In investigating the problem of human life, Eucken lays great stress upon the history of man in past ages—this is one of the special aspects of his philosophy. The fact is, of course, not surprising; he who would explain the life of man would be unwise to ignore the records of the past life of the human race. The thinker who examines the present only, is apt to be narrow in his ideas, to fail to look upon events in their proper perspective, and to be unduly affected by the spirit of the age in which he lives—the student of history avoids these pitfalls.
Moreover, man does not become aware of the depth of his own soul, until he has "lived into" the experience of the past. This is what the profound investigator of history does; he lives again the life of the hero, he feels with him as he felt upon special occasions, and in this way there is revealed to him a profundity and greatness of human experience, of which he would have been largely unaware if he had trusted to his own experience alone, and to the superficial examination he is able to make of the experiences of those living men with whom he comes into contact. In this way he is able in a sense to appropriate the experience of the greatest personalities unto himself, and enrich considerably the contents of his own soul.
Through a study of history, too, we become aware of the intimate connection that exists between the present and the past. The present moment is a very transient thing; its roots are in the past, its hopes in the future. "If all depends on the slender thread of the fleeting moment of the present, which illumines and endures merely for a twinkling of an eye, but to sink into the abyss of nothingness, then all life would mean a mere exit into death.... Without connection there is no content of life." We are apt to look on the past as something dead, but it exists in living evidence in our souls to-day. It oppresses us or stimulates us to action, it tyrannises over us or inspires us to higher things. It has been customary to look upon the past as irrevocable. Recent writers, of whom Maeterlinck and Eucken are striking instances, have endeavoured to show how the past can be remoulded and changed. The past depends upon what we make of it to-day; if we despise our evil conduct in former days, then the past itself is changed and conquered. The mistake that is made is to regard the past as a thing complete in itself; what appears to be finished is really only completing itself, and we must take a view of the whole of a thing, and not merely the parts that have already manifested themselves. Through such considerations we become more and more aware of the ultimate connection between the past and present, and of the part the present can play in the remaking of the past.
Our investigations of history leads us, too, to differentiate between the temporary and the eternal in the realm of thought. We find at a certain period of history a trend of thought that can largely be accounted for by the special conditions of life at the time, and which disappears at a later age. But in addition to this we become aware of truths that have found a place in the thoughts of various ages and countries, and we are led to regard these as the eternal truths—expressions of an eternal ever-present reality. This eternal present we find to be something independent of time, something that breaks the barriers between the past, present, and future. "Thought," says Eucken, "does not drift along with time; as certainly as it strives to attain truth it must rise above time, and its treatment must be timeless." The beliefs of any age are too much coloured by the special circumstances of that age to express the whole of truth, yet beneath the beliefs of the ages there is often an underlying truth, and this underlying truth is the eternal truth, which is not affected by time, and at the basis of which is the eternal reality.
This eternal truth persisting through a variety of temporary and more or less correct expressions of it is to be observed in a marked manner in the moral ideas of mankind. What a variety of ethical doctrines have been expounded and believed, yet how striking the similarity that becomes apparent when they are further examined! In practice, the standard of morality has often been based on mere utility, but it has taken a higher and more absolute basis in the mind of man. Ideas concerning morality have generally been nobler than can be accounted for by environment, and by the subjective life of the individual. Why this ultimate consistency in the moral aspirations of the ages, why a categorical imperative, and why does conscience exist in the human being?—these facts cannot be accounted for if there is no deeper basis for life than the life of humanity at any definite period of time.
The unchangeable laws of logic, too, are instances of the eternal truth. The principles of the validity of thought are entirely independent of individuals, of the passage of time, and of the environment of man. "Our thought cannot advance in the definite work of building up science without producing and employing a definite logical structure, with fixed principles; these principles are immanent in the work of thought, they are above all the caprice and all the differences of the individuals." Whence again this consistency in a changeable and subjective world?
The marvellous influence that ideas have exerted upon man again points to the persistence and power of the eternal. Is it not strange how it is that man often serves but as a mere instrument for the realisation of an idea, and how he is often carried away by an idea to do things which are against his own personal interests and desires? And when he and his generation have passed beyond human sight, we often find a new generation direct their endeavours in the same way, and we wonder what is behind such a continuity in the struggles of mankind.
The history of great personalities in the realms of literature, art, and science show in a remarkable way how men have risen above the influences of their time, and beyond the cramping tiredness of the mere flesh. Could a great thinker like Aristotle be entirely conditioned by flesh and environment? And what of the great artists and poets who have conquered the chains of mortal finitude and breathed of higher worlds? Every one of them is a convincing testimony of the possibility of mankind transcending the material, and taking unto itself of the resources of a deeper world.
Then the dissatisfaction of the ages with their limited knowledge of truth cannot but tell of a great eternal something that stirs at the basis of the human soul. The people of to-day find the various systems of the day inadequate; they search for something higher, and the mere fact that they search beyond matter and the mere subjective human qualities is in itself a testimony to the existence of a world higher than the material and subjective.
What is it that makes it possible for one human being to "live into" the experience of others who lived long ago, and for the present to conquer and alter the past? How can we account for the eternal trait in thought, for the unchanging laws of logic, for the consistency of moral ideals, and their transcendence over flesh and immediate circumstances? What is the force behind the idea, and how can we account for the continuous struggle of mankind in certain directions? And, finally, what is it that makes it possible for men to rise beyond themselves, to shake away the shackles of matter and vicinity, and to delve deep into the profounder world?
If we can find what it is that makes all this possible, then surely we have found the greatest thing in the world—the reality. And Eucken's answer is clear and definite. It must be something that persists, is eternal and independent of time, and it must extend beyond the individual to a universal whole. This must be "the Universal Spiritual Life," which, though eternal, reveals itself in time, and though universal, reveals itself in the individual man, and forms the source from which the spiritual in man "draws its power and credentials."
This, then, is the result of Eucken's search for reality—he has found it to exist in a Universal Spiritual Life. Of course he has not arrived at his conclusion by a system of rigid proof; it has already been pointed out how impossible it is to arrive at the greater truths of life in such a manner.
He has done, however, that which can be reasonably expected in such cases. To begin with, he has given us a striking analysis of the essential characteristics of human life, and he has found there a yearning and a void. He has given us a masterly discussion of eternal truth as contrasted with the temporary expressions of it. He has taught us how the present can overcome the past, and how man can ascend beyond the subjective and material. And he has led us to feel that reality must lie in the eternal that appears to be at the basis of the highest and greatest in man.
