Chapter III: Subjectivism And Its Freedom

The tendency of the modern intellect to independence in its own peculiar sphere of thinking and knowing, cannot fail to work itself out energetically. In this sphere it leads naturally to that view of human reasoning called subjectivism: the thinking or reasoning subject is its own law, the autonomous creator and guide of its thought. Herein lies the _essential presumption_, the very core, of the liberal freedom of science. Wherever we turn we meet subjectivism with its autonomous rejection of all authority, its arbitrary separation of knowledge from faith, its agnosticism, its relativity to truth as the moving factor of, and the ostensible warrant for, this freedom, especially in the sphere which it considers peculiarly its own, philosophy and religion. Only when we look closer into its philosophical premises will it be possible to form a judgment of the “scientific method” it employs in this, its peculiar sphere, and of the justice of its claim to be the sole administrator of man’s ideal possessions, and to be altogether “independent of every view not conforming to this scientific method.” Before considering subjectivism let us by way of preface set down a few considerations on the nature of human, intellectual perception.

Objectivism and Subjectivism.

It always has been, and still is, the firm conviction of unbiassed men,—a conviction which irresistibly forces itself upon us,—that in our intellectual perception and thought we grasp an _objective, exterior order of things, an existence distinct from our thought_; of this objective reality we reproduce an image in our minds, and thus grasp it intellectually. _Cognitio est similitudo rei_, says the old school; that is, Knowledge is the reproduction of an objective reality, which thus becomes the criterion of cognition. The reproduction is a counterpart of the original. In this perfect resemblance of our cognition to the objective reality there has ever been recognized the _truth_ of knowledge.

When the thinking mind has arrived at the mathematical truth that the circumference of a circle is the product of the diameter multiplied by _Ludolph’s_ number, it knows—unless indeed it has lost its natural candour—that it has not of itself produced this result of reasoning, but that it has recognized in it an objective reality of truth, distinct from its own thought, and has reproduced that truth in itself. And because this reproduction corresponds to the reality, it is called true cognition. Similarly, when the intellect expresses the general law of causality, namely, everything that happens has a cause, the intellect is again convinced that it has not of itself produced this result of reasoning, but has only reproduced it by assimilating to itself an objective truth which is necessarily so and cannot be otherwise, and which the mind must assimilate if it wants to think aright. This is true not only when the mind is dealing with concrete things, but also when it would give expression to general principles, as in the present instance; these, too, are not subjective projections, but are independent of the thinking subject, and are eternal laws.

This view of the nature of human cognition and thought has gradually undergone an essential change, not indeed with those outside the influence of philosophical speculation, but with the representatives of modern philosophy, and those subject to its influence. Objectivism has been superseded by subjectivism. Its principle is this: cognition, imagination, and thought are not the intellectual apprehension of an objective world existing independent of us, of which we reproduce in ourselves a counterpart. No, _the mind creates its own results of reason and cognition_; the objects before us are the creatures of the imagining subject. At the utmost, we can but say that our reasoning is the manner in which a hidden exterior world appears to us. This manner must necessarily conform to the peculiarity of the subject, to his faculties and stage of development; but the exterior world as it is in itself we can never apprehend. _Descartes_, starting with the premise that consciousness is the beginning of all certainty, was the first modern philosopher to enter upon the way of subjectivism. He was followed by _Locke_, _Berkeley_, and _Kant_. It is due to them that in the modern theory of cognition the fundamental principle of idealistic subjectivism, no matter how difficult and unreasonable it may appear to an ordinary thinker, has obtained so many advocates who, nevertheless, cannot adhere to it, but contradict it at every step.

“The world,” _Schopenhauer_ is convinced, “is the projection of my
idea.... No truth is more certain, more independent of all others,
less in need of proof, than this, that all there is to be known,
hence the whole world, is an object only in relation to a subject,
a vision of the beholder; in a word, the projection of my own
idea. Hence the subject is the bearer of the world” (Die Welt als
Wille und Vorstellung, I, §§ 1-2). “It is evidently true that
knowledge cannot go beyond our consciousness, and hence the
existence of things outside of our sphere of consciousness must,
to say the least, remain problematical” (Der Gegenstand der
Erkenntniss, 1892, p. 2). In like manner _O. Liebmann_ says: “We
can never go beyond our individual sphere of ideas (projection of
our ideas), even though we apprehend what is independent of us,
still the absolute reality of it is known to us only as our own
idea” (Zur Analysis der Wirklichkeit, 1900, p. 28). Therefore “the
contrast between ‘I’ and the world,” says _E. Mach_, “between
feeling or apprehension and the reality, falls away” (Die Analysis
der Empfindungen, 2d ed., 1900, p. 9). And a disciple of _Mach_
says: “It is important to hold fast to the idea that a
self-existent, divine Truth, independent of the subject,
objectively binding, enthroned, so to say, above men and gods, is
meaningless.... Such a Truth is nonsense” (_H. Kleinpeter_,
Kantstudien, VIII, 1903, p. 314).

