas a
vessel of wrath.
are the four well-known cardinal virtues : 1. prudence, which,
as distinguished from the subsequent wisdom, is not the mis
tress, but the handmaid of morality, and does not furnish the
end, but the means for the end of practical reason ; 2. next
justice, which gives the order of reason in the activity that is
directed outwards; 3. then moderation, which has reference
to the passions, and is partly restraining; and, 4. fortitude,
which is partly inciting, and the highest stage of which is
martyrdom. Under these four virtues the several Christian
modes of action are arranged. Thus, for instance, the activity
of religion and of worship on the one side, and that of neigh
bourly love upon the other, are arranged under justice. The
intellectual virtues are primarily the three following: intel
lectus, scientia, sapientia, to which are then adjoined art (ars)
and prudence (prudentia), being the five ways of Aristotle
which lead to truth, namely, νους, έτηστήμη, σοφία, τέχνη,
φρόνησις.
6. The highest virtues are the three theological virtues,
which tend to the supernatural goal, and are therefore of a
transcendent nature, being the properly divine infused virtues
of Faith, Hope, and Love. — Faith is a virtue so far as the
supernatural (incomprehensible to the natural man) is an
object of cognition. Hope is a virtue as a thing of the will, so
far as the supernatural goal appears to be attainable, and is
striven after. Love is a virtue so far as the will unites itself
with the object, and thereby the individual assumes in a
certain measure the nature of the desired object and makes
himself like to God. Love is thus the first and highest
virtue in dignity, but the last to arise in tim e; it presupposes
the others, and it also includes the moral virtues in itself.
This reminds us of Augustine, but is yet different from his
view. For, according to Augustine, love is the principle of
all the virtues, and these are only its unfoldings (virtus est
ordo amoris), so that the four philosophical virtues are thereby
raised to Christian virtues, whereas Thomas Aquinas regards
them as the preliminary stages of the Christian virtues.
Augustine strove to effect a transformation of the ancient way
of thinking through the spirit of Christianity; in Thomas
Aquinas, Christianity is joined on externally to the ancient
way of thinking, and as it were only adds the higher
vol. i. X '
stages of the supernatural to it as the pre-Christian and natural
stage.
7. The common character of the virtues, according to
Thomas Aquinas, who follows Aristotle, is formally to be the
mean between extremes: in medio virtus. In the third
class of the virtues there is only the natural measure in the
possibility of divine communication. Now these virtues form
an advancing approximation to the highest goal, an ascending
pyramid whose point is love, so that the preceding stages may
be without this last and highest stage. The Gifts o f the Spirit
aid the effectuation of the virtues. These gifts, according to
Isa. xi., are seven in number: intellect, counsel, wisdom,
science, piety, strength, and fear. They are abiding states,
which are not kept clearly separated from the virtues. The
Beatitudes mark the blessing of the virtues (Matt. v.). They
are eight in number; but Thomas does not succeed in giving
this traditional material an internal relationship and a neces
sary position in the w hole; and, in fact, they are only briefly
treated.
8. Evil forms the opposite of the good; sin is the opposite
of virtuous action; and vice is the opposite of moral stedfast-
ness. According to the pleasure felt in them, sins are either
carnal or spiritual; and according to their guilt and punish
ableness they are venial or mortal sins. Venialia peccata
are constituted by turning away to the finite without any
conscious and willed turning away from God ; they are prceter,
not contra ordinem caritatis, and are visited with finite punish
ments here and in purgatory. Mortalia peccata are constituted
by conscious and willed turning away from God, contra
ordinem caritatis, c.g. such sins against the love of God as
blasphemy and perjury, and such against the love of our
neighbour as murder and adultery ; and they are punished
with eternal punishments. The gravity of the guilt is
measured by the importance of the object or end, by the
motives of the act, and by the opposition to virtue. The
greater the virtue, so much the greater also is the sin which
is directly opposed to it. The greater or less intensity of the
will, as well as the circumstances and the greatness of the
injury effected by sin, exercise an influence upon its gravity
according to the juristic mode of consideration of the Boman
ethics. Among the other different kinds of sin, the principal
sins (peccata capitalia) are specially made prominent. There
are seven of them, or eight if cenodoxia (vainglory) is
included.
9. The norm of the moral life is the Law : the natural and
human law (lex naturalis), which is the moral law written on
the heart, and the divine law; both that of the Old Testament,
which sets forth an earthly goal and righteousness of works
and has the motive of fear, and that of the New Testament,
which has a heavenly goal, which demands holiness of dis
position, and whose motive is love (lex caritatis according to
the old ecclesiastical usage).
Higher than the fulfilment of the Law stand the Consilia
which form a speciality of the New Testament law of liberty
(lex libertatis) in distinction from the Old Testament law of
slavery. These Consilia aim at delivering man as far as
possible from the enjoyment of the earthly, which is not pro
hibited in itself; and they thus further his coming to the
heavenly. They especially include Poverty, Celibacy, and
Obedience (obedientiie servitus), which forms a more advisable
way, because it leads more surely to the goal; and to these
three counsels all the others as well as all the kinds of ascetic
practice are to be reduced. For the earthly and the heavenly
life properly exclude each other. Now man is placed between
the tw o ; he is put into the earthly life, and yet destined for
the heavenly life. The more he turns himself to the one,
the more does he turn himself away from the other.1 Usually
no more is desired from mail than that he also strive after the
eternal life. This is the way of the commandments, and it is
prescribed to all. In it grace is compatible with nature, and
the heavenly life with the earthly life. By this way one may
become blessed. But it is safer if one strives not merely also
but only after the eternal life, when consequently grace over
comes nature and the heavenly life swallows up the earthly
life. This cannot be commanded, but can only be advised.
1 Summa, ii. 1, qu. 108, a. 4 : Est autem homo constitutus inter res mundi et
spiritualia bona, in quibus aeterna beatitudo consistit, ita quod quando plus
inhaeret uni eorum, tanto plus recedet ab altero et e converso.— Expeditius
perveniet (ad beatitudinem) totaliter bona mundi abdicando et ideo de hoc
dantur consilia evangelii.
This is therefore the ethics of the Consilia evangelica. The
higher perfection of the moral law of Jesus Christ is therefore
fundamentally limited to this. Now as these Consilia evan
gelica are not for all,— for otherwise the whole earthly life
would cease,— consequently Christianity in its perfection is
only for a small circle of elect persons: a view which com
pletely reproduces the position of the ancient aristocratism,
whereas the moral ideal ought to be a universal obligation, and
the highest goal should be set before all. It is the positive
conception of Christianity according to the doctrine of works
which corrupts its ethics in principle.1
The view of Ethics just indicated is expounded by Thomas
Aquinas in detail in his treatise De perfectione vitee spiritualis?
The perfection of the evangelical counsels which come as
auxiliary to love to God is renunciation of temporal things,
and particularly at first renunciation of earthly goods, accord
ing to Matt. xix. 21.3 There next follows renunciation of
the bodily passions and marriage, according to Luke xiv. 26
and 1 Cor. vii. 32, in which passages the apostolical expres
sions “ flesh,” “ law of the flesh,” and such like, are always
referred to the sensuous nature of man. The moral opposition
of Scripture between spirit and flesh is, therefore, transposed
into a physical opposition, after the example of the expiring
moral philosophy of antiquity. And, in the third place, there
is the renunciation of our own will according to Gal. iii. 20,
Col. iii. 3, and similar passages. These three ways of perfec
tion, however, are represented as pertaining to the status
religionis, i.e. monasticism and its threefold vow. Along
with these counsels which relate to the love of God there
are the others which bear upon the love of our neighbour.
To them belongs the love of enemies,4— a counsel which
passes above the perfectio communis and is not a command
ment of the L ord; for, according to Augustine, it pertains to
the perfect Son of God, and not to the multitude. This ethic
thus puts itself into variance with the commandment of the
»
1 Cf. Luthardt’s Ethik Luthers, p. 76 ff.
2 Opp. Venet. t. xix. p. 392 ff.
3 Utilius est ad vitam aeternam consequendam divitias abdicare quam eas
possidere, l.c. c. 7.
4 L .c. c. 14. *
Lord in Matt. vi. 44.1 To this state of perfection in the
monk the said treatise joins the perfection of the episcopal
and papal class, which need not be here further dealt with. It
suffices to see how that here a greater or less moral worth is
attributed to an external position in life, and that this is a
manifest falling back from the Christian stage on which the
moral is apprehended as personal, upon the pre-Christian and
lower stages, which confound it with the sphere of external
things.
The dualism and asceticism of this whole way of thinking
have been already discussed. It erects a wall between the
world and Christianity, and thereby makes the fulfilment of
the universal calling of Christianity impossible. This limit
was not set aside until the Reformation, which overcame it by
its apprehension of what is Christian as no longer conditioned
by external things, but as personal. The dualism and
asceticism in question are shown, for instance, in the treat
ment of temperantia. For with it is co-ordinated the ex
planation of fastin g; and fasting is justified by its final
relation to concupiscentia, contemplatio, and satisfactio.
Virginity is put higher than marriage, and martyrdom and
monachism higher than virginity.
10. In his doctrine of justice, Thomas Aquinas, following
Aristotle, divides justice into distributiva and commutativa.
The whole of the then current conceptions of right and wrong,
trade and conduct, politics and national economy, are received
into his doctrine. The rightness of the punishment of death, of
necessary defence, and of necessary theft, is established, in the
same way as is still done in the morality of the present
Romish Church. The moral justification of trade is explained,
and it is limited to the procurement of the bonum commune
in contrast to the purpose of the individual’s own advantage.
In accordance with the canon law, the taking of interest
is declared to be usury, and is therefore pronounced to be
1 Altogether there are reckoned twelve Counsels. In addition to the first
three referred to and the love of our enemies, there are, superfluous alms,
abstinence from taking an oath (t.e. “ without need” ), avoiding offences,
beginning and completing all work well to the honour of God, agreement of
action with doctrine so as not to be a hypocrite, avoiding unnecessary cares,
brotherly admonition. It is evident that these are purely Christian duties, and
not mere optional Counsels.
wrong. It immediately follows that the possibility of trading
and of the business life is thereby virtually negatived, and the
whole of the life in the “ world ” is compelled to take its
standpoint outside of Christian morality. The presupposition
which lies at the basis of the explanations in question is the
old “ natural right ” of the Stoics as to the community of
earthly goods, a view which had passed into the ecclesiastical
thinking o f the Middle A g es: only it is modified thus far,
that God is regarded as primarily the possessor of all earthly
goods.1 Accordingly, everything is common according to
natural right; but without annulling this right, human
reason, in accordance with positive law and on various grounds,
lias added the right of distinctive private property.1 23 Yet
community forms the basis of the whole, and the duty of
communication is a consequence of it. This fundamental
community asserts itself in the so-called necessary theft. For,
in a case of necessity, the community of natural right comes
into view ; s or, in other words, a legal right of appropriation is
made out of the moral duty of communicativeness, which,
however, is very two-sided, and certainly corresponds to the
Komish confounding of morality and right. The same error
also rules the discussion of the question of taking interest.4
The moral obligation to come to the help of the needy or to
another with one’s own in an unselfish way, here becomes a
legal precept or commandment which forbids the business life
to appropriate its own product in the special sphere of money.
This view arose from a misunderstanding of several expressions
in Scripture, and was grounded upon an erroneous view of
Aristotle.
11. In the discussion of the morality of the several classes
Thomas Aquinas attaches himself to the mode of thinking
which had developed itself under the influences of the ancient
philosophy in the Church, and with express reference to
Aristotle. The contemplative life with its ecstasies, because
it is immediately directed to God, is put above the active
life as that which is directed to our neighbour. Mary
1 Summa, ii. 2, qu. 66, a. 1.