Moreover, he has given a fair and thorough treatment of the solutions that have been offered in the past. He has shown how inadequate they are to explain life. He has shown how the modern solutions "cannot perform their own tasks without drawing incessantly upon another kind of reality, one richer and more substantial." This in itself shows "beyond possibility of refutation that they do not fill the whole of life." He has demonstrated how the acceptance of these systems depends upon an implicit acceptance of a higher life. "The naturalistic thinker ascribes unperceived to nature, which to him can be only a coexistence of soulless elements, an inner connection and a living soul. Only thus can he revere it as a higher power, as a kind of divinity; only thus can he pass from the fact of dependence to a devotional surrender of his feelings. The socialist bases human society, with its motives mixed with triviality and passion, on an invisible community, an ideal humanity.... The individualist in his conception exalts the individual to a height far more lofty than is justified by the individual as he is found in experience." All these assume more or less unconsciously the existence of that "something higher" which they attempt to deny.
So far, then, we have seen how Eucken proves the inadequacy of the realistic conceptions of life, and how they really depend for their acceptance upon the assumption of a Universal Spiritual Life. We have still to see how he attempts to prove that basing human life upon an eternal spiritual life satisfies the conditions he himself has laid down for a satisfactory solution of the problem. He has to show that the theory gives a satisfactory explanation of human life, that it gives a firm basis for life, that it releases man from being governed by low motives, and admits of the possibility of human personality, freedom, and creation. We shall see in the chapters that follow that he makes a convincing case for accepting the belief in the Universal Spiritual Life as the basis of human life and endeavour.
Eucken makes the recognition of the existence of a Universal Spiritual Life the starting-point of his constructive work. He takes up a position which he calls the nöological position. Many theories take up a materialistic position; they assert the reality of the material world, and endeavour to explain the world of matter as something independent of the human mind. Other theories assert the superiority of mind over matter, and endeavour to examine the mind as though it were independent of the material world. These two types of theories have been in continual conflict; the one has attempted to prove that thought is entirely conditioned by sense impressions received from the material world, the other regards the phenomena of nature as really nothing other than processes of the mind.
Eucken finds reality existing in the spiritual life, which while neither material nor merely mental, is superior to both, admits the existence (in a certain sense) of both, and does away with the opposition between the rival types of theories. Eucken does not minimise or ignore the existence of the natural world. The question for him is not the independent existence of the worlds of nature and mind—this he admits; he is concerned rather with the superiority of the spiritual life over the merely material and mental.
The natural life of man has been variously viewed in different ages. The writer of the Pentateuch described man as made in the image of God, and the natural man was exalted on this account. Some of the old Greek philosophers, too, found much in nature that was divine. Christianity took a different view of the matter—it exalted the spirit, and emphasised the baseness of the material. The growth of the sciences made man again a mere tool of laws and methods, but it considered matter as superior to mind, mind being entirely dependent upon impressions received from matter. The question continually recurs—which is the high, which is the low? Shall nature triumph over spirit, or spirit over nature?
Pantheism replies to the question by denying that there is anything high as distinguished from the low. There is but one; and that one—the whole universe—is God. There is no evil in the world, says pantheism, everything is good—if we could understand things as they really are we should find no oppositions in the universe, and no contradictions in the nature of things. The world as it is, is the best of all possible worlds—there is perfect harmony, though we fail to appreciate it. Other optimistic theories, too, deny the existence of evil and pain, and try to explain our ideas of sin to be mere "points of view." If we could see the whole, they tell us, we should see how the parts harmonise, but now we only see some of the parts and fail to appreciate the harmony. In this way they try to explain away as unreal the phenomena of evil and pain.
But Eucken has no patience with such theories. For him the oppositions and contradictions of life are too real and persistent. The antagonisms "stir us with disgust and indignation." Evil cannot be considered trivial, and must not be glossed over; it is in the world, and the more deeply we appreciate the fact the better it will be for the human soul.
Man in his lower stages of development is just a child of nature, and his standards of life are those of the lower world. He seeks those things that satisfy the senses, he attempts the satiation of the lower cravings. In the realm of morals his standard is utility—that is good which helps him to obtain more pleasure and to avoid pain. In social life his conduct is dictated by custom—this is the highest appeal. The development of man along the lines of nature ends at this point—and if nothing more is to happen, then he must remain at a low level of development. Matter and mind cannot take him beyond—the mind as such only helps towards the further satisfaction of the lower demands of man.
But there is something far greater in highly developed manhood than the petty and selfish. Man is capable of conceiving and adopting higher standards of morality than those of utility and pleasure, and it is the spiritual life that enables him to do this. It is the spiritual that frees the individual from the slavery of the sense world—from his selfishness and superficial interests—that teaches him to care less for the things of the flesh, and far more for the beautiful, the good, and the true, and that enables him to pursue high aims regardless of the fact that they may entail suffering and loss in other directions. This, then, is the "High" in the world; the natural life is the "Low."
But what is the relation of the natural to the spiritual life? In the first place, the spiritual cannot be derived from the natural, inasmuch as the former is immensely superior to the latter, and that not merely in degree, but in its very essence. The spiritual is entirely on a higher plane of reality, and there cannot be transition from the natural to the spiritual world. The natural has its limitations, and beyond these cannot go. So far as the natural world is concerned man can never rise above seeking for pleasure, and making expediency and social approbation the standards of life, hence there is little wonder that those ethical teachers who make nature their basis, deny the possibility of action that is unselfish and free. "The Spiritual Life," however, as Eucken says, "has an independent origin, and evolves new powers and standards."
Neither do the two aspects run together in life in parallel lines. On the contrary, the spiritual life cannot manifest itself at all until a certain stage of development is reached in nature. It would seem impossible to conceive of the animal rising above its animal instincts and tendencies; its whole life is conditioned by its animal nature and its environment. Man stands at the junction of the stages between the purely natural and the purely spiritual. On the one hand, he is a member of the animal world, he has its instincts, its desires and its limitations; on the other hand, he has within him the germ of spirituality. He belongs to both worlds, the natural and the spiritual. He cannot shake off the natural and remain a man—to separate the two means death to man as we know him. But there is a great difference between his position in the natural world and his position in the spiritual world. He seems to be the last word in the world of nature, he has reached heights far beyond those reached by any other flesh and blood. He is, so far as we know, the culminating point of natural evolution—the final possibility in the natural world. But the stage of nature only represents the first stage in the development of the universe.