None of these representatives of worldly wisdom are able to fulfil
the first duty of the wise man: “Live according to what you
teach.” Even the sceptic _Hume_ has to admit that in the common
affairs of life he feels himself compelled of necessity to talk
and act like other people.

Subjectivism is really nothing but _scepticism_, for it eliminates the knowableness of objective truth. But it is a masked—if you will, a reformed—scepticism. Cognition is given another purpose; its task is not at all, so it is said, to reproduce or assimilate a world distinct from itself, but to create its own contents. The very nature of cognition is reversed.

The Autonomy of Reason.

It was _Kant_, the herald of a new era in philosophy, who gave to this gradually maturing subjectivism its scientific form and basis. At the same time he gave prominence to that element of subjectivism which seems to give justification to freedom of thought, to wit, autonomism, the creative power of the intellect which makes its own laws. Independence of reason and free thought have become catchwords since _Kant’s_ time. They are a precious ingredient of the autonomy of modern man.

When the flaming blaze of the French Revolution was reddening the skies of Europe, and inaugurating the restoration of the rights of man, _Kant_ was sitting in his study at Königsberg, his heart beating strongly in sympathy with the Revolution, for he saw in it a hopeful turn of the times. An old man of nearly seventy, he followed the events with most passionate interest. _Varnhagen_ records in his Memoirs, based on the stories of _Staegemann_, that, when the proclamation of the Republic was announced in the newspapers, _Kant_, with tears in his eyes, said to some friends: “Now can I say with Simeon, ‘Now dost Thou, O Lord, dismiss Thy servant in peace, because mine eyes have seen Thy Salvation’ ” (_H. Hettner_, Literaturgeschichte des 18. Jahrh. III, 4th ed., 3, 2, 1894, p. 38). While on the other side of the Rhine the Jacobins were doing their bloody work of political liberation, the German philosopher, the herald of a new era and an ardent admirer of _Rousseau_, sat in his study labouring for man’s intellectual liberation. To give man the right of autonomous self-determination in action and thought was the work of his life. Autonomy was indeed to him “ ‘the source’ of all dignity of man and of every rational nature” (Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten, II). And hence it was that his ardent followers beheld in him “the first perfect model of a really free German, one who had purged himself from every trace of Roman absolutism, dogmatism, and anti-individualism” (_H. St. Chamberlain_, Die Grundlagen des 19. Jahrh., 8th ed., 1907, II, 1127).

In his “Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten” (The Foundation of the Metaphysics of Ethics) and “Kritik der praktischen Vernunft” (Critique of Practical Reason) _Kant_ sought to establish _autonomy in moral life_ and action. Man himself, his practical reason, is the ultimate foundation of all moral obligation; did man lead a good life out of obedience to God it would be a heteronomy unworthy of the name of “moral.” “The autonomy of the will,” he teaches, “is the sole principle of all moral laws and the duties allied to them; all arbitrary heteronomy, on the contrary, far from having any binding force, is contrary to the principle of morality of the will” (Kritik der prakt. Vern., Elementarlehre, I, 1, 4. Lehrsatz). Or, as amplified by a faithful interpreter of the master: “In the moral world the individual should be not only a member but also a ruler; he is a member of the moral order when he obeys its law; he is its ruler when he enacts the law.... The distinction between autonomy and heteronomy separates true from false ethics, the system of _Kant_ from all other systems. All moral systems, except that of _Kant_, are based on the principles of heteronomy; they can have no other. And critical philosophy was the first to grasp the principle of autonomy” (_Kuno Fischer_, Geschichte der neuen Philosophie, IV, 2d ed., 1869, p. 114 _seq._). _Kant’s_ just man no longer prays “Thy will be done”; he identifies the law with himself. _Nietzsche’s_ transcendental man is seen in the background.