8 L.c. a. 2 : Secundum jus naturale non est distinctio possessionum, sed]
magis secundum humanum condictum quod pertinet ad jus positivum, etc.
3 L.c. a. 7 : In necessitate sunt omnia communia, etc. 4 L.c. qu. 78.
is put before Martha as more meritorious.1 The Status
perfectionis is designated as that of the religions persons or
monks and of the bishops, the latter point being a concession
to the hierarchy. The Consilia evangelica are exhibited in
the three monastic vows, and among the monks, corresponding
to the primacy of knowledge; and to them the prerogative of
the contemplative life is assigned. Thomas does not treat of
the other classes, but to him they constitute only the non
clerical world.
12. He treats of the State both in a commentary on the
first three books of Aristotle’s politics,2 and in his Summa, as
well as in the special treatise Be regimine principiem in four
Books,3 the first two books of which at least are ascribed to
him.4 His doctrine is the characteristic form of the Roman
Catholic view, and it is still interesting for our time. As the
members of the body form a unity only through subjection
under one head organ, as the faculties of the soul form a
unity only through subordination under reason, and as the
parts of the world form a unity only through subordination
under God, so the unity of the State (for which man shows him
self to be destined by his helplessness, his social impulse, and his
faculty of language) only becomes possible through subordina
tion under a governing head. Hence monarchy is the best
constitution, and the end of the State is to be helpful to the
citizens in the attaining of their highest goal, which is blessed
ness. The proper caring for this, however, because it has
been assigned to Christ, is also assigned to His representative
or vicar. The States and princes are therefore subordinated
to him, and have to fulfil their proximate calling in depend
ence on him, that is to say, they have thus to care for the
preservation of peace, etc. But if the prince violates that
highest function, the pope has the right to release his subjects
from their oath. The sin of heresy deserves the punishment
of death. A prince who falls away from the true faith
1 Summa, ii. 2, qu. 182, a. 2 : Deum diligere secundum se est magis meritorium
quam diligere proximum. Vita autem contemplativa directe et immediate
pertinet ad dilectionem Dei, vita autem activa directius ordinatur ad dilectionem
proximi. Ideo ex suo genere contemplativa vita est majoris meriti quam activa.
2 The first three Books by Thomas. * T. xix. p. 486 ff.
* Baumann, Die Staatslehre des h. Th. v. Aqu. 1873. On what follows, cf.
Erdmann, l.c. 371 f.
thereby loses his right of dominion over his subjects. As
soon as a ruler is excommunicated on account of apostasy, his
subjects are thereby at once freed from his dominion and
their oath of fidelity.1 The proposition Of Thomas Aquinas,
that the people, as the proper possessor of the power of the
State, may depose a tyrannical prince, although not kill him,
is a reminiscence of antiquity, and it is found, for instance,
even in Origen.2 The doctrine of the Jesuits added to this
position a right of revolution.
13. As Thomas justifies the subordination of the State to
the Church in the sense of the well-known papal claims, he
has also become the representative of the papal power in the
Church as specially exhibited in the authority of the pope to
apply the treasure of supra-meritorious works to individuals in
indulgences, on the ground of the mystical unity of the body
of Christ. He thereby founded a theory, the practice of
which has constantly led to the utmost externalization of the
religious and moral life. The speculation and mysticism of
this system also became subservient to the mechanism which
had mastered the whole ecclesiastical sphere. It is in this
that the intellectualism which forms the starting-point of this
whole system of ethics finally issues.
14. If we now take a view of the whole system, we shall
be compelled to confess that the thoughts which are here
presented are not specially new, nor peculiar to its author,
but that it is only the products of previous thinking which
have been here systematically put together. Thomas
Aquinas stands in the closest connection with the scientific
tradition. He has only the prerogative of the systematic
thinker, although in a predominantly schematic form. But
1 Summa, ii. 2, qu. 12 : Apostatse a fide sunt excommunicati, sicut et haeretici.
Ergo principibus apostantibus a fide non est obediendum.
2 Baumann, l.c . pp. 23 if., 141. De regim. princ. i. 6 : Videtur autem magis
contra tyrannorum saevitiam non privata praesumptione aliquorum, sed
auctoritate publica procedendum. Primo quidem, si ad jus multitudinis ali
cuius pertineat sibi providere de rege, non injuste ab eadem rex institutus potest
destrui vel refrenari eius potestas, si potestate regia tyrannice abutatur. Nec
putanda est talis multitudo infideliter agere tyrannum destituens, etiamsi eidem
in perpetuo se antea subjecerat, quia hoc ipse meruit, etc. Thomas refers to
the expulsion of Tarquin by the Romans and similar facts in support of his
position. Yet he adds, when human help is not available men should turn
to God for aid.
in this richly organized scheme there are a great number of
particular questions discussed and decided; and even the
most special details are taken up into the framework of the
consideration of principles with a great power of logical
thinking. But as regards the whole moral view itself, it is in
accordance with the external relationship in which natura and
gratia stand to one another in the Bomish system, that the
Christian element appears only as a higher storey of the
building which is reared upon the basis of Aristotle, and that
it stands to a considerable degree unrelated to i t ; and thus
the old errors of a one-sided intellectualism and of a double
morality, etc., are propagated unchanged. Nor could these
errors be overcome, as the deciding knowledge of the right
eousness of faith was wanting.
The doctrine of Thomas Aquinas became of canonical
authority for the Western Church soon after his death; and
but lately it was proclaimed from Nome as the standard of
science in the Roman Church, and recommended as the saving
of society. Even the popular instruction in morality as it
is contained in the Catechisms of the Church of Nome is
essentially a popularization of the doctrine of Thomas
Aquinas.
15. Thomists. — While William o f P a ris1 (t c. 1249),
in his treatises Do virtutibus and Do moribus, rejected the
Aristotelian and Thomist definition of virtue as the mean,
because it would be thereby dependent on its opposite, the
Dominican, William Porault2 (Peraldus), a contemporary of
Thomas Aquinas, attached himself to him as his follower.
He expounds his doctrine in his Summa, s. tractatus de
virtutibus et vitiis. I. De virtute generatim, De virtutibus
theologicis, De virtutibus cardinalibus, De donis spiritus
sancti, De beatitudinibus. II. De vitio in genere, De septem
vitiis capitalibus, De peccato linguai. This work was much
used. It is more practical than dialectical, starting from the
theological virtues and descending gradually. In distinction
from the superstructure of the infused virtues, the cardinal
virtues form the moral substructure, as they are themselves
1 Cf. Gass, i. 358 if., who follows Neander.
2 Staudlin, iv. 390 f. Extracts from Perault in Schrockh, Kirchcngesch.’
xix. 289-309.
rooted in the powers of the soul. The vices are described
individually in vivid detail.— The later Speculum morale,
belonging to the fourteenth century, is almost wholly
excerpted from the works of Thomas Aquinas. It is a
sketch of morality illustrated by examples. It groups and
describes the relative vices around the seven principal vices,
and in order to terrify from sin the future punishments
awaiting it are brought to view : recordare novissima tua et
non peccabis.— Antoninus, Archbishop of Florence (t 1459),
wrote a much used Summa theologica in quattuor partes
distributa. It is very like the Secunda of Thomas Aquinas,
only more popular in its exposition. Its four parts treat—
(1 ) of the principles of moral theology or of the human soul,
and its faculties and laws ; (2) of the vices, i.e. the seven
principal vices, with, as the eighth, cenodoxia; (3) of the
different classes and conditions of men and the obligations
arising therefrom, together with much juristic and casuistic
matter by which the view is turned from the exclusively
deciding significance of the disposition to the external
action ; (4) of the virtues and gifts. The whole work
presents a carefully elaborated morality of the different
classes of men founded upon practice, active works, merit,
obedience, and indulgence ; and it forms a contribution to an
empirical and practical treatment of the subject.1
§ 59. Ethics in the Beginning o f the Dissolution o f

Scholasticism.
Duns Scotus and others.
With Duns Scotus begins the dissolution of the alliance

between theology and philosophy upon which the formal
system of Thomas Aquinas rests. W ith this new beginning
there also falls away the rational necessity of the ecclesi
astical doctrine as founded in the essence of God and man,
the demonstration of which Thomas Aquinas had taken
as his task ; and in place of that rational necessity there
comes into ethics the idea of liberty in the sense of indeter-
1 Gass, i. 381.
minism, and in opposition thereto the idea of the authority
of the Church. Duns Scotus puts the primacy of the will
in the place of the primacy of knowledge; and the conception
of blessedness is consequently determined otherwise by him
than by Thomas Aquinas, it being regarded not so much as
a blessed vision of God, but rather as the disappearing of the
will in the union of love with God as it rises to ecstasy.
This view was especially cultivated in the Franciscan order.
1. The theology of Duns Scotus1 (t 1308) is not ruled by

the idea of the highest being, or of internal necessity, but by
the idea of the will, or of liberty taken in the sense of acting
at pleasure. Philosophy, in fact, is of a theoretical nature,
whereas theology is practical, so that the two fall asunder.
What is true for each of them is consequently also distinct,
and thus the contrast between the philosophi and the catholici
is often found in Duns Scotus. Now, if the will is likewise
the highest principle in God, faith has to recognise this will
of God specially in His revelation. The Church, however,
is the possessor of revelation. Consequently the ecclesi
astical authority is the ultimate foundation, and hence the
basis of ethics is recognition of the order of the Church.
But as the will is highest in God, it is also so in m an:
voluntas est superior intellectu. The two, indeed, are com
bined in the soul unitM ; but Scotus combats the view of
Thomas Aquinas, who, holding that the intellect is superior
in consequence of the development of moral philosophy from
Socrates, also taught that the will must follow the thinking
and choose what reason represents to it as good. The will
can determine itself quite apart from and even against the
precept of reason ; nay, the thinking often follows the will
instead of conversely. Duns Scotus thus represents willing
as entirely undetermined; the will is liberum arbitrium, and
what it does is contingens et evitabile, while the intellect
obeys necessity. He is a most decided indetermininist; for,
according to him, the intellect only procures the material,
1 Stockl, Gesch. der Philos, des M .-A ., 2 Bd., Mainz 1865. K. Werner,
Die Scholastik des spateren M .-A ., 1 Bd. Ders., D . Scot., Wien 1881. Erdmann,
i. 413-426. A . Dorner, P. R .-E .2 iii. 735^754. Th. Ziegler, ii. 322 ff.
whereas the will makes the decision. In knowledge itself
the will appears from the outset, and the longer the more
in co-operation with the object,— a view which is opposed to
the Thomist doctrine of the passive behaviour of man.— The
act of consent, of fides acquisita, is a pure act of will in
relation to knowledge, as the unbaptized can also exercise
it in reference to the doctrine of the Church, whereas the
fides infusa, through which we participate in grace, is un
doubtedly pure passivity.1 Here is manifested the old
dualism between nature and grace, the latter of which is
added externally to the former without inner mediation in
the sphere of the will. Now this accentuation of undeter
minated liberty led on the one side to Pelagian paths, as it
recognises no inner necessity and self-grounding of what is
moral, but only what rests upon authority, and particularly
upon the authority of the Church. It leads thereby to
arbitrariness in this sphere and to isolation of what is moral,
and even to laxities, as in the question of the duty of
restoring what is stolen and such like, which remind us of
the later Jesuitical ethics. On the other side, God is the
Highest good, being not so much as in Thomas Aquinas the
object of knowledge but rather of the will, and therefore of
the surrender and alienation of the will in love. From this
point of view the Ideal appears as that ecstatic mysticism
which was especially cultivated in the order of St. Francis,
and which seeks blessedness in the complete union of love
with God. This furnishes a proof that this mysticism is
also compatible with a Pelagianizing way of thinking.
2. John o f Salisbury 2 (Sarisberiensis), who died in 1180
as Bishop of Chartres, was Abelard’s best scholar, and he
excelled his contemporaries in classical culture.3 In opposi
tion to the common scholasticism, he sought to exhibit
Christian Ethics scientifically, and not merely in its indi
vidual but in its social character, in virtue of which it finds
1 Cf. Erdmann, l.c, p. 423 f.
2 Herm. Reuter, Joh. v. Salisb. Zur Gesch. der cliristl. Wissensch. im 12 ·
Jahrh., "Berlin 1842. H . Ritter, Gesch. der Philos, vii. 605 fF. Schaar-
schmidt, Joh. Saresb. nach Leben u. Stud., Schriften u. Philos., Lpz. 1862.
Wagenmann, P. R .-E .2vii. 59 fF. Gass, a. a. 0 . p. 310 ff. Th. Ziegler, a. a. 0 .
302 fF.
3 But only Roman culture, the Greek being then unknown.
its proper realization in the Church and in the Christian
State. He expounds his views in his Policratus/ “ a sort
of philosophico-theological doctrine of the State constructed
out of ancient and Christian elements, a moral mirror
for courtiers and noblemen, whose duties and virtues are
described along with their errors and extravaganzas, with
a rich knowledge of life as well as of history and classical
literature, and in an elegant and ingenious style.” 2
The monk Vincent o f Beauvais 3 (t 1270), in his Speculum
doctrinale, similarly starts from the ancient ethics and com
bines with them Christian thoughts. His aim in his collec
tion of Sentences is to give a comprehensive picture of actual
life and of the right guidance of life, by reference to the several
virtues, and thereby to incite the will to what is good.
Along with him may also be mentioned Baymund o f
Sabunde, a Spaniard, who lived considerably later (c. 1436),
and who, in his Liber creaturarum, sought to connect natural
and supernatural knowledge into unity. To the love of God
corresponds the grateful love of man in return. In this
consists religion and morality. Everything in nature strives
after the higher stage; and so likewise does man through
love. Man is the recapitulation of the preceding stages of
bein g; and at the same time, by his freedom of will, he is
the image of God, and is thus bound by duty to God. Love
to God makes him godlike; for amor convertit amantem in
rem amatam. Evil is selfishness and self-w ill; the devil
will have nothing but himself. Against this indwelling
sin the Christian has continually to combat. Through his
becoming united with God in love, he also brings the whole
universe which had fallen into disharmony to a harmonious
unity. This love, however, is not a quietistic love, but it is1 3
2
1 The ancient principle is stated thus in Policrat. iii. 15 : Tyrannum occidere,

non modo licitum est, sed sequum et justum.
2 Wagenmann, l.c. p. 62. “ Undoubtedly his chief work has not been yet
exhaustively expounded by any one. It contains his ‘ Etho-politics,* his
theocratico-hierarchical Science of Society in a wonderful mixture of ancient
and biblical Old Testament elements, with his views on the relation between
Church and State, on the position of the sovereign power, on the right of
tyrannicide and revolution, and on the relation of the different classes of
society to the moral organism of the State,” etc.
3 Gass in Ztschr. f. KG. i. 365 if., and in his Gesch. d. Ethik, i. 319 f.
active in the love of our neighbour and in the unfolding and
transfiguration of the natural powers.1 Here we have a
series of excellent thoughts which might have had a future, if
the development of Spain and of the Roman Church had
taken another course.
§ 60. Ethics in the Age o f Nominalism?
The issue of Scholasticism in Nominalism continued the

movement begun by Duns Scotus.
1. Nominalism dissolved the untrue combination of theology

and philosophy which the earlier scholasticism had cultivated,
and by which it had made a religious metaphysic out of the
doctrine of the Church. On the other hand, it sought to set
theology more on its own feet, but certainly only in the sense
of maintaining the authority of the Church. It thereby freed
theology from a mass of unnecessary scholastic ballast, in the
form of distinctions and such like, and this had a wholesome and
preparatory significance. On another side, again, nominalism
combined with its denial of universals and the necessity of
knowledge, an accentuation of the will in the sense of arbi
trariness which tended to shatter the inner basis of morals.
2. W e already see this in William o f Occam3 (t 1347),
the doctor invincibilis and venerabilis inceptor. In rejecting
universalia, and with them the philosophical proof of reason
for the doctrine of the Church as it had been advocated by
the previous realistic scholasticism, he brought the two
elements of scholasticism— philosophy and the doctrine of
the Church— into opposition to each other, and he wished to
have each of them referred to itself. This would have been
in itself a principle rich in significance for the future if it
had been correspondingly carried out. But as he put it, it
led in the religious sphere only to a strengthening of the
authority of the Church, although not of the papal authority.
1 Cf. Schaarschmidt in Herzog’s P. R .-E .1