There is an infinitely higher stage of life, the spiritual life. And if man is the final point of progress in the world of nature, he is, in his primitive state, only at the threshold of the spiritual world. But he is not an entire stranger to the spiritual—the germ is in him, and the spiritual is consequently not an alien world for him. If the spiritual were something entirely foreign it would be vain to expect much progress through mere impulses from without. On the contrary, it is the spiritual that makes man really great, and is the most fundamental part of his nature.
The two stages of life, then, are present in man—the natural and the spiritual; the former highly developed, the latter, at first, in an undeveloped state.
Now the great aim of the universe is to pass gradually from the natural to the spiritual plane of life. This does not mean that the latter is the product of the former stage, for this is not the case. It means that the deeper reality in life is the spiritual, and that the spiritual develops through the natural in its own particular way. And this particular way is not a mere development but a self-development. The aim of the spiritual is to develop its own self through the human being. In this way man is given the possibility of developing a self—a personality in a very real sense.
Thus we arrive at some idea of the relation there exists between the spiritual and the natural, and of the place of the spiritual and the natural in man. The spiritual is neither the product nor an attribute of the natural. Man is the border creature of the two worlds; he represents the ultimate possibility of the one, and possesses potentialities in regard to the other. The great object of his life must be to develop, through making use of and conquering the life of nature, his higher self into a free, spiritual, and immortal personality. The progressive stages in this direction must be dealt with in the next chapter.
In the previous chapter we found that man in his primitive stage is largely a creature of the lower world. His desires are those of the animal kingdom, his ideal is utility, and social approbation his God. At this stage he is a mere nothing, no better than a slave to his passions and to the opinions of his fellow-beings. He possesses neither freedom nor personality—for he is but a tool in the hands of other impulses and forces. There is no controlling self—he is not a lord in his own kingdom. Some men do not get beyond this very low level, but for ever remain mere shuttlecocks driven hither and thither by more or less contradictory impulses.
The germ of the higher world that resides within him may sometimes make itself felt, but "so long as there is a confused welter of higher and lower impulses, ... so long is there an absence of anything essentially new and lofty."
Man's aspirations for things that are higher, are at the outset very sluggish and vague, for a being that is so much dominated by the natural world is apt to concentrate its attention upon it and to remain contented with it.
But there comes a time in the lives of perhaps most men when a distinct feeling of dissatisfaction is felt with the life of natural impulse and of convention. The man feels—perhaps in a vague way at first—that there is something too merely animal in the sense world, or that there is an intolerable emptiness and hypocrisy in a life of slavish devotion to the opinions of society. Perhaps he feels that his passions govern him, and not he his passions. The higher life stirs within him, and he begins to question the rightness of things. He learns to appreciate for the first time that the natural impulses may not be the noblest, and that custom may not be an ideal guide. His soul is astir with the problem of life—the result very largely depends upon the solutions that are presented to him. Perhaps the naturalistic solution is made to appeal to him, and he is taught to trust nature and it will lead him aright. Or maybe the pantheistic theory is accepted by him, and he is led to believe that the world as it is is entirely good, and that he has but to live his life from day to day, and not worry himself about the ultimate end and purpose of things. Or other optimistic theories of life that deny the existence of evil may influence him. All these solutions may give him temporary peace of mind, and perhaps indeed form efficient stumbling-blocks to any further spiritual progress.
But the spiritual beginnings within us often show remarkable vitality. They may under certain conditions lead us to appreciate the existence of a distinct opposition in the world—the opposition between the lower world and the higher self. Man finds that the natural is often low, evil, and sordid, and at this stage the higher spiritual world makes a strong appeal to him. By degrees he comes to feel the demands of the lower world to be a personal insult to him. What is the lower material world that it should govern him, and he a man? The claims of pleasure and utility to be standards of conduct strike him as arrogant, and he revolts against the assumption that higher aims can have no charm for him. His previous acceptance without consideration of the moral standard of the community he now looks upon as a sign of weakness on his part—for is he not himself, a person with the power of independent judgment and evaluation? It is the first great awakening of the spiritual life in man, when his whole soul is in revolt against the low, sordid, and conventional. What shall he do? There is only one course that is worthy of his asserting personality—he must break with the world. Henceforth he sees two worlds in opposition—the world of the flesh on the one hand, the world of the spirit on the other, and he arrays himself on the side of the higher in opposition to the lower. When he does this the spiritual life in him makes the first substantial movement in its onward progress—this movement Eucken calls the negative movement. It does not mean that the man must leave the world of work and retire into the seclusion of a monastery—that means shirking the fight, and is a policy of cowardice. Neither does it mean a wild impatience with the present condition of the world—it means rather that man is appreciating in a profound way the oppositions that exist, and is casting his lot on the side of right. He renounces everything that hinders him from fighting successfully, then goes forth into the thick of the battle. The break must be a definite one and made in a determined manner. "Without earnestness of renunciation the new life sinks back to the old ... and loses its power to stimulate to new endeavour. As human beings are, this negation must always be a sharp one."
The negative movement, then, is the first substantial step in the progress of the spiritual life. The man's self breaks out into discontent with nature, and this is the first step to the union of self to the higher reality in life. The break with the world is in itself of course but a negative process. This must attain a positive significance. If the self breaks away from one aspect of life, it must identify itself more intimately with another. This occurs when the individual sets out definitely on a course of life in antagonism to the evil in the world.
When this takes place, there arises within him a new immediacy of experience. Hitherto the things that were his greatest concern, and that appealed to him most, were the pleasures of the natural world. But these things appeal to him no longer as urgent and immediate—but as being of a distinctly secondary character. A new immediacy has arisen; it is the facts of the spiritual world that now appeal to him as urgent and immediate. "All that has hitherto been considered most immediate, as the world of sense, or even the world of society, now takes a second place, and has to make good its claim before this spiritual tribune.... That which current conceptions treat as a Beyond ... is now the only world which exists in its own right, the only true and genuine world which neither asks nor consents to be derived from any outside source."
This new immediacy is the deepest possible immediacy, it is an immediacy of experience where the self comes into contact with its own vital principle—the Universal Spiritual Life—and brings about a fundamental change in the life of the individual. The inner life is no longer governed by sense impressions and impulses, but the outward life is lived and viewed from the standpoint of the inward life.
But a new immediacy is not all that follows in the train of the negative movement—on the contrary, the highest possible rewards are gained, for freedom, personality, and immortality are all brought within the range of possibility.