_Autonomy of thought_ is the result of the “Critique of Pure Reason,” and in spite of its inconsistency of expression, its involved sentences, its extremely tiresome style, it is and will long continue to be the text-book of modern philosophy. According to _Kant_ our cognition consists in our fashioning the substance of our perceptions and reasoning after innate, purely subjective, views and conceptions. Time and place, and especially the abstract notions of existence and non-existence, necessity, causality, substance, have no truth independent of our thought; they are but forms and patterns according to which we are forced to picture the world. Their first matter is supplied by sense experience, such as sound, colour, feeling; but these, too, according to _Kant_, are not objective. Nothing then remains to our cognition that is not purely subjective, having existence in ourselves alone. Our cognition is no longer a reproduction, but a creation of its object; our thought is no longer subject to an external truth that may be forced upon it. “Hitherto,” says _Kant_, “it has been generally supposed that our cognition must be governed by objects.... Let us see if we cannot make better headway in the province of metaphysics by supposing that objects must be governed by our cognition” (Kritik der Reinen Vernunft, Vorrede zur zweiten Ausgabe).

This is, indeed, nothing but a complete falsification of human cognition. It is evident to an unbiassed mind that there must be a reason for everything, not because I so think, but I think so because such is the fact; that the multiplication table is right, not because I think so, but I must multiply according to it simply because it is right. My thought is subject to objective truth. But _Kant’s_ autonomy means emancipation from objective truth, and hence, though _Kant_ himself held fast to the unchangeable laws of thinking and acting, he energetically opened the way for subjectivism with all its consequences. This was _Kant’s_ doing, and history credits him with it. It was one of those events which have made men famous: the giving to the ideas and sentiments of a period their scientific formula, and thereby also their apparent justification.

_Schiller_ wrote in 1805 to _W. von Humboldt_: “The profound
fundamental ideas of ideal philosophy remain an enduring treasure,
and for this reason alone one should think himself fortunate for
having lived at the present time.... Finally, we are both
idealists, and should be ashamed to have it said of us that things
made us and not we the things.” _Fr. Paulsen_ gives expression to
the opinion of many when he says: “_Kant_ gives to the intellect
the self-determination that is essential to it, and the position
in the world which it deserves. He has raised the intellect’s
creative power to a position of honour: the essence of the
intellect is freedom” (Immanuel Kant, 1898, p. 386). “The autonomy
of reason ... we cannot give up” (_Kant_, Der Philosoph des
Protestantismus, in Philosophia militans, 2d ed., 1901, p. 51).
“It is indeed the offspring of Protestantism.” “To me it is beyond
doubt,” _Paulsen_ continues, “that the fundamental tendency of
primitive Protestantism has here been carried out in all
clearness” (Ibid. 43). _Luther_, too, found in the heart of the
individual the unfailing source of truth. For that reason _Kant_
has been called the philosopher of Protestantism.

Hence the well-known historian, _J. Scherr_, may not be wrong when
he calls the philosophy of _Kant_ “the foundation of granite
whereon is built the freedom of the German intellect.”

Now, indeed, we easily understand the demand for freedom of thought. It is unintelligible how an external authority, a divine revelation or infallible Church, could have ever approached man, assured him of the truth of its teaching, and laid upon him in consequence of this testimony the obligation of accepting it as true. “An external authority,” we are assured, “be it ever so great, will never succeed in arousing in us a sense of obligation; its laws, be they ever so lofty and earnest, will be deemed arbitrary, simply because they come from without” (_Sabatier_, La Religion et la Culture moderne, apud _Fonsegrive_, Die Stellung der Katholiken gegenueber der Wissenschaft, Deutsch von _Schieser_ (1903), 10). Man accepts only what he himself has produced, what is congenial to his individuality, what is in harmony with his personal intellectual life. In the place of truth steps “personal conviction,” the shaping of one’s views and ideals; in the place of unselfish submission to the truth steps the “development of one’s intellectual individuality,” the “evolution of one’s intellectual personality”; in a word, free-thought. Exterior authority can no longer impose an obligation. “Is there on earth,” asks _Paulsen_, “an instance where authority can decide for us in matters of belief and thought?” And he answers: “There is none; there cannot be on this earth an infallible teaching authority.” And why not? “Philosophy and science must refuse to recognize such an authority.... If I could believe all that the Church or the Pope teaches, this one thing I could never believe, that they are infallible; it would include a resolution, once for all, to renounce my own judgment regarding whatever they declare true or false, good or bad; it would be the utter renunciation of the use of my reason and conscience.” (Ibid. 51-53. We shall often cite the testimony of _Paulsen_ for the purpose of illustrating modern thought, partly because he is no longer living, partly because he is quite an outspoken representative of the modern view of the world, though generally regarded as moderate. Moreover, he is without doubt one of the most widely read of the modern German philosophers.)