2 xii. 547 if., where the literature is
given.
* StockI, Phil. d. M. 2 Bd., Mainz 1865. K. Werner, Die nachskotistische
Scholastik, Wien 1884.
3 Erdmann, ii. 428 if. Wagenmann, P. R .-E ,2 x. 683-695.
In like manner the subject of morality was recognised by the
nominalistic thinking of Peter d’Ailly and others as resting
only on the ground of a positive institution of the will
without any inner necessity of the thing itself. The good is
good, and sin is sin, on the ground of a divine arrangement
which might just as well have established the opposite. This
is the consequence of the Scotist principle of the will, in
the sense of a groundless preference or pleasure. But this
amounts to defining the moral as something contingent and
denying its inner necessity, whereby the proper essence of the
moral is denied and annulled. — The same severance and
reciprocal independence which Occam claimed for philosophy
and the doctrine of the Church, was transferred by him also
to the relation between State and Church. And here too he
dissolved the scholasticism of Thomas Aquinas in regard to
the dependence of the secular on the spiritual power and
their asserted unity, by limiting the spiritual power to its
proper sphere, and demanding for the secular power on the
other hand independence within its special limits. It was
with this doctrine that lie stood up for Louis of Bavaria in
his conflict with John X X II., and he was supported in his
contentions by Marsilius of Padua (t c. 1342) and John of
Jandun (t 1338).1 The principles which were here main
tained with regard to the independence of the secular power
remind us, in the strongest way, of the later propositions and
doctrines of Luther, and they bore in themselves the germ of
a reform of the mediaeval ideal of the moral life. I f such a
reformation was not then reached, it was not merely because
of the unfavourableness of the times, or the prematureness of
the positions set up, ,but because they were not grasped
sufficiently in principle, nor developed out of the religious
root of the justification of faith. I f the old moral view
continued to survive, it was arbitrary to except a single
sphere of life from it. Occam remained the Franciscan monk,
and the rigid Franciscan party which took the side of Louis
sought salvation only in a sharpening of the monastic ideal.
Peter d ’A illy 2 and Gerson, who were both celebrated nomin-
1 See the extracts from their Defensor pacis in Gieseler, ii. 3, p. 35 ff., and
Friedberg, Die mittelalterl. Ansichten u. s. w. i. ii. 1874.
. 2 Tschackert, Peter v. Ailli, Gotha 1877, and in P. R .-E .2 i. 226 ff.
V „ <
oo ,
alists, with all their agreement with Occam, and with all their
preference for a more practical and religious than scholastic
treatment of questions, were yet bound by scholastic limita
tions. D ’Ailly connected himself chiefly with the mystics of
St. Victor, and Gerson extols along with Hugo of St. Victor,
especially Bonaventura. Peter d’Ailly’s Speculum considera
tionis and Compendium contemplationis move entirely on these
paths. In the traditional way he contrasts the contemplative
and active life under the types of Rachel and Leah; and in
allegorical connection with the family of Jacob, he repre
sents the stages of contemplation as a spiritualis genealogia.
Gerson1 too, notwithstanding the direction of his disposition
to the practical which led him to take his attitude against
the vana curiositas in negotio fidei, and to seek to limit the
current distinctions as well as to cultivate a methodical
mysticism, did not recognise the fundamental error of the
system. Nominalism thus also proved itself incapable of
giving soundness to Christian Ethics. Moreover, the treat-
ment of ethics, in consequence of the disappearing of the
speculative or systematic power of the earlier time, now lost
itself largely in casuistry.
3. Towards the close of the Middle Ages Casuistics became,
more frequently than before, the form in which writers pre
ferred to treat ethical questions. This, indeed, became so
much the case that the writings relating to the subject
gradually took the form of alphabetically arranged moral
Lexicons, which could be consulted in every individual case;
and this could only increase the externalism and the dead
ening of the moral judgment. Or, they chose the form of
a collection of moral rules like Gerson’s Regulco Morales, in
which, with all the rich knowledge of the world and of man
expressed in them, the writers showed how insecure the previous
foundations had become, and how wavering the moral judg
ment was, since, in place of fixed principles, there had come
in the estimation of particular circumstances, which could
not but prepare the way for the principle of probabilism.
Questionable and pertinent sentences are here combined with
each other.2 This was a consequence of nominalism. In
1 Schwab, J. Gerson, Wurzburg 1858. C. Schmidt, P. R .-E .2 v. 132 IF.
2 Gass, i.. 4 0 1 : Utile et inutile, noxium et innoxium dicuntur in moralibus
the matter of the Franciscan, Jean Petit, and the question of
tyrannicide, Gerson, both in Paris and at the Council of
Kostnitz, took a decided position against the immoral pro
positions of Petit, and advocated their unconditional rejection
on the part of the Council. He also otherwise shows a sober
and moderate habit of mind. In his mystical writings (Con
siderationes de theologia mystica speculativa, De theologia
mystica practica, Tractatus de elucidatione scholastica mysticae
theologiae) he has indeed cultivated mysticism essentially in
the customary and specially Franciscan way. The raptus,
or amor ecstaticus, is a feeling and tasting of God, with
suspension of the lower functions; yet he warns his readers
against the excesses of a Euysbroek, because they endangered
pantheistically the distinction between the Creator and the
creature. Contemplativeness includes love; and the trans
figuration of the God-loving soul includes the unreserved
subjection of the human will under the divine will. He
likewise warns against an all too rigid asceticism, and against
the neglect of duty under the pretext of living only for
contemplation, as well as against the images of the phantasy.
But with all this he did not hit upon the proper root of the
aberration referred to. An entirely different reform of the
foundations of the system was necessary.
§ 61. The German Mysticism}
Mysticism found its completest, but also its most question

able development in the sphere of the German mind, and in
accordance with its subjective inwardness in the Dominican
Order. It was developed, partly in a speculative and partly
in a practical bearing; but the more speculative it was, so
much the more was it influenced by Neo - Platonism and
non absolute, sed per respectum ad nos cum circumstantiis finis, loci et tem
poris, officii et ceterorum. Nihil est adeo consilium in lege evangelica, quin
in casu posset esse obligatorium. Consilium salubre est, frequenter agere contra
scrupulos leves et trepidos.
1 Preger, Gesch. der deutschen Mystik im M .-A ., Lpz. i. ii. 1874, 1881.
Bohringer, xvii.-xix. Pfeiffer, Deutsche Mystiker des 14 Jahrh. Besides Ch.
Schmidt, Etudes sur le mysticisme allemand au 14me si£cle, in the Memoires de
PAcademie des sciences morales, Par. 1847.
VOL. I. Z
Dionysius Areopagita, although not in a directly pantheistic
sense. In its practical form it was also continually beset
with the danger of regarding the sinful selfhood as inter
changeable with the individual limitedness and finiteness.
But both in its speculative and practical forms it was charac
terized by a great energy of the religious subjectivity as con
trasted with outward works, and with a warm accentuation and
cultivation of the inner relationship to Christ. Nevertheless,
in its essentially negative attitude towards the world it was
incapable of rightly appreciating the moral task of man in
the world.
1. Master Eckhart1 ( f 1327) is the chief speculative repre

sentative of the German Mysticism. He develops his views
in accordance with his connection as a Dominican with Thomas
Aquinas and his principle of knowledge. God is alone the
true reality; the creature is properly nothing; it is only in
so far as God is its ground in it that it is. In the measure
then that the soul goes out from the creature and leaves it,
God effuses Himself into it. The nearest task of the Christian
life, is really how to become like the example of Christ as He
has shown it to us in His mode of living on earth. This is
“ the way of the humanity of Christ.” He who cannot get
to anything higher, let him keep to this way. But the way
1 Werke herausg. v. Pfeiffer, Lpz. 1847. C. Schmidt, Stud. u. Krit. 1839, 3.

Martensen, Hamb. 1842. Jos. Bach, Μ. E. der Yater der deutschen Spekul.,
Wien 1864. Lasson, Μ. E. der Mystiker, Berl. 1868. And especially Preger,
Gesch. der deutsclien Mystik im M .-A ., Lpz. i. 1874, p. 309 ff. Denifle, Mcister
Eckhart’s lat. Schriften u. die Grundanschauung seiner Lehre, im Archiv liir
Literatur- u. Kunstgesch. des M .-A ., 2 Bd., Berl. 1886, pp. 417-652. (See the
notice of Loofs in the Theolog. Liter. Zeitung 1887, Nr. 10.) Denifle’s posi
tions are : 1. The Latin writings of Eckhart are more important than those in
German ; 2. the doctrine of Eckhart is essentially the scholastic doctrine, resting
on Thomas Aquinas, and only from defective acuteness and clearness of his
thoughts carried into his unmistakeably pantheistic eirors. These views have
been advocated by Denifle against Preger. “ The prince of the scholastics is
more of a mystic than Dietrich of Freiburg.” Scholasticism and mysticism are
not opposites. “ The German mystics deserve great respect, not as deep, clear
thinkers, but as mediators between the scholastic circle of ideas and the intelli
gence of the German-speaking public ” (Den. p. 527). This question still awaits
further elucidation and decision, and it may well be the case that Denifle has
mistaken the characteristic positions of Eckhart.
of the Deity is a higher way ; it is “ to walk in the knowledge
of the holy Trinity.” Dor this the soul must die to all that
is not God, and throw itself into the divine nature. The best
and highest virtue is “ nothing else than pure separatedness
wholly from all creatures.” For “ he who wishes to be this
or that, wishes to be something; but separatedness would be
nothing.” This is the essence of all humility. The soul which
Has thus become free from all the creature and from selfness,
is then filled by God, so that God effuses Himself into such
an entirely pure soul; and thus man is united with God. “ Yet
a pure soul must also let this be, and must let God alone
work without hindrances; and thus he works perfectly His
likeness in it, and works it into Himself. Thus the soul
comes to understand Him and makes love with Him. This
is the essence of perfection.” Eckhart returns again and
again to the treatment of these themes in his sermons.
“ When I preach,” he says on one occasion, “ I am wont to
speak of separatedness, and that man should become emptied
of himself and of all things; secondly, that one should be
formed again into the simple good, which is G od ; and thirdly,
that one should think of the high nobility which God has
planted in the soul, in that man comes by it into a wondrous
relation; fourthly, of the pureness of the divine nature, and
of the clearness in the divine being, which is unspeakable.”
“ God brings forth in the soul His birth and His W o rd ; and
the soul receives and gives it further to the powers in a mani
fold way.” 1 With this Eckhart stands in opposition to the
prevailing doctrine of works and external religiousness. For
it is not individual works which make man h o ly ; “ but being
holy makes holy works.” “ Therefore one must never cease
till one attains to virtue in its essence and its ground; ” so
that the virtues of the soul are then natural, and are exercised
without a “ wherefore,” i.e. without thought of reward. But if
merit does -not belong to good works generally, neither does it
pertain to extraordinary morals and works. In general, one
ought not to seek after what is peculiar. “ God has not
bound salvation to a peculiar way.”
Christ, the incarnate God, and the relationship to Him,
have only the significance of a stage of transition. The
1 Linsenmeyer, Gesch. der Predigt in Deutschland, Mtinchen 1886, pp. 396, 399.
proper height of perfection consists in the immediate and
unmediated union with the Deity in the divine ground of the
soul.1 But the historical character of Christianity, and the
abiding tie of our relationship to God in the historical Christ,
is thus misapprehended and exchanged for a purely subjective
state, which is realized in the divine ground of the soul of
man. Although the forgiveness of sin is taught, it is never
theless not the essential basis of the new life, but only the
completion of one’s own attitude of life ; and therefore it is
always a doctrine of one’s own work, although not of works.
But this position does not pass beyond the predominating
ascetic tendency, with its negative attitude to the world, to
an appreciation of the positive moral task of the Christian
life in the world. This also holds true of the subsequent
Mysticism down to the “ German Theology” ( Theologia
Germanica) and to Staupitz.
2. Taulcr2 (t 1361), Eckhart’s disciple, represents the
thoughts of this Mysticism in his Sermons with a more prac
tical tendency, and as a preacher who exerted a powerful
influence. Eecognising the external Church and its orders,
and holding them in high estimation, he nevertheless sees in
the “ Friends of G od ” the pillars of the Church; and he thus
puts less stress upon speculations regarding the intra-trini-
tarian life of God than on the right godliness of the inner life
of man. Being rendered incapable for all good by sin, we
must let ourselves be drawn by grace, and seize the word of
the forgiveness of sin, in order thus to come to “ peace and
rest of conscience; ” for “ all worthiness comes never from
human words and merits, but from the sole grace and merit
of our Lord Jesus Christ.” From such penitent faith the love
of gratitude is then born. But how far grace further com-
1 His touching poem : “ A Soul lay at the feet of God ” (Preger, ii. 62 ff.), also
passes into that mystical union which endangers the distinction between the
Creator and the creature, and represents the relation between them as more
natural than personal and moral:—
“ So naturalized art Thou in me,
That naught remains ’twixt me and Thee.”
2 E. Schmidt, Joh. Tauler v. Strassb., Hamb. 1841. Bahring, J. T. und die
Gottesfreunde, Hamb. 1853. Preger, Ztschr. f. histor. Theol. 1869,1. Denifle,
T .’s Bekehrung, Miinster 1870. Preger, P. R .-E .1
2 xv. 251, where the literature
is given.
municates itself, is conditioned by the greater or less purity of
the subject into which God is to effuse Himself; “ just in the
same way as when the air is clear and pure, the sun must pour
itself forth and cannot withhold itself.” The Sermons are
specially occupied with the question as to how we are to
become free and bare of all things in order that God may be
able to give Himself to us in the highest degree. W e must
first put ourselves externally under the law of the self-denying
example of Christ; then we must become internally loosed
from all selfness; in order, lastly, to renounce all images
and forms of our thoughts, and even our pleasure in the divine
consolations, and thus to sink and be merged entirely in God,
so as to be over-formed with Him, and to become “ a man in
God’s form.”
What has just been said may be illustrated by a few
passages from his sermons. “ I f man is really to become one
with God, then all his powers, even those of the inner man,
must die and be silent; the will must itself be discharged,
even of the good of all will, and become will-less; and so the
understanding or the reason must be divested of its cognition
of the truth, and the memory and all the powers of their
proper subjects or objects. It is a hard death when all lights
are quenched, and when wonderfully many lights of the pure
soul are shining in their pow er; yet it must die even to these
lights and pleasurably felt gifts, because they are not God
alone ” {Second Easter Sermon). “ It is only then that man
reaches the divine abyss.” “ The spirit loses itself so deeply
in that abyss in a groundless way, that it knows nothing of
itself, neither its mode, nor work, nor operations, nor taste, nor
life. For it is all a mere pure and simple good, and an
unutterable abyss, an essential good ” {Third Sermon at Pente
cost). “ When one truly melts away in the divine ground in a
true knowledge of his unequal being, and has previously well
exercised himself in this, and has truly and purely cleared
and purified himself in spirit and nature according to his
capacity, then there is a loving immersion. When nature
does its part and cannot go farther, and thus comes to
its highest, then there comes the divine abyss and lets
its divine spark strike into the pure spirit; and by the
same power of the supernatural help of God, the transfigured
spirit of man is drawn and carried out of itself into a
peculiar inexpressible pure feeling of God ” {First Sermon on
Trinity Sunday)}
Hence the monastic mode of life, as well as all externality
in the condition of life, appears to him indifferent. Accord
ingly the requirement of a personal relationship of experience
to God, is here asserted in a significant manner. But the pro
gress of his thoughts does not correspond to the right begin-
ing of the forgiveness of sin through the laying hold of the
merit of Christ by faith, and the grateful love produced by
this experience. These thoughts rather lose themselves on
the lines of the Neo-Platonic mysticism with its demand that
the creature shall disappear in the infinite divine essence.1 2
Thus there comes to light the substratum of this mysticism
in its affinity with pantheism, which identifies the creaturely
and finite with what ought not to be, and puts perfection in
the inner subjective state of the general feeling of G od ;
although Tauler, as a practical preacher, gives warning against
inactive quietism, and he combats the error that we may pre
termit the works of love towards our neighbour for the sake
of inward devotion.
3. The Following o f the Poor Life o f Christy or “ The Book
of Spiritual Poverty,” 3 is in affinity with Tauler, and it was
formerly ascribed to him. Here, however, external poverty is
required along with internal poverty. “ Poverty is likeness to
God.” For God is a being separated from all creatures. A
poor man cleaves to nothing which is below him, but only to
that which is elevated above all things. Poverty is freedom
from the images and distinctiveness of the creatures and of
earthly burdensomeness. As God is free capacity and free
working, and yet at the same time blessed rest, so likewise
poverty is a pure working, and yet at the same time divine
rest.
1 Cf. Linsenmeyer, l.c. p. 420.