Once a human being decides for the highest he is on the highroad to complete freedom. The freedom is not going to be won in a moment, but must be fought for by the individual through the whole course of his life. His body is always with him, and will at times attempt to master him—he must fight continually to ensure conquest. Difficulties will arise from various quarters, but he is not going to depend only upon his own resources. All his activity involves in the first place the recognition of the spiritual world, but more than this, he appropriates unto himself of the spiritual world—this in itself is an act of decision. And the more we appropriate unto ourselves of the Universal Spiritual Life, the more we decide for the higher world, the freer we become. Indeed, "it is this appropriation ... of the spiritual life that first awakens within the soul an inward certitude, and makes possible that perfect freedom ... so indispensable for every great creative work." By continually choosing and fighting for the progress of the Universal Spiritual Life, it comes to be our own in virtue of our deed and decision. Hence man has attained freedom—the lower world no longer makes successful appeal. He has become a part of the spiritual world, and his actions are no longer dictated by anything external, but are the direct outcome of his own self. He has freely chosen the highest, and continually reaffirms his choice—this is perfect freedom.
Man gains for himself, too, a personality in the true sense of the term. Eucken does not mean by personality "mere self-assertion on the part of an individual in opposition to others." He means something far deeper than this. "A genuine self," says Eucken, "is constituted only by the coming to life of the infinite spiritual world in an independent concentration in the individual." Following a life of endeavour in the highest cause, and continual appropriation of the spiritual life, he arrives at a state of at-one-ness with the universal life. "Man does not merely enter into some kind of relation with the spiritual life, but finds his own being in it." The human being is elevated to a self-life of a universal kind, and this frees him from the ties and appeals of the world of sense and selfishness. It is a glorious conception of human personality, infinitely higher than the undignified conceptions of naturalism and determinism.
And if man wins a glorious personality, he may gain immortality too. Unfortunately, Eucken has not yet dealt fully with this question, but he is evidently of the opinion that the spiritual personalities are immortal. As concentration points or foci of the spiritual life, he believes that the developed personalities are at present and in prospect possessors of a spiritual realm. But there will be no essential or sudden change at death. That which is immortal is involved in our present experience. Those who have developed into spiritual personalities, who have worked in fellowship with the great Universal Life, and become centre-points of spirituality, have thus risen supreme over time and pass to their inheritance. Those who have not done so, but have lived their lives on the plane of nature, will have nothing that can persist.
Hence it is that the negative movement leads to freedom, personality, and immortality; the neglect to make the movement consigns the individual to slavery, makes a real "self" impossible, and at death he has nought that a spiritual realm can claim. The choice is an all-important one; for, as a recent writer puts it, "In this choice, the personality chooses or rejects itself, takes itself for its life-task, or dies of inanition and inertia."
In the last chapter the ascent of the human being from serfdom to freedom and personality was traced. In doing so it was necessary to make frequent reference to the Universal Spiritual Life.
When we turn to consider the characteristics of the Universal Spiritual Life, many problems present themselves. How can we reconcile freedom and personality with the existence of an Absolute? What is the nature of this Absolute, and in what way is the human related to it? What place should religion play in the life of the spiritual personality? These are, of course, some of the greatest and most difficult problems that ever perplexed the mind of man, and we can only deal briefly with Eucken's contribution to their solution.
Can a man choose the highest? This is the form in which Eucken would state the problem of freedom. His answer, as already seen, is an affirmative one. The personality chooses the spiritual life, and continually reaffirms the decision. This being so, it is now no longer possible to consider the human and the divine to be entirely in opposition. And the more the spiritual personality develops, so much the less does the opposition obtain, until a state of spirituality is arrived at when all opposition of will ceases—then we attain perfect freedom. "We are most free, when we are most deeply pledged—pledged irrevocably to the spiritual presence, with which our own being is so radically and so finally implicated." Thus freedom is obtained in a sense through self-surrender, but it is through this same self-surrender that we realise spiritual absoluteness. Hence it is that perfect freedom carries with it the strongest consciousness of dependence, and human freedom is only made possible through the absoluteness of the spiritual life in whom it finds its being.
English philosophers have dealt at length with the question of the possibility of reconciling the independence of personality and the existence of an Absolute. From Eucken's point of view the difficulty is not so serious. When he speaks of personality he does not mean the mere subjective individual in all his selfishness. Eucken has no sympathy with the emphasis that is often placed on the individual in the low subjective sense, and is averse from the glorification of the individual of which some writers are fond. Indeed, he would prefer a naturalistic explanation of man rather than one framed as a result of man's individualistic egoism. The former explanation admits that man is entirely a thing of nature; the latter, from a selfish and proud standpoint, claims for man a place in a higher world. There is nothing that is worthy and high in the low desires of Mr. Smith—the mere subjective Mr. Smith. But if through the mind and body of Mr. Smith the Absolute Spirit is realising itself in personality—then there is something of eternal worth—there is spiritual personality. There will be opposition between the sordidness of the mere individual will and the divine will, but that is because the spiritual life has not been gained. When the highest state of spiritual personality has been reached, then man is an expression—a personal realisation of the Absolute, is in entire accord with the absolute, indeed becomes himself divine.
This does not rob the term personality of its meaning, for each personality does, in some way, after all, exist for itself. Each individual consciousness has a sanctity of its own. But the being-for-self develops more and more by coming into direct contact with the Universal Spiritual Life.
Here, then, we arrive at something that appears to be a paradox. We have the phenomenon of a being that is free and existing for itself, yet in some way dependent upon an absolute spiritual life. We have, too, the phenomenon of a human being becoming divine. How is it really possible that self-activity can arise out of dependence? Eucken does not attempt to explain, but contends that an explanation cannot be arrived at through reasoning. We are forced to the conclusion, we realise through our life and action that this is the real state of affairs, and in this case the reality proves the possibility. "This primal phenomenon," he says, "overflows all explanation. It has, as the fundamental condition of all spiritual life, a universal axiomatic character." Again he says, "The wonder of wonders is the human made divine, through God's superior power." "The problem surpasses the capacity of the human reason." For taking up this position, Eucken is sharply criticised by some writers.