The demonstration of all this is quite unique. Here it is in brief: Were there an infallible authority, one which necessarily taught the truth, then thought and science would be irrevocably subjected to this authority: that will not do; therefore there is no such authority. Or thus: Were there an infallible teaching, then we should have to accept it without contradiction: that is impossible; therefore there is no infallibility. Hence it is clear, the protest against an infallible authority, even though divine,—for the argument holds good also in regard to such an authority,—is not based on the impossibility of teaching the truth, for the authority is supposed to be infallible, but on man’s refusal to be taught. And this refusal is made in accordance with that sovereign freedom of thought which is the natural offspring of subjectivism; the principal renunciation is based on its denial of objective truth. _It is the rejection of the truth._

“In advanced progress,” _Paulsen_ continues, “the individual is
also separating himself from the intellectual mass of the people
in order to enjoy a separate mental existence.... The individual
is beginning to have his own ideas about things; he is no longer
satisfied with the common opinions and notions about the world and
life which have been dealt out to him by religion and mythology:
all philosophy begins with freeing the individual from common
notions.” “If the individual ideals of a personality, gifted with
extraordinary power of mind and will, happen to come in conflict
with the objective morality of the time, then there results one of
those struggles which cause the dramatic crises of history. They
who thus struggled were the real heroes of mankind. They rose
against the conventional and indifferent ideals which had grown
obsolete, against untrue appearances, against the salt that had
lost its savour; they preached a new truth, pointed out new
aspirations and ideals which breathed a new strength into life and
raised it to a higher plane” (System der Ethik, 8th ed., 1906, I,
372 f.).

Truly encouraging words for the modern agitator and reformer. To summon the courage to rise above the level of the masses, to feel within himself the centre of gravity, and to fashion his thoughts regardless of the whole world, this is nothing less than the beginning of philosophy and wisdom. And should he feel himself strong-minded he may simply change all moral and religious values which do not square with his individual judgments. “To remain faithful to one’s own self,” we are told again, “that is the essence of this ideal bravery. No one can possess this virtue who does not feel within himself the centre about which life gravitates; whoever pursues exterior things as his ultimate end cannot penetrate to interior freedom. _Spinoza_, by life and teaching, is a great preacher of this freedom” (Ibid. II, p. 27). Self-consciousness as arrogant as that of a pantheist like _Spinoza_, who indeed did not pursue “exterior things as the ultimate end,” nor God either; the self-consciousness in which man feels himself the centre about which world and life revolve; the will which now directs thought on its way,—these are the life-nerves of autonomous free-thought.

In fact, inclination and will, not objective truth, are the
measure and norm of free-thought. This _Paulsen_ again expresses
with astonishing candour. According to him, intelligence is after
all nothing else than a transformation of the will, this doctrine
is rooted in the more modern voluntaristic monism, and is akin to
subjectivism. If our cognition itself forms its object, then the
real concept of cognition has been lost to us, and in its place we
have the will determining the action even of the intellect.
_Paulsen_ says emphatically, “Intelligence is an instrument of the
will in the service of preservation of life.... Perhaps it can be
said that even the elementary formations of thought, the logical
and metaphysical forms of reality, are already codetermined by the
will. If the forms of abstract thought are at all the result of
biological evolution, then this must be accepted: they are
formations and conceptions of reality, which have proved effective
and life-preserving, and have therefore attained their object. The
principle of identity is in reality not a mere statement, not an
indicative, but an imperative: A is A; that is, what I have put
down as A shall be A and remain A.... If this be so, if thought
and cognition be determined fundamentally by the will, then it is
altogether unintelligible how it might finally turn against the
will, and force upon it a view against its will” (_Kant’s_
Verhaeltniss zur Metaphysik, 1900, p. 31 f.).