2 So Tauler, as well as Eckhart, repeatedly refers to the heathen masters who,
“ from the inward principle which they lived and always waited on,” recognised
the mystery of the Deity, and even of the Trinity, only, as was natural, not the
Incarnation. Thus Tauler mentions Plato and Proclus, and refers to Augustine.
Cf. Linsenmeyer, l.c. p. 427.
3 Edited by Denifle, Das Buch v. geistlicher Armuth, Miinch. 1877. Cf.
Preger, l.c. p. 260.
These thoughts obtained a great diffusion in Southern and
Central Germany, and were expressed at times in touching
religious fervour, and with a strong accentuation of the grace
of God in the sufferings of Christ.1 But a reform of the
actual life could not be effected by such views because of the
acosmistic character which is peculiar to this mysticism, and
which therefore makes it take too much of a merely negative
attitude to the reality of life,— notwithstanding its representa
tives taking part in the struggles between the Pope and the
Emperor, on the side of Louis of Bavaria. Its negative posi
tion is only overcome when the relation to God is apprehended
not merely as an inner state, but as the personal relationship
of forgiveness, and when from this standpoint a positive rela
tionship to the world of creation and of the earthly calling is
also attained.
4. Heinrich Suso2 ( 1 2 9 5 - 1 3 6 6 ) was one of the most
enthusiastic disciples of the “ holy master ” Eckhart. Up to
his fortieth year, he imposed upon himself extraordinary self-
tortures. It was only then that they were “ forbidden ” him
by Eckhart.3 The place of these external exercises was there
after taken by internal exercises of renunciation. He had
practised such mortification even to the verge of dying in
order to fill his empty heart with the highest good. To him
“ Eternal Wisdom ” appeared as the sum of all perfection;
according to the writings of Solomon, it was the fairest,
loveliest darling, and he identified it at one time with Christ
and again with the holy Virgin, to whom he consecrated the
treasures of his “ loving heart from his youth up.” The name
and fulness of this Eternal Wisdom was summed up for him
in the name of Jesus, the eternal Love who is the outstream-
ing fountain of pure Deity. With an iron stylus he wrote
the name of Jesus on his breast,' and called himself the
“ amandus ” or “ lover ” of his heavenly beloved one. In
1335, after his return from the School of Master Eckhart, he
1 E.g. in Margarethe Ebner. Cf. Preger, Gesch. d. deutschen Mystik, ii.
287.
2 Preger, Die Briefe Susos, 1867; Ztschr. fur deutsches Altertlium, viii. 4 0 6 ;
Gesch. der deutschen Mystik, ii. pp. 309-418. C. Schmidt, P. R .-E .2 xv. 76 if.
8 For eight years he had carried on his bare back a cross pierced with nails in
order to make the suffering of Christ more sensible. He was wont to offer 100
prostrate and 100 kneeling Venice (i.e. supplications for forgiveness).
finished in the monastery at Constance his hook “ Of the
Eternal Wisdom.” Its theme is the passion of Christ, and in
it he wished to show, in the form of a dialogue between that
Wisdom and her servant, how the pious man is to come to
perfection through the following of the suffering of Christ. Por
such a mode of life he gathered in the decayed Christian city
associations of “ Friends of God ” and a brotherhood of the
Eternal Wisdom, and exercised by letters and otherwise a far-
reaching pastoral activity in these circles, especially among
noble and pious women. In his speculation he followed the
thoughts of Eckhart. His chief concern is the cultivation of
the inner divine life. The way to God leads through Christ
by repetition of His sufferings. The degrees of this mystical
life are purification, which is the expulsion of all creaturely
desires; illumination, which fills the soul with divine forms;
and perfection, “ which consists in high intuition, in fervent
love, and sweet enjoying of the highest good.” “ He who
would attain to the higher perfection, must rise above high
things. He must rise above nine things, of which we shall
here mention only the four lowest and least. He must first
rise above the senses and the sensible nature, and surpass all
sensible things ; the next is, thou must rise above thy bodily
and natural powers; thirdly, above all desire ; and, fourthly,
above all images and imagination.” 1 The man who abandons
himself to God “ is unformed of the creature, is formed with
Christ, and superformed into the Deity.” The inscriptions in
his chapel closed with the words of Cassian: “ All perfection,
ends where the soul is received with all its powers into the
only One, which is God.” 2 W e easily see, however, how the
old error likewise breaks through here, the error which holds
the sensible nature to be what is wrong and the impediment
of the life in God, just as in Neo-Platonism. Accordingly,
instead of the forgiveness of sin, it makes purification the
basis of the godlike life, just as the Neo-Platonists identified
spiritualization with moralization and saw the goal in union
with pure being. Thus Suso, like the other Mystics, refers
primarily to the heathen masters; in the second stage to
Augustine, Dionysius, Bonaventura, and Thomas Aquinas;
1 Sermon on John xvi. 28. Cf. Linsenmeyer, p. 434.
2 Preger, l.c. p. 353. %
and, on the third stage, to the highest knowledge of Eckhart,
although he does not name him.1 A similar position is taken
by the other preachers and representatives of this Mystical
School. “ I have found rest in nothing but in Nothing.” 2
Thus does one of these mystics make the soul speak. This
nothing, however, is the pure Deity ; for “ the place out of
which I was born is the Deity, it is my fatherland.” It is
always the immediate relationship of the soul to the Deity
itself which is in question, and not the historically revealed
God, nor the historically mediated relationship. All this is
only the ladder, which is superfluous when the soul has
attained to the Deity itself.
5. Ruysbroek3 (t 1381) was the Father of the Mysticism
of the Netherlands. He teaches a threefold coming of Christ
to us, corresponding to the three orders of being and the circles
of life (the divine, the spiritual, and the natural), and the
thereby conditioned threefold gradation of the mystical ascent
to God. In His first coming He draws the outwardgoing
desire of the soul inwards; this is the stage of purification,
the struggle of the soul against the inordinate love to the
creatures. His second coming is the rich outflow of strengthen
ing gifts into the higher powers of our soul; and here especially
we have the inward living participation in the self-divesting
sufferings of Christ. In the third coming of Christ, the
divided soul is transported out of its earthly consciousness
and gazes with transfigured look and unrelated inner face into
the bodily life of God with its fulness of gifts and graces, in
which ocean the soul sinks— dying to itself in order to come
forth always anew again out of God. On the first stage, the
essential moral action consists in imitation of Christ and of
holiness; upon the second stage, it consists in the exercise of
the three theological virtues ; and upon the third stage, it
consists in mystical intuition. Here we stand again at the
same goal which connects this whole way of thinking and
mood of mind with Neo-Platonism, and ultimately with the
1 Preger, l.c. p. 412.
2 Lektor von Sterngassen, Strassburg. Linsenmeyer, p. 441.
3 B. Engelhardt, Rich. v. St. Viktor u. Ruysbroek, Erl. 1838 ; bes. R .’s
Ansichten liber das kontempl. Leben, pp. 224-244. C. Schmidt, Etudes sur le
mysticisme allemand, etc., u. P. R .-E .2 xiii. 143 if. Osterloo, J. Ruysb.,
Amsterd. 1874.
\
intellectual movement of the ancient philosophy from the time

of Socrates.1
Gerson2 declared himself opposed to the transcendental
excesses of Kuysbroek, because they seemed to annul or
endanger the essential distinction between God and the
creature. The transfiguration of the God-loving soul in
cluded the unreserved subordination of the human will under
the divine will, as even the prayer on the highest stage still
is : Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven. But within
this limitation, Gerson also knows the height of that contem
platio which unites itself with the Deity in the soaring of
love. According to his view, the vita contemplativa is the
status hominum extra mundum.
6. Thomas a Kem pisz (t 1471) has most successfully
brought the thoughts of mysticism into the service of edifi
cation in his De imitatione Christi. This work, which has
been translated into all the European languages and been
published about 2000 times, is full of religious devoutness,
and is therefore still highly prized in evangelical circles. But
the ideal of this production is also fundamentally monasticism,
and a mysticism which misapprehends the, significance of the
work of the earthly calling. The same is essentially the
position of the Brethren o f the Common L ife? in whom the
practical mystical movement was reduced to a Biblical sim
plicity, and gave itself an actual form in the life of an outward
society. Their object was to seek, in opposition to the secu
larization of life even in the Church, the salvation of their
soul and of the people in the following of Jesus Christ, in the
form of an associated communal life with a community of
goods maintained for their mutual advancement in the spiritual
life.5 The founder of this movement was Gerhard Groot
(t 1384). He received impulses from Kuysbroek and trans
formed them into practical activity by founding a monastic
1 See Luthardt’s Antike Ethik, p. 181 f. 2*4See § 60, supra, at end.