When we approach the problem of the nature of the Absolute in itself, the main difficulty that arises is whether God is a personal being. God, says Eucken, is "an Absolute Spiritual Life in all its grandeur, above all the limitations of man and the world of experience—a Spiritual Life that has attained to a complete subsistence in itself, and at the same time to an encompassing of all reality." The divine is for Eucken the ultimate spirituality that inspires the work of all spiritual personalities. When in our life of fight and action we need inspiration, we find "in the very depths of our own nature a reawakening, which is not a mere product of our activity, but a salvation straight from God." God, then, is the ultimate spirituality which inspires the struggling personality, and gives to it a sense of unity and confidence. Eucken does not admit that God is a personality in the sense that we are, and deprecates all anthropomorphic conceptions of God as a personal being. Indeed, to avoid the tendency to such conceptions he would prefer the term "Godhead" to "God." Further considerations of the nature of God can only lead to intellectual speculations. For an activistic philosophy, such as Eucken's philosophy is, it would seem sufficient for life and action to know that all attempts at the ideal in life, originate in, and are inspired by, the Absolute Spiritual Life, that is by God.
We cannot discuss fully the relation of human and divine without, too, dealing with the ever urgent problem of religion. This is a problem in which Eucken is deeply interested, and concerning which he has written one of his greatest works—The Truth of Religion—a work that has been described as one of the greatest apologies for religion ever written.
What is religion? Most people perhaps would apply the term to a system of belief concerning the Eternal, usually resting upon a historical or traditional basis. Others would include in the term the reverence felt for the Absolute by the contemplative mind, even though that mind did not believe in any of the traditional systems. Some would emphasise the fact that religion should concern itself with the establishment of a relationship between the human and the Divine.
But Eucken does not find religion to consist in belief, nor in a mere attitude towards the mysteries of an overworld. In keeping with the activistic tone of his whole philosophy he finds religion to be rooted in life, and would define religion as an action by which the human being appropriates the spiritual life.
The first great concern of religion must be the conservation—not of man, as mere man, but of the spiritual life in the human being, and it means "a mighty concentration of the spiritual life in man." The essential basis that makes religion possible is the presence of a Divine life in man—"it unfolds itself through the seizure of this life as one's own nature." Religion must be a form of activity, which brings about the concentration of the spiritual life in the human soul, and sets forth this spiritual life as a shield against unworthy elements that attempt to enter and to govern man.
The essential characteristic of religion must be the demand for a new world. "Religion is not a communication of overworld secrets, but the inauguration of an overworld life." Religion must depend upon the contradiction and opposition that exists in human life, and upon the clear recognition of the distinction between the "high" and the "low" in life. It must point to a means of attaining freedom and redemption from the old world of sin and sense, and to the possibility of being elevated into a new and higher world. It must, too, fight against the extremes of optimism and pessimism, for while it will acknowledge the presence of wrong, it will call attention to the possibility of deliverance. It must bring about a change of life, without denying the dark side of life; it must show "the Divine in the things nearest at hand, without idealising falsely the ordinary situation of life."
The great practical effect of religion, then, must be to create a demand for a new and higher world in opposition to the world of nature. For this new life religion must provide an ultimate standard. "Religion must at all times assert its right to prove and to winnow, for it is religion—the power which draws upon the deepest source of life—which takes to itself the whole of man, and offers a fixed standard for all his undertakings." Religion must provide a standard for the whole of life, for it places all human life "under the eternity." It is not the function of religion to set up a special province over against the other aspects of his life—it must transform life in its entirety, and affect all the subsidiary aspects.
But religion is not gained, any more than human freedom, once for all time—it must be gained continually afresh, and sought ever anew. Thus the fact of religion becomes a perpetual task, and leads to the highest activity.
Eucken speaks of two types of religion—Universal and Characteristic Religion. The line of division between them is not easy to draw, but the distinction gives an opportunity for emphasising again the essential elements of true religion.
Universal Religion is a more or less vague appreciation of the Spiritual, which results in a diffused, indefinite spiritual life. The personality has appreciated to some extent the opposition between the natural and the spiritual, and has chosen the spiritual. He adopts a new attitude or mood, towards the world in consequence, and that is an attitude of fight against the world of nature. But everything is vague; the individual has not yet appreciated the spiritual world as his own, and feels that he is a stranger in the higher world, rather than an ordinary fully privileged citizen. He has not yet associated himself closely enough with the Universal Spirit, everything is superficial, there is hunger and thirst for the higher things in life, but these have not yet been satiated.
Some people never get beyond this vague appreciation of the spiritual until perhaps some great trial or temptation, a long illness or sad bereavement falls to their lot. Then they feel the need for a religion that is more satisfying than the Universal Religion with which they have in the past been content. They want to get nearer to God; they feel the need of a personal God who is interested in their trials and troubles. They are no longer satisfied with the conception of a God that is far away, they thirst for His presence. This feeling leads the individual to search for a more definite form of religion, in which the God is regarded as supremely real, and reigns on the throne of love. The personality enters into the greater depths of religion, and it becomes a much more real and powerful influence in his life. He has no longer a mere indefinite conception of a Deity, but he thinks of God as real and personal. Instead of adopting a changed attitude towards the world of nature, he comes to demand a new world. He is now a denizen of the spiritual world, and there results "a life of pure inwardness," which draws its power and inspiration from the infinite resources of the Universal Spiritual Life in which he finds his being. This type of religion Eucken calls Characteristic Religion.
The historical religions would seem to represent, to some extent, the attempts of humankind to arrive at a religion of this kind. A further distinction arises between the historical forms of religion, of which one at most, if any, can express the final truth, and the Absolute form of religion, which if not yet conceived, must ultimately express the truth in the matter of religion.
Eucken is never more brilliant than he is in the examination he makes of the historical forms of religion, for the purpose of formulating the Absolute and final form; some account of this must be given in the next chapter.
In examining the various historical forms of religion, Eucken, as we should expect, is governed by the conclusions he has arrived at concerning the solution of the great problem of life, and especially of the place of religion in life.
A religion which emphasised the need for a break with the world, and of fight and action for spiritual progress, the possibility of a new higher life of freedom and of personality, and the superiority of the spiritual over the material, and which presented God as the ultimate spiritual life, in which the human personality found its real self, would thus meet with highest favour, while a form of religion that failed to do so would necessarily fail to satisfy the tests that he would apply.
He does not spend time discussing various religions in detail, but deals with them briefly in general, in order to show that the Christian religion is far superior to all other religions, then he makes a critical and very able examination of the Christian position. He considers it necessary to discuss in detail only that form of religion that is undoubtedly the highest.
The historical religions he finds to be of two types—religions of law and religions of redemption. The religions of law portray God as a being outside the world, and distinct from man, One who rules the world by law, and who decrees that man shall obey certain laws of conduct that He lays down. Failure to obey these laws brings its punishment in the present or in a future life, while implicit obedience brings the highest rewards. To such a God is often attributed all the weaknesses of the human being, sometimes in a much exaggerated form—hence His reign becomes one of fear to His subjects.