We have to do here with a confusion of ideas possible only when
correct reasoning has sunk to a surprisingly low level. To think
with the will, to draw conclusions with intention, is degenerate
thinking. But now we understand better what is meant by autonomy
of thought. It gives man license to disregard by shallow reasoning
everything that clashes with his own will. “What I have put down
as A shall be A and remain A!”

It is now clear that subjectivism and autonomism in thinking are rooted in the positive disregard of objective truth, in the refusal of an unconditional subjection to it; they mean _emancipation from the truth_. Here we have the most striking and _deepest difference_ between modern subjectivistic and Christian objective thought. The latter adheres to the old conviction that our thoughts do not make the truth, but are subject to an objective order of things as a norm. For this reason autonomous freedom and subjective caprice, a manner of reasoning that would approach truth as a lawgiver, and even change it according to time and circumstance, are unintelligible in the Christian objective thought. This thought submits unselfishly to truth wherever met, be it without a divine revelation or with it, if the revelation be but vouched for. And the reward of this unselfishness is the preservation of the truth.

But subjectivism, with its freedom, leads inevitably to the loss of the truth; it is scepticism in principle, in fact, if my thoughts are not a counterpart of an objective world, but only a subjectively produced image; not knowledge of an external reality, but only a figment of the imagination, a projection, then I can have no assurance that they are more than an empty dream.

The Modern Separation of Knowledge and Faith.

Of course it would be too much to expect that subjectivism in modern thought and scientific work should go to the very limit, viz., to disregard all reasoning, to advance at will any theory whatever, to silence disagreeable critics by merely referring to one’s autonomy in thinking, and denying that any one can attain to absolute truth. Errors in empirical speculation never prosper as others do; the power of natural evidence asserts itself at every step, and tears down the artificial cobwebs of apparently scientific scepticism. It asserts itself less strongly where the opposing power of natural evidence is weaker, than is the case in matters of actual sense-experience. Here indeed one sees the objective reality before him, which he cannot fashion according to his caprice. The astronomer has no thought of creating his own starry sky, nor does the archæologist wish to create out of his own mind the history of ancient nations. They both desire to know and to reveal the reality. But in the _suprasensible sphere_, in dealing with questions of the whence and whither of human life, where there is question of religion and morals, there autonomy and scepticism assert themselves as though they were in their own country, there the free-thinker steps in, boasting of his independence and taking for his motto the axiom of ancient sophistry: the measure of all things is man.

Here at the same time the natural product of subjectivism, sceptic agnosticism, has full sway. In such matters, we are told, there is no certain truth; nothing can be proved, nothing refuted: they are all matters of _faith_—not faith, of course, in the Catholic sense. The latter is the acceptance by reason of recognized divine testimony, hence an act of the intellect. The modern so-called faith, on the contrary, is not an act of the intellect, but is supposed to be a vague _feeling_, a want, a longing and striving after the divine in one’s innermost soul, which divine is then to be grasped by the soul in some mysterious way as something immediately present in it. This feeling is said to emerge from the subconsciousness of the soul, and to raise in the mind those images and symbols which we encounter in the doctrines of the various religions, varying according to times and men. They are only the symbols for that unutterable experience of the divine, which can be as little expressed by definitions and tenets as sounds can by colour. It is a conviction of the ideal and divine, but different from the conviction of reason; it is an inner, actual experience. Hence there can no longer be absolute religious truth, no unchangeable dogmas, which would have to be adhered to forever. In religion, in views of the world and life, the free feeling of the human subject holds sway, a feeling that experiences and weaves together those thoughts and ideals that are in accord with his individuality. This is the modern doctrine.