1
3 Hirsche, Prolegg. zu einer neuen Ausgabe der Imit. Christi, Berl. 2 Bde.
1873-74 ; Id. P. R .-E .2 ii. 678 if.
4 Hirsche, P. R .-E .2 ii. 678-760. Mobius, Beitrage zur Charakteristik der
Briider des gemeins. Lebens. Inaug. Dissert. Lpz. 1887.
5 “ Castam, concordem et communem vitam deinceps observabo.” “ Woe to
him,” says Florentius, “ who when living in fellowship asks what is his, or calls
anything his.”
society without a binding vow, as a means of flight from the
temptations of the world. He celebrated in lofty words the
blessing of poverty, and cultivated spiritual exercises, but at
the same time required labour.1 An earnest preacher of
repentance, with profound knowledge of the soul, he is yet
always bound in the Romish manner in his evangelical
knowledge and tendency. Labour only proceeds side by side
with contemplation; nor is the full moral appreciation of the
earthly calling attained even here. The moral way of thinking
still remains the monkish one. And thus even the Brethren
with all their exercise of humble love, especially in the case
of Florentius, the organizer of the association, still continued
to cultivate mysticism in the form of ecstasy. Like Euysbroek,
they distinguished the three stages o f : 1. The active life (vita
activa), which slays the fleshly lu st; 2. The devout life (vita
devota) ; and 3. The contemplative life (vita contemplativa), or
the sinking into God. Gerhard and Florentius had led a life
of worldly enjoyment until they gave themselves up to
devotio, and, in contempt of the world and of themselves, to
the imitation of the humble life of Christ (desiderium animce
ad Deum). By the gratia devotionis man is transported from
the world (raptus in spiritu, tractus in coelum), and beholds
visions. This is particularly seen in the case of Mande, who
had whole series of heavenly visions,2 although others sought
to subordinate the mystical element to the ethical element, as
is shown by the work of Thomas a Kempis, whose work was
the finest blossom of this movement, and still more by the
wholesome influence which the Brethren exercised on their
surroundings.
7. The German Theology {Theologia Germanica) 3 proceeded
1 Cf. Rossmann, Betractitungen iiber das Zeitalter der Reformation, Jena
1858, p. 261 ff. They engaged in copying manuscripts, binding and (later)
printing of books.
2 Hirsche, l.c. p. 723.
3 Pfeiffer, Theologia dcutscli: Die leret gar manchen lieblichen underscheit
gotlicher warheit und seit gar hohe und gar schone ding von einem volkomen
lcben, 3 Aufl., Giitersl. 1875. [Theologia Germanica, which setteth forth
many fair lineaments of Divine Truth, and saith very lofty and lovely things
touching a Perfect Life. Translated by Susanna Winkworth. With a Preface
by the Rev. Clias. Kingsley, and a Letter by the Chevalier Bunsen. 2nd ed.]
Lisco, Die Heilslehre der Thcologie deutsch., Stuttg. 1857. Hamberger, P.
R .-E .2 xv. 415 ff.
from the circle of the “ Friends of God.” It was edited by
Luther in 1516, and extolled by him ; but in the course of
his development he separated himself internally more from it.
This little work treats profoundly of the opposition of Adam
and Christ, i.e. of the old and new man, and of the union
with God, the highest good. But, as is generally character
istic of mysticism, the historical side of salvation is also here
transposed into the subjective; and it stands in connection
therewith that this one-sided subjectivity does not find the
right relationship to the world, but has an acosmistic character.
The perfection of man according to this treatise also consists
only in this way of complete withdrawal from the world and
from oneself, and in the complete entrance into God con
ditioned thereby, or deification. This is the old mystical
ideal of perfection into which non-Christian phases of mind
are worked.
8. Staupitz1 follows the same lines, although more Augus-
tinian in his thoughts and attitude. His mysticism exercised
an influence on wide circles of men of an inward habit of mind,
on the threshold of the Beformation. In his tractate, “ Of
the Following of the Voluntary Dying of Christ,” and still
more beautifully in his little book, entitled, “ Of the Love of
God,” he expounds his thoughts in this connection. The
mediaeval character of his doctrine of justifying grace is recog
nisable ; and it is explicable why he was forced to repudiate
Luther’s doctrine of justification by faith alone. To Staupitz
the goal of man’s longing is also the mystical union with
Christ; yet not in the naturalistic sense of being merged in
God, but in the ethical sense as a devotion of love to God
who is to be loved above all things, and it is effected by God
who works all things through sufferings in the following of
Christ, for He is perfection and full of it. From Him pro
ceed» the essential love, the Holy Spirit, and it becomes
indwelling in man, and brings forth in man all that is good,
and all virtues and good works. Although God is thus the
efficient one, yet the goal is that merging in God in which
man ultimately threatens to disappear in G od; so that we
1 Mallet, P. R .-E .2 xiv. 648 ff. A. Ritschl, Rechtf. u. Vers. i. 124-128.

Dieckhoff, Die Theologie des Job. v. Staupitz, ind. Ztsclir. f. kirchl. Wissensch.
1887, 4 u. 5.
therefore find ourselves also in Staupitz on the previous
path of mystical subjectivity. Yet this responded to a
widespread state of inind, as we see, for instance, from
the great following which he had in different places, such
as Niirnberg.
§ 62. The Thought o f the Following o f the Life o f Jesus.
The always-returning motto of the moral ideal, especially

in the second half of the Middle Ages, is formed by the
thought of the Following and Imitating of the Life, and
especially of the Poor Life of Jesus, in connection with
the increasing significance which the accentuation of the
humanity of Jesus gained in the West, especially on German
soil.
1. In the Greek Church and theology, the interest that
stands in the foreground is the Deity of Christ, and the
deification of man as what we principally owe to Him. It
was a world that had fallen under the power of death in
which Christ had appeared with His proclamation in order
to communicate to it supramundane life. It was therefore
natural that this side of Christianity should be emphasized
with a certain exclusiveness. Thus the Greek theology
occupied the theological standpoint, proceeding from above
downwards. And the speculative endowment and habit
of the Greek mind responded to this theological tendency.
2. The more Christianity became at home in the world,
the side of the affinity of Christ with humanity could not but
gain in importance; and the anthropological standpoint accord
ingly asserted itself. It is well known that this standpoint is
characteristic of the Western Church and its theology. The
main questions here turned not merely around the life in the
other world, but upon renewal in this life ; and this was
especially the case in the sphere of the German peoples.
Here it was not a dying world, but a humanity entering into
history, with which Christianity had to deal. But this
humanity required education and renewal. With this re
quirement the example of the man Jesus Christ comes into
the foreground. Gregory the Great already emphasizes the
exemplariness of the life of Jesus, and he accentuates it more,
emphatically than His atonement. He sets forth the example
of Christ as valid for the different conditions of life, especially -
in reference to humility, patience, and gratitude. Isidore,
likewise speaks of the exemplum humilitatis.1 The German
and Anglo-Saxon poems which aimed at bringing home the
Gospel to the newly converted peoples, did not indeed give
prominence to the lowliness of Jesus, for that would have
been a characteristic too alien to the natural self-conscious
ness of these peoples; but they bring forward His philanthropy
and similar qualities. In short, it is always the man Jesus
who is emphasized, but as equipped with divine power. By
His instruction and example He is for us the leader through
life ; and by His death He has bound us permanently to
H im self; and therefore we ought to fulfil His command
ments in gratitude and obedience by following Him. This
is also the thought of the Heliand and Otfried. And this
thought of the following of Jesus receives always the longer
the more increasing significance, and even becomes in the
later Middle Ages the scheme of the whole Christian life.
Bonaventura in his Meditationes vitee Christi repeats again
and again the invitation to look upon the Lord in order by
such contemplation to attain to the imitation of His virtues
of humility, poverty, and wisdom; for where shall we else
where find example and teaching for all the virtues in such
a manner as in the life of the Lord ? 12 For, says Ludolf of
Saxony in his Vita Christi,3 it is for this that Christ was
sent from heaven, that He might go before us on the way
of the virtues. Thus it may be said that the thought of
the Following, or rather of the Imitation of Christ, forms
the centre of the mediaeval state of mind down to the close
of the Middle Ages. Thus Thomas a Kempis at the very
beginning of his De imitatione Christi /., says: Summum
1 Sentent. ii. 11.

2 Prooeni. : Ubi enim virtutis excels® paupertatis, eximi® humilitatis, pro
fund® sapienti® orationis, mansuetudinis, obedienti®, patienti® ccterarumqne
virtutum exempla et doctrinam sic invenies sicut in vita domini ?
3 Proleg.: Ut pr®iret nos in via virtutum. C-f. Nippold, Das Leben Christi
in M .-A . Vortrag, Bern 1884, p. 65 ff. Seeberg, Die german. Auffassung des
Christenth. in dem friiheren M .-A . Ztschr. fiir kirchl. Wissensch. u. kirchl.
Leben, 1888, 2, 3.
igitur studium nostrum sit in vita Christi meditari; and
oportet ut totam vitam suam illi (sc. Christo) studeat con
formare. Here, however, it is above all the self-estrangement
and the sufferings of Christ which form the centre of con
sideration. In this sense Bernard in his well-known Passion
Hymns has immersed himself contemplatively in the suffer
ings of Christ. He does not do this without at the same
time beholding in the sufferings of Christ also the reconcilia
tion of G od ; and this distinguishes him, and also the prevail
ing reflection of those who came after him, from Abelard, who
sees in the sufferings of Christ only the means of awakening
love in return at the cost of the objective reconciliation of
God. But these two sides are not yet rightly mediated and
united with each other. The contemplation of the passion of
Christ does not serve, above all, to draw from it the joyful
confidence of the forgiveness of sin, but rather to let this
view work upon one's own sympathy in the devotio com
passionis. Hence along with the sufferings of Christ the
sufferings of Mary are presented without hesitation for similar
compassion, as by Anselm and Suso {supra, § δ 3, 61). This
intuitive contemplation of the sufferings of Christ and Mary
comes down through the whole course of this mysticism. It
forms an essential element of it, although only as a stage of
transition to the goal of perfection, which consists in submer
sion into the Deity Himself. And down to the present day
this is the predominating way in which the passion is regarded
in the Boman Church. It serves to awaken compassion, which
is a purely pathic and humanly natural thing, as it was in
the case of the women of Jerusalem ; only that under certain
circumstances it goes much farther, and can exercise an
influence of such strength upon the phantasy and feeling
that it even draws the bodily organism within the range of
its sympathy. The most active and celebrated representative
of this Following of the Poor Life of Christ was Francis of
Assisi, who, from this standpoint, sought to reform Christian
society generally.
§ 63. The Franciscan Reform }
In the sense of the Following of the Poor Life of Christ,

Francis of Assisi made his attempt to reform Christian
society; and he sought to heal it by intensifying the
monastic ideal, and making it the power determining the
universal life of Christendom.
1. Francis o f Assisi (t 1 2 26) had the change in his life,

which was to be of such far-reaching consequences, called
forth by a sermon which he heard in 1207 iii the Portiuncula
Church. Its subject was Matt. ix. 1 0 : “ Get you no gold,
nor silver, nor brass in your girdles: no wallet for your
journey, neither two coats, nor shoes, nor staff.” He now
thought that for the first time he understood the Christianity
of Christ. I f the life of the Christian is generally to be a
following of the life of Christ, then in the foreground of this
life of Christ had already been long placed the self-denial and
poverty of Christ. Francis wished, first of all, to be in
earnest with the Following of this Poor Life in his own
person. Its image was to be exhibited in himself; and it
was thus that the admiring reverence which was afterwards
paid to him understood him. The Liber conformitatum set
forth forty resemblances between Christ and Francis; and
in these he not only came up to the Saviour, but even
excelled Him.
2. While he thus exhibited in his own person the Follow
ing of the Poor Life of Christ with unreserved renunciation of
all personal possession and value of his own,12 and emphatically
asserted the precepts of Christ laid down in the Sermon on the
Mount as valid for common life, he sought thereby to heal and
to save Christian society in general. This he did, not with new
1 Gieseler, Kirchengesch. ii. 2, 3 Aufl. p. 327 if. K. Hase, Fr. v. Assisi,

ein Heiligenbild, Lpz. 1856. Zockler, P. R .-E .2 iv. 652 if. Herm. Reuter,
Gesch. der relig. Aufklarung im M .-A ., ii. 184 ff.
2 E.g. in the Rule instituted by Honorius III. 1223, c. 6, fratres nihil sibi
approprient, nec domum, nec locum, ncc aliquam rem. Sed tanquam peregrini
et advenae in hoc seculo, in paupertate et humilitate domino famulantes, vadant
pro eleemosyna confidentes. — Haec est illa celsitudo altissimae paupertatis, etc.
Gieseler, p. 329.
means and thoughts, hut only by intensifying those that had
been hitherto in use. The thought of poverty was indeed
asserted generally in the monastic foundations, but Francis
in a hitherto unknown manner formed a rule for the whole
guidance of life, and not merely for the life behind the walls
of the cloister, but within the world. The institution of the
Tertiarians1 was designed to introduce this monasticism into
general life, and thus to make the whole world into a sort
of large monastery. The principle of the greatest possible
abstinence from the usual worldly mode of life, was to be
practised by the Tertiarians within the civil relationships as
the legal rule of their conduct in life. They were to be
simple in their clothing, and without any ornament; they
were not to visit plays, nor to take part in dances; and they
were to fast much, and observe prescribed religious exercises.
It was the ideal of the monastic asceticism and negation of the
world in accordance with which life was thus to be formed.
It is manifest that this could only be carried through with
essential qualifications. If carried out logically, it annulled
itself. For if poverty is to be the universal ideal, who then
is to be a possessor ? And if mendicancy is the ideal mode
of life, it presupposes givers, and therefore possessors. More
over, if property is wrong in itself, how can it become right
by giving ? It is evident that nothing more could be reached
than an approximation to the state of the ownerless children
of God. This state thus proved itself to be impracticable.
Mere individual representatives of asceticism and renuncia
tion did not prove their position, but only put the impos
sibility of a universal realization of their ideal more clearly
into light.
3. This conflict between postulate and possibility led only
to an intensified assertion of the postulate. In the circle of
the spiritual followers of ity it partly turned the thoughts of
their phantasy to a future in which that conflict would find
its solution, as in the Apocalyptic hopes of Joachim of Floris.12
1 1221. Tertius ordo de poenitentia (Tertiarii or fratres conversi). Bonav.,

vita Franc, c. 4 : Sicut in coelum tendentibus poenitentiae viam omnibus constat
esse communem sic et hic status clericos et laicos, virgines et conjugatos in
utroque sexu admittens, etc. Gieseler, p. 331.
2 Cf. H. Reuter, l.c. p. 189 ff.
VOL. I. 2A
But the movement had also this consequence, that it carried
these religious thoughts into the wide masses of the people,
and here produced an independent interest in the questions
of the public religious life, which was afterwards to receive in
many ways important expression.
§ 64. The 'prevailing moral view and attitude.
The fundamental mode of view which ruled the moral

thinking and acting in the most varied spheres of life during
the Middle Ages, was, and continued to be, that of the mon
astic Ideal, which drew with it corresponding consequences
for conduct in the secular life.
1. The monastic Ideal} — The prevailing mood and tone of
the Middle Ages was, and continued to be, monastic; and the
monk was the ideal of the Christian. This notion exercised
great power over the minds of men, and it made itself effective
on the most varied sides. The cloister life had received its
rules in the West through Benedict, and with them the
foundations of the important culture which the monastic life
soon attained in such a high degree. Besides the laity and
clergy, the monks became an essential class in Christian
society; and the congregations sought to secure the reform
of the monasteries,12 and exercised therefrom a far-reaching
influence even upon the ecclesiastical and Christian life.
This influence fell at that time mostly into the hands of the
newly-founded mendicant orders ; and thereby a corresponding
mystico-ascetic mood, founded upon the renunciation of the
world and joy in suffering, became widely diffused. There
arose a sort of enthusiasm for the asceticism of mortification.
It assumed the most manifold and artificial forms, and in
them there was often displayed a wonderful energy of will.
The severest self-tortures were combined with the severest
privations. The intention was to go safely in this manner
1 Cf. Gass, i. 283 ff.