A religion of law assumes that man is capable of himself of obeying the law, and is responsible for his mode of life; it assumes that man is capable through his own energy of conquering the world of sin, and of leading the higher life.
Religions of this type possess of course the merit of simplicity, transparency, and finality. The decrees, the punishments and rewards are given with some clearness and are easily understood; there is no appeal and little equivocation. They served a useful purpose in the earlier ages of civilisation, but cannot solve the problem for the complex civilisation and advanced culture of the present age. They place God too far from man, and attribute to man powers which he cannot of himself possess. The conceptions of the Deity involved in them are too anthropomorphic in character—too much coloured by human frailties.
The religions of law have had to give place to those of a superior type—the religions of redemption. These religions appreciate the difficulty there exists for humankind of itself to transcend the world of sin, and are of two types—one type expressing a merely negative element, the other a negative and positive element.
The typical negative redemptive religion is that of Buddhism. Buddhism teaches us that the world is a sham and an evil; and the duty of man is to appreciate this fact, and to deny the world, but here the matter ends—it ends with world-renunciation and self-renunciation. There is only a negative element in such a religion, no inspiration to live and fight for gaining a higher world. This, of course, cannot provide a satisfactory solution to the problem, for no new life with new values is presented to us. It is a religion devoid of hope, for it does not point to a higher life. "A wisdom of world-denial, a calm composure of the nature, an entire serenity in the midst of the changing scenes of life, constitute the summit of life."
Christianity teaches us that the world is full of misery and suffering, but the world in itself is really a perfect work of Divine wisdom and goodness. "The root of evil is not in the nature of the world, but in moral wrong—in a desertion from God." Sin and wickedness arise from the misuse and perversion of things which are not in themselves evil. Christianity calls for a break from the wickedness of the world. It calls upon man to give up his sin, to deny, or break with, the evil of which he is guilty. But it does not expect man to do this in his own strength alone—God Himself comes to his rescue. Unlike Buddhism, it does not stay at the denial of the world, but calls upon man to become a citizen of a higher world. This gives a new impetus to the higher life; man finds a great task—he has to build a kingdom of God upon the earth. This demands the highest efforts—he must fight to gain the new world, and must keep up the struggle to retain what he has gained. The inferiority of Buddhism as contrasted with Christianity is well described by Eucken in the following words: "In the former an emancipation from semblance becomes necessary; in the latter an overcoming of evil is the one thing needful. In the former the very basis of the world seems evil; in the latter it is the perversion of this basis which seems evil. In the former, the impulses of life are to be entirely eradicated; in the latter, on the contrary, they are to be ennobled, or rather to be transformed. In the former, no higher world of a positive kind dawns on man, so that life finally reaches a seemingly valid point of rest, whilst upon Christian ground life ever anew ascends beyond itself."
From such considerations as these, Eucken comes to the conclusion that of the redemptive religions, which are themselves the highest type, Christianity is the highest and noblest form, hence his main criticism is concerned with the Christian religion. This does not mean that he finds neither value nor truth in any other form of religion. His general conclusion with regard to the historical religions is that they "contain too much that is merely human to be valued as a pure work of God, and yet too much that is spiritual and divine to be considered as a mere product of man." He finds in them all some kernel of truth, or at least a pathway to some part of truth, but contends that no religion contains the whole truth and nothing but the truth. "As certainly," he says, "as there is only one sole truth, there can be only one absolute religion, and this religion coincides entirely in no way with any one of the historical religions."
Eucken's great endeavour in his discussion of the Christian religion is to bring out the distinction between the eternal substance that resides in it and the human additions that have been made to it in different ages, between the elements in Christianity that are essentially divine and those essentially human. Divested of its human colourings and accretions, Christianity presents a basis of Divine and eternal truth, and this regarded in itself, can well claim to be the final and absolute religion.
The conclusion he has come to with regard to the eternal truth as contrasted with the temporary colourings of Christianity, with the essential as contrasted with the inessential, can best be outlined by taking in turn some of the main tenets and characteristics of the Christian faith.
Eucken's conception of the negative movement is very much akin to the Christian idea of conversion. The first stage is merely a movement away from the world, but after a time, in the continuous process of negation, the negative movement attains a positive significance; when this stage is arrived at Eucken would apply the term conversion. He would not limit the negative movement to one act or to one point in time; the movement towards a higher world must be maintained—the sustaining of the negative movement being a test of the reality of conversion. The process of conversion is not a process to be passively undergone, or to originate from without, but is a movement starting in the depths of one's own being.
As already pointed out, Eucken believes in redemption. The past is capable of reinterpretation and transformation, because we can view our past actions in a new light and so change the whole, since the past is not a closed thing, definite in itself, but a part of an incomplete whole. He considers, however, that the Christian doctrine of redemption makes it too much a matter of God's mercy, instead of placing stress upon the part that man himself must play. The possibility of redemption in his view follows from the presence and movement of the spiritual life in man, not merely from an act of the founder of Christianity, and he avers that while traditional Christianity emphasises the need for redemption from evil, it does not emphasise sufficiently the necessary elevation to the good life that must result.
Closely bound up with the Christian doctrine of redemption is that of mediation. Eucken believes that the Christian conception of mediation resulted from the feeling of worthlessness and impotence of man, and the aspirations which yet burned within him after union with the Divine. The idea of mediation bridges the gulf, "a mid-link is forged between the Divine and the human, and half of it belongs to each side; both sides are brought into a definite connection which could be found in no other way." Eucken acknowledges that such a mediation seems to make access to the Divine easier, gives intimacy to the idea of redemption, and offers support for human frailty. But he points out that there is an intolerable anthropomorphism involved in the idea, that it removes the Divine farther away from man, and that the union of Divine and human is held to obtain in one special case only—that of Christ. He urges that in a religion of mediation, one or other, God or Christ, must be chosen as the centre. "Concerning the decision there cannot be the least doubt; the fact is clear in the soul-struggles of the great religious personalities, that in a decisive act of the soul the doctrinal idea of mediation recedes into the background, and a direct relationship with God becomes a fact of immediacy and intimacy."
So Eucken will have nothing to do with the idea of mediation in its doctrinal significance—pointing out that "the idea of mediation glides easily into a further mediation." "Has not the figure of Christ receded in Catholicism, and does not the figure of Mary constitute the centre of the religious emotional life?"