2 The congregation of the Cluniacens was brought to high authority through
Odo ( t 942), and after him especially through Odilo (+ 1048) and Peter the
Venerable (+1156). That of the Cistercians, 1098, obtained its influence chiefly
through Bernard, who was, from 1115, Abbot of Clairvaux.
όη the narrow way, as well as to become conformable to the
passion of Christ in love. Through their own negative and
positive doings men wished to gain perfection, and thus to
secure for themselves the fellowship of God, instead of
possessing it in the forgiveness of sin, and attaining from
that standpoint the right moral activity. Thus men practised
the exercises of an ascetic heroism such as had taken a similar
form on heathen soil.
2. The attitude of mind towards the World o f Creation,
necessarily combined with this view, was a negative and
internal one; and it became intensified from a justified
attitude and judgment into a misappreciation of the work of
God, which had as its consequence a mistaken view of the
earthly calling. The Biblical opposition of the earthly and
heavenly is transferred from the world of the inward disposi
tion into the world of external existence, and identified
with the world of creation on the one side as the world
of finiteness, and with the Church on the other side as the
world of the heavenly and eternal, so that the world of
finiteness receives its justification only through the latter, i.e.
through the undertaking of service for the Church. It is
well known to what an exorbitant degree the claims of the
papacy were thereby carried.1 Again, the contemplative life,
which has its reality in monasticism, stood high above the
active life in the world. The monks were the religiosi; they
were viewed as the special bearers of religion or of the life in
God, and the inhabitants of the paradise where the rest in
God is enjoyed. Apart from this, the world appears as a
vale of tears, and it is so called by Bernard (vallis lacry-
marum), and as a world of vanity,1 2 in which all happiness
and joy at the beginning of anything ends sadly. Art
afterwards took up this theme, and exhibited it in touching
1 Cf. e.gr. Gieseler, ii. 3, p. 101 ff., who quotes from the Summa of Augustinus
Triumphus: Sententia Pap® et sententia Dei una sententia est.— Papa univer
salis ecclesiae sponsus dicetur.— Utrum Papae debeatur honor, qui debetur
Christo secundum quod Deus? Videtur, etc. N ot to say anything of the
other glorifications of the Pope, or the consequences which were drawn from
the well-known comparison of the Church and the State to the sun and the
moon.
2 Hugo of St. Victor, De vanitate mundi, 1. iii. : Curris sed deorsum, crescis
sed ad interitum, etc.
pictures; 1 while Innocent III., in his treatise Be contemptu*
mundi, written in 1196, gave a powerful expression to the
view as a whole in a detailed description of human misery
from birth to death. He did not reach the bright picture
which he had intended to draw in contrast to this gloomy
one. This mood of mind could not but see the moral ideal
in mouasticism. Here alone did salvation and the way to
heaven seem secured. To be converted, meant to become a
monk, and in this sense to leave the world. Moreover, in
the case of those with whom the inwardness of feeling had
become predominant, mysticism was combined with monas-
ticism. The great power which this mysticism gained at that
time over the souls of men in narrower circles is shown by
Preger in his History of the German Mysticism. He gives
numerous names, especially those connected with the nunneries
belonging to the Dominican order, and to the sphere of Suso’s
influence.
3. The Idea o f Perfection, as it was formed according to
the monastic ideal, and was then represented in the cultiva
tion of science by the mendicant orders, did not fail to
encounter keen contradiction, and yet this contradiction was
compelled to yield to the power of the dominant view.
William o f St. A m our2 (f c. 1272) at Paris opposed the
authority of the monks, and especially the mendicant orders,
in his treatise Be periculis novissimorum temporum, written in
1256. With great severity he quotes the words of Christ
regarding the Pharisees, and applies them to the monks,
blaming the mendicant life of sturdy people : “ Some say that
it belongs to perfection to abandon everything for Christ and
to go a-begging; but I say that perfection consists in leaving
everything and following Christ by doing His good works,
that is, by labouring and not by begging. If any one would
be perfect, let him after he has abandoned all live on the
work of his hands; or let him enter into a monastery which
may provide for him.— If the Church has permitted, or rather
tolerated, begging in some of the rcgidarcs, it does not follow
that it is to be allowed for all time, contrary to the authority
of Paul. The permission which the Church has erroneously
1 Such as the triumph of Death in the Campo Santo at Pisa.
2 Pfender in P, R .-E .2 xvii. 137 f. Gieseler, ii. 2, p. 342 if.
vouchsafed, ought to be recalled in accordance with known
truth.” Here there stir the germs of correct knowledge; but
the knowledge is fragmentary and self-contradictory, and thus
this protest could not but remain without effect even if it had
not been externally suppressed. The monk continued to be
the ideal. The monastic vow was put om a level with
baptism; 1 the indulgence given at monkish sanctuaries (such
as that of the Portiuncula) was regarded as particularly
powerful;1 2 and the scapulary of the Carmelities delivered
from purgatory.3 Hor did the immorality of the priests and
monks, which gave rise to the gravest complaints, wholly
undeceive the people. The state of the religiosi was, not
withstanding, the status perfectionis. Poverty was regarded
as a holy state, and the art of Giotto glorified it in his
frescoes at Assisi. Biches were considered questionable;
acquisition was to be repudiated; 4 and mendicancy was
viewed as a thing well-pleasing to God, and as more holy
than labour. This could not but bring the moral judgment
regarding the earthly life and the fulfilment of the earthly
calling into complete confusion. That calling appeared as
unjustified in itself, and as requiring to get its justification
through special ecclesiastical works and performances. The
consequence of this was that men could not remain with a
calm conscience in the state of the natural life and apply
themselves to. their earthly calling; and the resulting dis
turbance of the. conscience could only be allayed by
ecclesiastical performances, such as foundations, alms, and
such like. . '
4. The exercise of Christian Charity was therefore perverted
by these views. Bich as the Middle Ages were in charitable
works, yet it was not the charity itself, or the need which it
was to supply, which was considered, but charity was regarded
1 Jerome in his Ep. 22 ad Paulam says of entrance into the monastic state :
Secundo quodammodo propositi se baptismo lavare. Thom. Aqu., Summa, ii.
2, qu. 189, a. 3 : Unde legitur in vitis patrum, quod eandem gratiam consequun
tur religionem intrantes quam consequuntur baptizati.. Gieseler, l.c. p. 349.
2 Cf. Gieseler, p. 346.
3 Gieseler, p. 349 : In hoc moriens non patietur incendium.
4 Guilelm. Lugd., Summa de virtut. 6, P. de beatitud. Paupertas est carentia
divitiarum, contemptus divitiarum— propinqua Deo— laeta, quieta, munda,
mater ct nutrix et custos religionis. Riches was the opposite of all that.
only as a means conducive to the special end of the merit
which it was desired to acquire. Men gave to the beggar not
in order to help, but in order to do a good meritorious work,
and thus to pave for themselves the way to heaven; 1 and,
accordingly, the latter Summists discuss alms no longer under
the article of “ love,” but under “ penitence” and “ satisfac
tion.” 2 Thus Innocent says: “ Alms purify, alms deliver,
alms redeem, alms protect, alms reach the goal, alms make
perfect, alms make blessed, alms justify, alms awaken new
life, alms save.” Men gave “ in provision for their future
salvation,” “ because they wished to sow on earth what they
hoped to reap eternally in heaven,” “ in order to provide
according to their powers for the future life in the hope that
alms would greatly benefit believers at the resurrection on
the last day.” 3 “ The merit, however, lies not in the fact that
the poor are helped, that their need is alleviated, and the
evil of poverty overcome, but it consists essentially in the
renunciation of the earthly goods that have been given away.”
“ Poorness is a morally higher state than richness, and whoever
gives away any of his earthly goods as alms, he comes thereby
a step nearer the perfect state of living without property. ” 4
Begging, however, was not regarded as a shame; it had
become a sort of calling. “ It is not he who gives an alms
that does a service to the p oor; but, conversely, he performs
a service to the rich who asks him for a gift.” 6 And the
effect of alms increases with their amount. The more alms,
the more intercessors. Thus it is ultimately the work itself
which is estimated apart from the person. This is the
ultimate consequence of the old divergence from the path of
the Pauline knowledge.
1 In this sense Innocent I II ., in his D e eleemosyna, derives this word in an
extraordinary way from Eli = Deus, and Moys, quod est aqua, quod Deus per
eleemosynam maculas peccatorum eliminat et sordes abluit vitiorum. The
purpose of alms according to him is ut fiat propter beatitudinem ; and alms are,
in fact, better than fasting and prayer. Cf. Uhlhom, l.c. p. 138.
2 Gass, I c . 414. 3 Uhlhom, l.c.
* Uhlhom, l.c. p. 141. 5 Uhlhom, l.c.
§ 65. The Secular M orality}
The ascetic ideal of life could not but come into collision
with the actual reality of life and its claims, and thereby
call forth a reaction of the moral thinking in the secular
sense.
1. The collision between the ascetic ideal and the reality o f

its representatives.— If the Church was the Kingdom of God
Himself upon earth, and was thus the standard of all morality,
nevertheless the representation of the Church itself often
showed itself in very questionable opposition to morality.
The history of the papacy, the moral state of the Court at
Avignon, and the great schism, could not remain without an
impression. The more the papal absolutism grew, its dispen
sations from oaths and such like could not but confuse the
moral judgment, and lead to the loosening of it from the
external authority of the Church* The moral vreality of the
“ religiosi ” only too often conflicted with the ideal which
theory set up. The ever recurring decrees of the Synods
against unchastities and vices in the monasteries, and not less
so in the nunneries, give evidence of this. In the corrupted
state of the Church' many saw the preliminary signs of
Antichrist. Gerhoh2 (t 1169), Provost of Eeichersberg,
believed that “ the fourth night-watch” had already come.
What he relates about the conduct of the secular clergy in
his descriptions of morals,3 exceeds all conception. I f he
does not turn himself against monasticism, which is his ideal,
certain accusing voices were yet raised against it at the close
of the twelfth century. And what was passing before
men’s eyes was reflected in the sermons of earnest preachers.
Tauler’s sermons give us glimpses into the unedifying condition
of the monastic life and the melancholy state of the Church.4
1 Herm. Reuter, l.c. ii., in various places. Diestel, *‘ Der walsclie Gast,”
u. die Moral des 13 Jahrh., Allg. Monatschr. f. Wissensch. u. Liter, von
Droysen. Halle u. Braunscliw. Jahrg. 1854, pp. 687-714.
2 A. Yogel, P. R .-E .2 v. 101 f. Sturmhofel, G. v. Reich, iiber die Sittenzu-
stande der zeitgenoss. Geistlichkeit, Inaug. Dissert., Lpz. 1888.
3 In his Comm, on Ps. lxiv., and his De investigatione Antichristi.
4 So also Linsenmeyer, l.c. p. 429.
To him the “ Friends of God ” are the pillars of the world
and of the Church; “ and if these men were not in Christen
dom, the world would not stand an hour.”
2. The issue o f the Crusades, in which the ascetic enthusiasm
of the Middle Ages found such a powerful expression, exer
cised a strong reaction in the direction indicated. In the
sphere of Mahommedanism there had been disclosed a world
of manifold virtues. This called forth all sorts of critical
reflections. Is the world of morality not to be thought of as
independent of religion and Church, and as subsisting by
itself? Manifold influences of the Arabian philosophy also
worked in the way of loosening the mind from the authority
of the ecclesiastical dogmatism. A t the same time the
remembrance and cultivation of the ancient moral philosophy
had never died out. Seneca and Boethius continued to be
recognised as of great importance.
3. The popular Literature, as it was now developing itself,
supported this liberation of. the moral sphere from the eccle
siastical tutelage. The Troubadours in the south of France
took the side of the Albigenses against the Church; and they
stood for the free secular life against the alliance of ignorance
with ambition, and of vice with power.1 A more pious spirit
indeed prevailed in the German poetry of a Walter von der
Vogeliceide and in Freidank’s Bescheidenheit. But against the
corrupt churchism and the immorality of the priests, they also
raised their voices; and in their proverbial wisdom they
represented a morality that had really a religious foundation,
but was yet secularly free and joyous. Thus Freidank
sings:—
No one ever goes to hell
Through the food he uses w ell ;
And who his wife is right possessing,
He doth not therefore lose God’s blessing.
Again he sings of the Net with which St. Peter caught the
fishes, thus:—
He scorns the net who watches ;

The Roman net now catches
Land and castles, silver, gold,
St. Peter knew not such of old.
1 Reuter, l.c. ii. 59.