He does, however, lay great store by the help that a man may be to other men in their upward path: "The human, personality who first and foremost brought eternal truth to the plane of time, and through this inaugurated a new epoch, remains permanently present in the picture of the spiritual world, and is able permanently to exercise a mighty power upon the soul ... but all this is far removed from any idea of mediation."
Eucken believes in revelation, but through action, and not through contemplation. To the personality struggling upward, with its aims set towards the highest in life, the spiritual life reveals itself. He does not confine revelation to certain periods in time, and believes that such revelation comes to all spiritual personalities.
He holds, too, that the spiritual personalities are themselves revelations of the Universal Spiritual Life, and that the Spiritual Life does reveal itself most clearly in personalities.
How the revelation comes he does not discuss in any detail, but he is very certain that it comes through action and fight for the highest.
It is perhaps largely due to his activistic standpoint that Eucken does not deal with prayer. In the Truth of Religion, which deals very fully with most aspects of religion, and purports to be a complete discussion of religion, no treatment of prayer is given. He speaks of the developing personality as drawing upon the resources of the Universal Spiritual Life, but this appears to be in action, and not in prayer or communion.
He is ever suspicious of intellectual contemplation, and this leads him to attribute less importance than perhaps he should to mysticism, to prayer, adoration, and worship. He admits that mysticism contains a truth that is vital to religion, but complains that it becomes for many the whole of religion. Its proper function is to liberate the human mind from the narrowly human, and to emphasise a total-life, the great Whole. It fails, however, "because it turns this necessary portion of religion into the sole content. To it, religion is nothing other than an absorption into the infinite and eternal Being—an extinguishing of all particularity, and the gaining of a complete calm through the suspension of all the wear and tear of life."
Eucken's discussion of faith and doubt is very illuminating. He protests against the conception of faith which concerns itself merely with the intellectual acceptance of this or that doctrine. This narrows and weakens its power, confining it to one department of life; whereas faith is concerned with the whole of life.
Faith is for Eucken "a conviction of an axiomatic character, which refuses to be analysed into reasons, and which, indeed, precedes all reasons ... the recognition of the inner presence of an infinite energy."
If faith concerns itself with, and proceeds from the whole of life, it will then take account of the work of thought, and will not set itself in opposition to reason. But it will lead where reason fails. It is not limited by intellectual limitations, though it does not underrate or neglect the achievements of the intellect. Faith enables life to "maintain itself against a hostile or indifferent world; ... it holds itself fast to invisible facts against the hard opposition of visible existence."
The vital importance of such faith to religion is clearly evident; and bound up with this is the significance of doubt. Doubt, too, becomes now, not an intellectual matter, but a matter for the whole of life. "If faith carries within itself so much movement and struggle, it is not surprising ... if faith and doubt set themselves against each other, and if the soul is set in a painful dilemma." Eucken considers it to be an inevitable, and indeed a necessary accompaniment of religious experience, and his own words on the point are forcible and clear. "Doubt ... does not appear as something monstrous and atrocious, though it would appear so if a perfect circle of ideas presented itself to man and demanded his assent as a bounden duty. For where it is necessary to lay hold on a new life, and to bring to consummation an inward transformation, then a personal experience and testing are needed. But no proof is definite which clings from the beginning to the final result, and places on one side all possibility of an antithesis. The opposite possibility must be thought out and lived through if the Yea is to possess full energy and genuineness. Thus doubt becomes a necessary, if also an uncomfortable, companion of religion; it is indispensable for the conservation of the full freshness and originality of religion—for the freeing of religion from conventional forms and phrases."
Eucken's views on immortality have already been dealt with. He does not accept the Christian conception of it, for he seems to limit the possibility to those in whom spiritual personalities have been developed, and he evidently does not believe that the "natural individuality with all its egoism and limitations" is going to persist.
In discussing the question of miracle, Eucken weighs the fact that a conviction of the possibility of miracle has been held by millions in various religions, and particularly in Christianity. He considers that the question of miracle is of more importance in the Christian religion than in any other, one miracle—the Resurrection—having been taken right into the heart of Christian doctrine. He finds, however, that the miracle is entirely inconsistent with an exact scientific conception of nature, and means "an overthrow of the total order of nature as this has been set forth through the fundamental work of modern investigation." He does not consider such a position can be held without overwhelming evidence, and does not feel the traditional fact to have this degree of certainty, or to be inexplicable in another way. He considers that the explanation of the miracle probably lies in the psychic state of the witnesses.
Eucken shows in general extreme reluctance to make a historical event a foundation of belief, and this no doubt accounts to some extent for his attitude with regard to miracles. He points out that "the founders of religion have themselves protested against a craving after sensuous signs," and that this protest "is no other than the sign of spiritual power and of a Divine message and greatness." He considers that the belief in, and craving for, sensuous miracle is an outcome of a "mid-level of religion," where belief is waning and spirituality declining. While, thus, he does not believe in sensuous miracle, he acknowledges and lays the greatest stress on one miracle—the presence of the Spiritual Life in man. It is, indeed, this miracle that renders others unnecessary.
In discussing the doctrine of the Incarnation, Eucken attempts to get at the inner meaning—the truth which the doctrine endeavours to express, and he finds this to consist in the fact of the ultimate union of the human and Divine, and this truth is one that we dare not renounce. He criticises the attempt that is made in Christianity to show that such union only obtained once in the course of history. Incarnation is not one historical event, but a spiritual process; not an article of belief, but a living experience of each spiritual personality.
He considers as injurious to religion in general the Christian conception of the Atonement. He believes that the idea that is to be expressed is that of the nearness of God to man in guilt and in suffering. In endeavouring to express this close intimacy the idea of suffering was transferred to God himself. The anthropomorphic idea of reconciliation and substitution thus arose, and this Eucken considers to have done harm. "The notion that God does not help us through His own will and power, but requires first of all His own feeling of pity to be roused, is an outrage on God and a darkening of the foundation of religion." So Eucken objects to the attempt to formulate the mystery into dogma. "All dogmatic formulation of such fundamental truths of religion becomes inevitably a rationalism and a treatment of the problem by means of human relationships, and according to human standards." "It is sufficient for the religious conviction to experience the nearness of God in human suffering, and His help in the raising of life out of suffering into a new life beyond all the insufficiency of reason. Indeed, the more intuitively this necessary truth is grasped, the less does it combine into a dogmatic speculation and the purer and more energetically is it able to work."