St. Peter was of right good breeding,
So God gave him His sheep for feeding ;
But never bade him shear the sheep,
Though now this shearing all must keep.—
Yet oft at Rome is false intent
Of which the Pope is innocent.
The last two lines he adds in a good-natured way, just as

Luther did in his first communication to Leo X. .We have
here on the whole a Christian morality working itself out,
which is quite different from the monkish ideal.
In the Parcim l we find the same position. Gurneman
teaches Parcival shame as the beginning of discipline (shame
lessness leads to hell), with mercy, gentleness, humility, and,
above all, the right measure, and loving women without waver
ing or false guile. Everywhere the moral factor steps out of
the sphere of ecclesiastical works, and the vita contemplativa
falls into the background behind the joyous fulfilment of the
worldly calling in marriage, etc. In like manner we find in
the “ Italian Guest of Thomasin of Circlaria ” that the monk
is not the ideal but the knight, the honest, pious, free m an;
and that the place does not at all make the virtue. Here too,
undoubtedly, morality rests upon the religious basis; for the
fear of God is represented as the basis of all virtue. The
Christian secular morality is in this respect distinguished
from the ancient morality, and likewise by its wider vision
for the whole circle of the moral tasks of the civil life.
4. There had thus gradually become disclosed a wide
sphere of real life, which could no longer be embraced under
the ecclesiastical rules; and along with this, there had also
become developed a feeling of the justification of the corre
sponding tasks of life with which those moral views no longer
agreed. For when logically carried out, such views could not
but make the fulfilment of the tasks of the earthly calling
impossible, and yet these tasks were necessary to human life.
An inner collision of feelings and an unsettlement of con
science could not but arise in consequence; and these could
not be overcome by the customary ecclesiastical means. It
was not merely that the national and political consciousness
had come in the conflict with the Church to assert itself in
Louis of Bavaria and Philip le Bel of France, in such strength
that the claim it made of an independent justification, was not
compatible with the claim of an unconditioned ecclesiastical
supremacy over the sphere of political life, but the fact was
that the latter sphere was continually withdrawing itself more
from the authority of the former. In like manner the civil
and social life was beginning to burst the bonds in which the
ecclesiastical rules had attempted to coniine it. The age of
the Crusades was past, and nothing more remained of the
earlier religious enthusiasm, although the effects of that great
movement made themselves felt. The circle of view had been
widened; the conception of the world had received a multi
tude of new views into i t ; and actual connections with the
East had been formed. The commerce of the Upper Italian
cities rested upon these connections, and it exercised a react
ing influence upon the city life of Germany. According to
the law of the Church, no intercourse or contract with un
believers was permissible, and yet this commerce was depen
dent upon such. Commerce had been generally regarded as a
questionable thing; but now men were compelled to put
themselves into a right relation to- the great commercial
activity.1 The previous order of society was founded upon
natural economic foundations; but with commerce the neces
sary exchange of money obtained an entirely new significance.
By means of it the possibility of acquisition and of the
accumulation of capital took shape in a way that was hitherto
unknown; and the whole form of the order of society was
compelled to modify itself in consequence. Labour neces
sarily came to be quite otherwise appreciated, and the judg
ment regarding the moral justification of acquisition had to
become altered. Then was the ecclesiastical prohibition of
the taking of interest compatible with the more developed
business life ? 21 There thus arose an internal collision of
judgments and feelings, which had manifold disturbances of
conscience as their consequence. W e find thus that the
minds of men at the close of the Middle Ages were haunted
in a peculiar degree by disturbances of conscience. It was
indeed believed that ecclesiastical performances and payments
1 On this and what follows, see H . Reuter, l.c. 54 ff., and Uhlhorn, l.c.
p. 325.
2 On the ground mainly of Luke vi. 35, established as a divine dogma by
Clement V. and the Synod of Vienne in 1311.
could purchase the right to those secular pursuits; and
attempts were made to settle the internal scruples by increased
performances of this kind. But these were at the best always
uncertain means; for the question was sure to arise, when
has enough been done ? And, again, how far is such a mode
of life generally justified in contrast to the highest authority
of the Church ? In this way it was not possible to get rid of
doubt. And yet the necessity of these forms of activity
became urgent; and therefore also the moral justification of
these kinds of calling involuntarily pressed itself on men’s
minds. Thus the moral thinking broke asunder into the
recognition of a secular morality, whose justification from the
ecclesiastical point of view yet seemed doubtful, and a higher
religious or ecclesiastical morality which was regarded as
preferable, and yet could not be universally carried out. The
moral consciousness had thus lost its unity. But it could not
continue in such a state of dividedness; and the fact
announced the coming of a new time. Various attempts to
reform the moral thinking and guidance of life endeavoured
to bring the required moral h elp; but they were all in vain,
because they did not begin at the point at which the aberra
tion had originally started.
§ 66. Oppositional tendencies and efforts at reform.
The increase of the power of the papacy and of the external

supremacy of the Church, was accompanied in the latter half
of the Middle Ages by a series of antagonistic currents and
movements which advanced in oppositional parallel lines.
These either denied the right of the Church itself and put
themselves on the basis of the Spirit, partly in a dualistic and
partly in a pantheistic sense, leading ultimately to the gnostic
justification of immorality ; or, in connection with the Church,
they sought in a more energetic return to its sources in Holy
Scripture for a reform of the ecclesiastical and moral life.
But as they did not deal with the ultimate ground of the
ecclesiastical aberration, they substituted for the ecclesiastical
legality of the Church only a legal assertion of Holy Scrip-
ture; and thus they were" not able to bring about a real
rectification and reform.
1. The work of Gregory YIT. was meant' as an attempt to

reform the Church on the basis o f the. ecclesiastical authority.
He sought to cure the moral injuries of the ecclesiastical life
by making the Church independent of the political power, or
rather making it supreme over that power. To raise the
papacy to absolute supremacy within the Church, to raise the
Church to supremacy over the State, and to raise the Church
as concentrated in the papacy to supremacy over the world:
these were the three stages of the thought of Gregory which
Innocent III. tried to bring to realization, and which Boni
face V III. sought to establish in the sharpest form. But the
reality ran counter to the idea; and thus the resulting collision
only served to undeceive the thoughts of the Christian peoples
with reference to that ideal, and to prepare the soil for oppo
sitional currents. The ascetic thought of the Following of
Christ, especially in the form of poverty, as it was embodied
above all in Francis of Assisi, intended at first to put itself
only into the service of the supremacy of the Church. But in
appealing to the decision of the people themselves, it awakened
in them independent religious thoughts and reflections, which
might just as well take up an attitude of opposition to the
external Church as work in its service. W e thus see the
second half of the Middle Ages filled with religious move
ments which partly took external form in associations, or
furnished a basis and material for movements and associations
that had an earlier origin.
2. Dualistic tendencies.— Several heretical communities had
already represented a dualistic asceticism. The Paulicians 1
in the East present an instance. Starting from the gnosis
of Marcion, they modified the consequences of its funda
mental dualistic views by means of Pauline elements, and
they admitted marriage and the use of flesh, but otherwise
they stood in sheer opposition to the Church and to its legal
character. The remains of this party passed over into other
dualistic tendencies and societies, and probably they were
absorbed in the Bogomils who spread from Bulgaria into the
1 C. Schmidt, P. R .-E .2 xi. 343 if., where the literature is indicated.
West, "and wlio formed a gnostic dualistic sect which rejected
the ceremonies of the Church, laid stress on prayer, and
required a rigid asceticism with abstinence from marriage
and the use of flesh. They formed a constituent part of the
Cathari1 (surnamed “ Heretics ”), who spread from the Slavs
in the regions of the Danube over the south of Europe and
into the north of Italy and the south of France ; and they
stood in decided hostility to the ruling Church. On a
dualistic basis, they required (at least for the perfecti) the
greatest possible abstinence from everything that is material,
and above all from sexual union, the partaking of flesh, and
all kinds of possession. From an erroneous interpretation of
the words of Scripture, they also rejected all taking of oaths
and killing in war; and they even regarded the “ jus gladii”
of the magistrate as a deadly sin. This rigorism again led
in the case of others, such as the so-called Luciferians, into
the opposite extreme of an antinomian libertinism. In spite
of the most cruel persecutions, especially in the Albigensian
wars, these parties continued to maintain themselves till the
fourteenth century.
3. Antinomian tendencies on a pantheistic basis. — The
pantheistic elements in Scotus Erigena were developed
in Amalrich o f B ena2 (t c. 1205), in opposition to the
dualism of the Church, which opposes the spiritual and
secular to each other in an external manner; and it was
carried out by him into a decided pantheism with the motto,
“ God is all.” The ethical consequence of this system was a
renewal of the Antinomianism of the Gnostics. “ The thesis
of Amalrich, that no sin is imputed to those who stand in
love, receives its interpretation in the principle of the
Amalricans, that to those who live in the spirit fornication
and other defilement do not become sin, because that spirit
[as which God has revealed Himself in the Amalricans] is
God, and it remains unaffected by the flesh and cannot sin.” 3
This tendency found its continuation in the Brothers and
1 Steude, Ztschr. f. K.-Gesch. v. (1881) 1. C. Schmidt, P. R .-E. vii. 616 if.
2 Kronlein, Amalr. v. B. und David v. Dinant., Theol. Stud. u. Kyit. 1847,
271 ff. Hahn, Gesch. der Ketzer im M .-A . iii. 176 ff. Preger, Gesch. d.
deutsch. Myst. i. 167 if., 173 if. Herm. Reuter, Gesch. d. relig. Aufkl. im
M .-A . ii. 218 if.
3 Preger, P. R .-E .2 i. 325. Reuter, l.c. p. 230.
Sisters o f the Free Spirit,1 who were widely spread in the
thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. As God is all, one
needs only to be conscious of unity with Him in order to
be in the state of perfection and freedom in which there is
no longer any sin. In contrast to this freedom, everything
of the nature of a positive rule must be abrogated. Where
the Spirit of God is, there is liberty. The popular distinction
between good and evil appears to the more advanced as an
illusory limitation. This libertine antinomianism was a
rejoinder to the nomism of the mediaeval Church, and it
continued to maintain itself down to the time of the
Reformation.
Ortliel· of Strasburg in the beginning of the thirteenth
century2 drew similar consequences from the pantheistic
premises of Amalrich. He found a considerable number
of adherents called Ortliebians, who, on the ground of the
internal revelation of the Spirit of God, rejected the Church
with its literalism and legalism. From this there resulted
an indifference towards all outward manifestation and
practice of morality, as well as the rejection of marriage.
The Ortliebians were resolved into the Brethren of the
Free Spirit. The Beghards and Beguins were another class
who, in the form of a cloistral but free union, organized
themselves into a living association of labour, service, and
pious meditation. They recall the Tertiarians of the
Franciscan order. They were specially spread in the
Netherlands. In their quiet piety they were a source of
considerable blessing; but they did not escape the distrust
of the ecclesiastical authorities, and they were certainly not
unfrequently a refuge for heretical elements.
4. These dualistic and pantheistic sects and tendencies
opposed a gnostic Christianity of knowledge to the practical
Christianity of the Church, and they thus came even to
reject the Church itself. On the other hand, the Waldenses3
1 Halm, Gesch. der Ketzer u. s. w. ii. 420 ff. Jundt, Histoire du panth&sme
populaire au moyen 5ge et au seizieme sitscle, Paris 1875. H . Reuter, a. a. 0 .
p. 242 if.· Rossmann, Betrachtungen liber das Zeitalter der Reformation, Jena
1858, p. 66 ff. C. Schmidt, P. R .-E .2 ii. 677 f.
2 Preger, i. 191 if. C. Schmidt, P. R .-E .2 xi. 119 f.
3 Preger : Waldesians because from Waldes ; on this see Herzog in P. R.-E.
1 Aufl. xvii. 502-547, where the literature up to that date is given ; and 2 Aufl.
mark— at least at the beginning— an attempt to reform the
Christian life of the people within the Church and its
ecclesiastical views. Their ruling thought was the ideal
of the apostolical life as they understood it from Matt. x.
and Luke xviii. Their idea was to reproduce it in the
manner of the time as ascetic renunciation of the world, and
to liberate the soul, through voluntary poverty and non
possession, from the chains that bind men to the world and
from selfishness, by an imitation of the wandering life of the
apostles and of Jesus Christ.1 It was therefore at bottom0
the monastic ideal o f perfection in the ruling Church which
hovered before the minds of the Waldenses, only that they
proclaimed it as itinerating apostolic preachers in the form of
a popular preaching of repentance. It was not till afterwards
that they came thereby into opposition to the Church, and
that they combined into a special hierarchical organization.
In going back for their proclamation of the Gospel to the
Scriptures as the only rule of the faith and life of the Church,
in opposition to the deciding authority of the ecclesiastical
tradition, their whole way o f thinking led to their viewing
the Scriptures as a legal prescription of the external conduct
of life. The New Testament was to them the “ law of
Christ;” and they expounded it as the inviolable standard
of life, only without the ceremonies of the Old Testament
and the papal Decrees. Thus they rejected on the one side
the ecclesiastical doctrine 'o f the atoning significance of
ecclesiastical works, fastings, alms, and prayers, and recog
nised these only as purifying means of discipline,2 denied
the meritoriousness of works generally; and rejected the
fast - days and festivals of the Church, observing only
Sunday.3 On the other hand, they believed that the
xvi. 610-638, by Comba. In addition to Herzog, Dieckhoff, Preger (Beitr. zur
Gesch. der Waldesier. Miinch. Akad. der Wissensch. 1875), see especially K.
Muller, Die Wald. u. ihre einzelnen Gruppen bis z. Anfang des 14 Jahrh., Gotba
1887. Partly against Muller, see Preger, Ueber das Yerhalt. der Taboriten zu den
Waldesiern des 14 Jahrh. Abh. .der Miinch. Akad. der Wissen. 1887 (11), p. 41.
1 But with the difference between the French Waldenses, whose itinerating
preachers had to be unmarried, and the Italian and German-Austrian Waldenses,
whose itinerating preachers might be married.
2 ----- quod quandocunque Deus dimittit culpam, dimittet et poenam, in
Preger, Ueber das Yerhalt. u. s. w. 1887, p. 94.
3 Preger, l.c. p. 95.
taking of an oath and killing were absolutely forbidden by
Scripture, so that even the right over life was taken from
the magistrate. And along with this they saw the highest
.perfection in poverty and celibacy, and in a supposed return
to the apostolical ideal. No less than the Eoman Church, to
which they became opposed, did they lack the knowledge of the
righteousness of faith, and cdtisequently the right understand
ing of Scripture, so that they did hot know how to separate
purely the spiritual and the secular. But they were always
led gradually on from the letter of the Scripture; and they ulti
mately put themselves under the influence of the Eeformation.
5. This legal way of thinking also ruled the other so-called
Precursors o f the Eeformation} The principle repeatedly
enounced from of old and established by Francis of Assisi,
that the Sermon on the Mount is the Gospel of Jesus Christ
and should rule the public life, was maintained also by these
heralds of the Eeformation. This holds also of the always
more correct movement which proceeded from W iclif and
which passed to Bohemia. In his doctrine of virtue, W iclif
follows the customary division into the four cardinal
virtues and the three theological virtues. Yet he does it
in such a way that, after earlier examples, he saw in
humility the root and in love the soul of all Christian
virtue; and in his exposition of its theological stages up to
its highest form of wholly selfless love to God for the sake of
Himself, he attached himself especially to Bernard of Clair-
vaux. W iclif considers that love to our neighbour results
from this love to God, and he accentuates in regard to the
former the right order which it observes, and the duties of
the calling which is assigned to every one by G o d ; and
thereby he indicates a fruitful reformatory point of view in
estimating the moral task.2 In connection with this view,
he also repudiates the doctrine that the evangelical counsels
are not obligatory on every Christian.3 According to the
1 G. Lecliler, Joh. v. W icl. u. die Vorgesch. der Reformation, 2 Bde., Lpz.
1873, especially i. 528 if. [John W iclif and liis English Precursors, transl. by
Lorimer, 2 vols. 1878.]
2 Liber mandatorum (decalogus), c. 23 : Faciat ergo quodlibet membrum
ecclesise, quod incumbit officio sui status, etc., Lechler, i. 531.
3 Omne consilium Christi obligat quemcunqiie. De civili dominio, ii. 13.
Lechler, i. 533.
habit of the time, he reckons these counsels as twelve, includ
ing among them the obligation not to take an oath. It
appears from this that his recognition of the divine right of
the natural condition of life, was still quite obscured in the
mediaeval way by a legal attitude towards the word of Scripture.
Thus, too, he saw the ideal of the State in a commonwealth
in which the place of private property is taken by the com
munism of love which rules the whole.1 In Wiclif, as in
all the mediaeval attempts at reform, the Gospel is made
into a law. It was reserved for Luther, on the basis of
his fundamental knowledge of the righteousness of faith, to
recognise the right distinction between them, and to estab
lish it in opposition to the fanatical attempts at reform
in his time, which sought to translate that error into
practice.
6. Hus, in dependence on Wiclif, also regarded the Holy
Scripture as the “ law of Christ,” and in this sense the “ evan-
gelica lex ” was to him the authoritative standard for the
regulation of the Christian life.12 The radical Hussites, going
beyond Hus himself, like the Waldenses, rejected the ecclesiasti
cal works of penance as having no atoning efficacy, and they
repudiated the fast-days and festivals of the Church,3 while at
the same time they maintained the word of Scripture itself to
be the external law for the civil life. In consequence of this,
they rejected oaths and capital punishment,4 and the Taborites
drew the conclusion from this fundamental view, that the
divine law should take the place of the heathen (Eoman and
German) law, and should be the standard for administration
and justice.5 And thus, too, the later “ Bohemian Brethren,”
who called themselves “ Brethren of the Law of Christ,” from
their falsely legal principle of Scripture, declared war and the
power of the sword to be absolutely forbidden by the law of
Christ for the faithful Christian; and they even declared the
undertaking of political offices to be unallowed, and the
swearing of an oath to be a sin.6 They thus mixed up the
spiritual and secular with each other; and they held fast to
1 Tunc necessitaretux respublica redire ad politiam evangelicam, habens omnia