The conception of the Trinity is again an attempt to express the union of Divine and human, "the inauguration of the Divine Nature within human life." The dogma, however, involves ideas of a particular generation, and so threatens to become, and has indeed become, burdensome to a later age which no longer holds these ideas. Further, the doctrine of the Trinity has mixed up a fundamental truth of religion with abstruse philosophical speculations, and this has provided a stumbling-block rather than a help.
At the same time, Eucken lays the greatest stress on the personality of Jesus. He considers the personality of Jesus to be of more importance to Christianity than is the personality of its founder to any other religion. "Such a personality as Jesus is not the mere bearer of doctrines, or of a special frame of mind, but is a convincing fact, and proof of the Divine life, a proof at which new life can be kindled over anew." And again: "It is from this source that a great yearning has been implanted within the human breast ... a longing for a new life of love and peace, of purity and simplicity. Such a life, with its incomparable nature and its mysterious depths, does not exhaust itself through historical effects, but humanity can from hence ever return afresh to its inmost essence, and can strengthen itself ever anew through the certainty of a new, pure, and spiritual world over against the meaningless aspects of nature and over against the vulgar mechanism of a culture merely human." But while he would appreciate the depth and richness of the personality of Jesus, he protests against the worship of Jesus as divine, and the making of Him the centre of religion. The greatness of Christ is confined to the realm of humanity, and there is in all men a possibility of attaining similar heights.
Christianity is, in Eucken's view, much more closely bound up with historical events than any other religion, and it thus suffers more severe treatment at the hands of historical criticism than any other religion. Eucken considers such historical criticism to be of great value. In Christianity as in other religions we find the eternal not in its pure form, but mixed with the temporal and variable, and historical criticism will help in the separation of the temporal from the eternal elements. In so doing it does an immense service, for it frees religion from fixation to one special point of time, and enables us to regard it as ever developing and progressing to greater depths.
Eucken emphasises that the historical basis of Christianity is not Christianity itself, is not essentially religious; and he quotes Lessing, Kant, and Fichte to support him in his contention that a belief in such a historical basis is not necessary to religion, and may even prove harmful to it. The historical basis is, of course, useful as bringing out into clear relief the personality of Jesus, and the other great spiritual personalities associated in His work, and Eucken lays stress upon the use that history can be to Christianity in giving records of the experiences of great spiritual personalities in all ages, but it is important that the history is here a means to an end, and not an end in itself, and that the importance lies in the spiritual experience and not in the historical facts.
When one considers how little Eucken has to say concerning worship, and how little emphasis he places upon historical and doctrinal forms in religion, one wonders how it is he attaches so much importance to the functions of the Church. He points out that a Church is necessary to religion, that it seems to be the only way of making religion real and effective for man. "The Church seems indispensable in order to introduce and to hold at hand the new world and the new life to man in the midst of his ordinary existence; it is indispensable in order to fortify the conviction and to strengthen the energy in the midst of all the opposite collisions; it is indispensable in order to uphold an eternal truth and a universal problem in the midst of the fleetingness of the moment." In the past, however, much harm has been done to religion by the Church. This has arisen from several reasons. To begin with, it tends to narrow religion, which is concerned with life, to the realm of ideas, and to tie down religion by connecting it with a thought-system of a particular age. Further, the necessary mechanical routine, and the appointment of special persons to carry out this routine, tends to elevate the routine and these special persons to a far higher place than they should occupy. Again, spiritual things have been dragged into the service of personal ambition, and bound up with human interests. The most serious danger, however, is that religion, from being an inward matter, tends to become externalised.
Despite this, an organised Church cannot be dispensed with, and Eucken points out what changes are necessary to make the Church effective. One important point he makes clear, namely, that as the Church must speak to all, and every day, and not only to spiritually distinguished souls, and in moments of elevated feeling, then the teaching of the Church will always lag behind religion itself, and must be considered as an inadequate expression of it.
It is necessary that there should be no coercion with regard to men's attitude towards the Church, and men should be free to join this or that Church, or no Church at all.
Then there must be more freedom, movement, and individuality within the Church. What the Church holds as a final result of the experience of life cannot be expected as the confession of all, especially of the young. "How can every man and every child feel what such a mightily contrasted nature as Luther's with all its convulsive experiences felt?"
Then the Church must not so much teach this or that doctrine as point to the Spiritual Life, set forth the conditions of its development, and be the representative of the higher world. Thus, and thus only, Eucken thinks that the Church can fulfil its proper function, and avoid being a danger to religion.
Eucken's appreciation of Christianity is sincere. Viewing it from the standpoint of the Spiritual Life, he finds that it fulfils the conditions that religion should fulfil. It is based on freedom, and on the presence of the Divine in humanity, even to the extent of a complete union between them. The ideal of the Christian life is a personal life of pure inwardness, and of an ethical character. He speaks of the "flow of inner life by means of which Christianity far surpasses all other religions," and of the "unfathomable depth and immeasurable hope which are contained in the Christian faith."
In Christianity the life of Christ has a value transcending all time, and is a standard by which to judge all other lives. There is, too, in Christianity a complete transformation or break, which must take place before any progress or development can take place.
"There is no need of a breach with Christianity; it can be to us what a historical religion pre-eminently is meant to be—a sure pathway to truth, an awakener of immediate and intimate life, a vivid representation and realisation of an Eternal Order which all the changes of time cannot possess or destroy."
At the same time, there are changes necessary in the form of Christianity, if it is to answer to the demands of the age, and be the Absolute Religion. It must be shorn of temporary accretions, and must cast aside the ideas of any one particular age which have now been superseded. No longer can it retain the primitive view of nature and the world which formerly obtained, no longer must it take up a somewhat negative and passive attitude, but, realising that religion is a matter of the whole life, must energetically work itself out through all departments of life. It must remedy wrong, not merely endure it. It must proceed from a narrow and subjective point of view to a cosmic one, without at the same time losing sight of the fact that religion is an inward and personal matter. It must take account to the full of the value of man as man, and of the possibilities latent in him, and take account of his own activity in his salvation.
The Christian ideal of life must be a more joyous one, of greater spiritual power, and the idea of redemption must not stop short at redemption from evil, but must progress to a restoration to free and self-determining activity. Since an absolute religion is based on the spiritual life, the form in which it is clothed must not be too rigid—life cannot be bound within a rigid creed. With its form modified in this way, Eucken considers that Christianity may well be the Absolute Religion, and that not only we can be, but we must be Christians if life is to have for us the highest meaning and value.