in communi. De civ. Dom. ii. 16. Lechler, i. 600.
2 Lechler, ii. 236. 3 Preger, l.c. 4 Lechler, ii. 292.
5 Lechler, ii. 471. 6 Lechler, ii. 509.
VOL. I. 2B
the celibacy of the priests.1 Doubtless a relaxation of this
severity gradually arose; and mediating views, such as those
of Procop of Neuhaus, asserted themselves, which allowed
riches and political offices, and thus made an approach to the
world possible.
7. John o f Goch concurred in W iclif’s later polemic against
monasticism. This is especially seen in his Dialogus de
quattuor erroribus,1 23 in which he represented the Gospel as
“ law,” but, at the same time, as a law of the liberty of love
and of the heart. He directed his polemic against the
unevangelical legalism which had early been admitted into
the Church, and especially against the necessity or meritori
ousness of vows. A vow may be a help to the weak, but
there is nothing good in it in itself. The monks wrongly
call their order a “ state of perfection,” as in fact they are the
imperfect. Internal holiness is the highest perfection; it is
higher than any perfection of “ made religions.” The clear
distinction between justification and sanctification was not
reached by h im ; and it is even lacking in John Wesself the
most evangelical of all the precursors of the Eeformation.
Por in his view what justifies is at bottom love, i.e. infused
righteousness. Thus he also shares with scholasticism its
basis of the “ fides caritate formatur,” although to the exclusion
of all merit. Prom this root all the ethical errors of the
Eoman Church might again grow forth at any time. It was
Luther’s knowledge that first went to the bottom of the error;
and by his renovation of the Biblical knowledge of the right
eousness of faith, he securely established Christian morality in its
relationship to God, as well as to the secular life of the world.
That knowledge alone was able to protect the Church from
the danger of a new form of heathenism which threatened it
from the circles of Humanism.
1 Lechler, ii. 513. On the “ Bohemian Brethren,” cf. v. Zezschwitz, P. R .-E .2

ii. 648 if.
2 See Lechler, ii. 516 ff. Ullmann, Reformat, vor d. Reform, i. 17 if. [Re
formers before the Reformation, T. & T. Clark.]
3 Lechler, ii. 529. Ullmann, ii. 239 if. H. Schmidt in P. R .-E .2 xvii. 791 if.
§ 67. Humanism.1
The secular way of thinking, characteristic of antiquity,

found its most influential expression in opposition to the
ecclesiastico-ascetic thinking in Humanism, which threatened
the Church with a new heathenism of culture— a danger
which was only averted by the Eeformation in its own sphere.
The knowledge of the Roman antiquity had never wholly

died out in the West. In the fourteenth century, Dante and
Petrarca referred to it with renewed emphasis, while Boccaccio
also drew attention to the Greeks. The advancing decline
and ultimate overthrow of the Greek Empire, with the fall of
Constantinople, brought many learned Greeks to Ita ly ; and
they reanimated the study of Greek, and kindled and diffused
a new zeal for classical Greece. This striving to return to
the sources of spiritual culture could not but enter into
opposition with scholasticism and its dependence on secondary
sources. The appreciation of Christianity itself, in its original
form, could promote or hinder it according to the attitude of
mind towards it and the strength of the inner impulse of
truth. The effect of Humanism in Germany was to promote
Christianity, but the opposite was predominantly its atti
tude in Italy. The enthusiasm with which the comparatively
new discovered spiritual world of antiquity was greeted in
wide circles in Italy, and its study cultivated, caused that
world to appear in an ideal light in contrast to the supersti
tion and ceremonialism of the Church; and to live in it
appeared as the highest form of spiritual life. The philoso
phical as well as the moral thinking of the ancient world
was thus renewed. Petrarca (t 1374) paid homage to the
thought of the Stoics, and Marcilius Ficinus (f 1499), a
follower of Plato, and the Platonic Academy, founded in
1 Voigt, Die Wiederbelebung des klassischen Alterthums, 2 Bde., 2 Aufl.,

Berl. 1882-83. Burckhardt, Die Kultur der Renaissance in Italien, Basel
1860, Bd. 1. Gieseler, ii. 4, § 154. K. v. Raumer, Gesch. der Padag. i., 2
Aufl. 1846, pp. 37-65. Pasqual-Villari, Savonarola, iibers. v. Verduschek.
i. 1868; on Lorenzo Medici, p. 23 if. Gregorovius, Lukretia Borgia, i. 1870 ;
on the moral state of the period of the Renaissance, p. 89 f. Gass, Gesch. der
christl. Ethik, it 1, p. 1 if.
Florence by Gemistus Pletho in 1440, put Plato and Neo-
Platonism straightway in the place of Christ and Christianity.
Laurentius Yalla, again, proclaimed his allegiance to the
philosophy of Epicurus. The consequence of all this was
the renewal of the ancient moral way of thinking, which
declared the natural in itself to be moral. This gave rise to
a paganism such as Erasmus saw reviving in Home, and a
heathenism which ruled in wide circles, and even asserted
itself in literature and in the moral conduct of life. Even
paederasty was revived with the ancient heathenism, and
along with it came the glorification of the most immoral
liberty.1 A t the same time, an external attitude was taken
up in connection with the ceremonies of the Church; nor
could the mechanism of the Koman Church become inwardly
master of this heathenism. It was only able to unchurch
it externally ; or it set up a mysticism in opposition to it
which itself had heathen roots, and whose mentally deadening
asceticism was in many respects itself nothing more than a glow
of sensual feeling. It belongs to the merits of the Reformation,
that it averted this danger of a paganizing of Christendom by
its return to the original powers of the moral life, and that
it opened up to it the fountain of another moral spirit. This
merit also belongs to the Ethics of the Reformation, whereas
the Roman Church continued to move upon the old paths, and
sought on that way to obtain the mastery of the world in the
service of the Church.
1 See, for instance, Gregorovius, Lc. “ After the first breach with the
Middle Ages and their ascetic Church had been completed in the Renaissance,
an unlimited emancipation of the passions came in. A ll that had been regarded
as sacred, was laughed at. The Italian Freethinkers produced a literature
which, for naked Cynicism, had nowhere its like. From the Hermaphrodite
of Beccadelli down to Berin and Pietro Aretino, there stretches out a literary
marsh at the sight of which the earnest Dante would have shuddered as at the
Stygian pool. Even in the less lascivious novels and the less obscene comedies,
the dominant motive is always adultery and ridicule of marriage. The hetaera
became the Muse of the aesthetic literature of the Renaissance. She was put
boldly side by side with the saints of the Church. The saints of Heaven and the
nymphs of Venus were placed beside each other as celebrated women.— Selfish
ness and heartless preying upon men and the relations of life, were nowhere so
much in vogue as in the fatherland of Macchiavelli.”— “ Luther could never
have arisen among the Italians.” — For further testimonies of this kind, see
Luthardt’s Apologetic Lectures on the Fundamental Truths o f Christianity, in
App. to Lect. i., 7th ed., T. & T. Clark.

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KIASCEN

ft*R. AND MRS- 'W,U’IAW Λ νβ.

Utitfjartit’s f^fetorg of Christian

T. & '\ CLARK, EDINBURGH,

LONDON, . . . . . HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND 0 0 ,

CHRISTIAN ETHI CS,

DE. CHR. ERNST LUTHARDT,

^Translated from tbe German

T. & T. CLARK, EDINBURGH,

LONDON, . . . . . . . HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND 0 0 ,

N EW Y O R K , ..........................SCRIBNER AND WELFORD,

CHRISTIAN ETHI CS,

DR. CHR. ERNST LUTHARDT,

{Translated from tbe German

A mong the many obligations which contemporary Christen­

1 A good deal might be said regarding the comparative neglect or superficial

I. T he Popular E thical I deas of the G reeks

II. T he Philosophical S ystems of E thics

§ 2. Socrates and Plato, . . . . . 7

III. T he P opular M oral P h ilo so ph y :—

§ 5. Cicero and Seneca, . * . . . 1 4

§ 7. Neo-Pythagoreanism and Neo-Platonism, . . 19

V. T he D ifference between the A ncient E thics and the

§ 8. The Limitations of the Ancient Ethics in contrast to

I. T he E thics of the O ld T estament :—

§ 10. T he distinguishing Character o f the Ethics o f Israel, 33

§ 12. The Covenant-relationship, . . . . 40

II. T he Particularistic N omism :—

§ 16. The Pharisaic Nomism, . . . 6 1

III. T he H ellenistic U niversalism :—

§ 18. Transition to the False Universalism, . . 67

3. Influences and M otives, . . . . 68

§ 19. The Philonic Universalism, . . . . 69

HISTORY OF CHRISTIAN ETHICS.

THE ETHICS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.

I. T he Proclamation of the T ruth in the G ospels : —

§ 20. The Realization o f Communion and Fellowship with

§ 21. The Human Answrer of Faith, . . . 80

§ 22. The new Disposition of Faith, . . . 82

§ 23. T he new Order o f things in the K ingdom of God, . 87

§ 24. The Jewish-Christian Proclamation, . . . 94

§ 25. The Gentile-Christian Proclamation, . . . 96

§ 26. The Johannine Proclamation, . . . 102

I. THE ETHICS OF THE ANCIENT CHURCH.

I. T he E thics of the P ost-A postolic C h u r c h :—

§ 27. The blunted Paulinism of the Post-Apostolic Church, 107

§ 28. The oldest Post - Apostolic Formulation of Moral

§ 29. The Apostolic Fathers, . . . . 1 1 8

§ 30. The Ethics of the Apologists of the Second Century, 128

§ 31. The Ethics of the Alexandrian Theology, .. . 134

§ 33. The Gnostic Ethics, * . . . . .151

A ppendix .— M anich ^eism .

§ 34. The Monastic and M ystico-Ascetic Ideal in the Ethics

§ 35. The Representatives of the Ascetic Ideal in the Greek

7. Marcarius the Great, . . . . 1 7 0

III. T he E thics op the W estern Ch u r c h : —

§ 38. T h e Ethics o f the W estern Church in the tim e o f its

§ 42. The Ethics of the W estern Church in the time of its

§ 43. The Ethics of the W estern Church in the time of its

§ 44. The fruitless Opposition, . . . . 234

§ 45. Representatives of the Ascetic Ideal, . . . 236

§ 46. The Conclusion of the Ethics o f the W estern Church

H is Ethics. On the principal Vices and Virtues, 247

A mong the many obligations which contemporary Christen

§ 59. Ethics in the Beginning of the Dissolution of Scho

G. T . M eier , Introductio in universum theologiae moralis cum dog

T he distinguishing character of the Ethics of the Old Testa