The dark mysticism of the ancient East and the agnosticism of modern times here join hands. This modern method of separating knowledge and faith is, as we all know, a prominent feature of modern thought. Knowledge, that is, cognition by reason, is said to exist only in the domain of the natural sciences and history. Of what may be beyond these we can have no true knowledge. Here, too, _Kant_ has led the way; for the important result of his criticism is his incessant injunction: we can have true knowledge only of empiric objects, never of things lying beyond the experience of the senses; our ideas are merely subjective constructions of the reason which obtain weight and meaning only by applying them to objects of sense experiment. Hence God, immortality, freedom, and the like, remain forever outside the field of our theoretical or cognitive reason. Nevertheless _Kant_ did not like to drop these truths. Hence he constructed for himself a conviction of another kind. The “practical reason” is to guide man’s action in accomplishing the task in which her more timid sister, theoretical reason, failed. And it does it, too. It simply “postulates” these truths; they are its “_postulates_,” since without them moral life and moral order, which it is bound to recognize, would be impossible. No one knows, of course, whether this be truth, but it ought to be truth. _Stat pro ratione voluntas._ The Gordian knot is cut. “It is so,” the will now cries from the depths of the soul, “I believe it”; while the intellect stands hesitatingly by protesting “I don’t know whether it is so or not.” Doubt and conviction embrace each other; Yes and No meet peacefully. “I had to suspend knowledge,” _Kant_ suggests, “in order to make room for faith” (Kritik der reinen Vernunft, 2. Vorrede). “It is an exigency of pure practical reason based on duty,” he further comments on his postulate, “to make something the highest good, the object of my will, in order to further it with all my power. Herein, however, I have to assume its possibility, and therefore its conditions, viz., God, freedom, and immortality, because I cannot prove them by speculative reason, nor yet disprove them.” Thus “the just man may say I wish that there be a God; I insist upon it, I will not have my faith taken from me” (Kritik der prakt. Vernunft, 1. Teil, 2. Buch, 2 VIII).

Others have followed the lead of _Kant_. For philosophers, Protestant theologians, and modernists, he has become the pilot in whom they trust.

“_Kant’s_ critical philosophy,” says _Paulsen_, “gives to
knowledge what belongs to it—the entire world of phenomena, for
the freest investigation; on the other hand, it gives to faith its
eternal right, viz., the interpretation of life and the world
according to their value” (Immanuel Kant, 1898, 6). “Faith does
not simply rest upon proofs, but upon practical necessity”; “it
does not come from the intellect, but from the heart and will”
(Einleitung in die Philosophie, 10th ed., 1903, 271, 269).
“Religion is not a science, hence it cannot be proved nor
disproved.” “Therefore man’s view of the world does not depend on
the intellect, but solely on his will.... The ultimate and highest
truths, truths by which man lives and for which he dies, have not
their source in scientific knowledge, but come from the heart and
from the individual will.” In a similar strain _R. Falkenberg_
writes: “The views of the world growing out of the chronology of
the human race, as the blossoms of a general process of
civilization, are not so much thoughts as rhythms of thinking, not
theories but views, saturated with appreciations.... Not only
optimism and pessimism, determinism and doctrine of freedom, but
also pantheism and individualism, idealism and materialism, even
rationalism and sensualism, have their roots ultimately in the
affections, and even while working with the tools of reason remain
for the most part matters of faith, sentiment, and resolve”
(Geschichte der neuen Philosophie, 5th ed., 1905, p. 3).

You may look up any books or magazines of modern philosophy or
Protestant theology, and you will find in all of them “that faith
is a kind of conviction for which there is no need of proof” (_H.
Luedemann_, Prot. Monatshefte IX, 1903, 367). This emotional faith
has been introduced into Protestant theology especially by
_Schleiermacher_. It is also this view of the more recent
philosophy that the modernists have adopted. They themselves
confess: “The _modernists_ in accord with modern psychology
distinguish clearly between knowledge and faith. The intellectual
processes which lead to them appear to the modernists altogether
foreign to and independent of one another. This is one of our
fundamental principles” (Programma dei Modernisti (1908), 121).

Religious instruction for children will then have to become
altogether different. The demand is already made for “a recast of
thought from the sphere of the intellect into the sphere of
affection.” Away, so they clamour, away with the dogmas of
creation, of Christ as the Son of God, of His miracles, as taught
in the old schools! For all these are religious ideas. Pupils of
the higher grades should be told “the plain truth about the degree
of historicity in elementary religious principles.... The
fundamental idea of religion can neither be created nor destroyed
by teaching, it has its seat in sentiment, like—excuse the term—an
insane idea” (_Fr. Niebergall_, Christliche Welt, 1909, p. 43).

This dualism of “faith” and knowledge is as untenable as it is common. It is a psychological _impossibility_ as well as a sad _degradation of religion_.

How can I seriously believe, and seriously hold for true, a view of the world of which I do not know whether it be really true, when the intellect unceasingly whispers in my ear: it is all imagination! As long as faith is a conviction so long must it be an activity of the intellect. With my feeling and will I may indeed wish that something be true; but to wish simply that there be a God is not to be convinced that there actually is a God. By merely longing and desiring I can be as little convinced as I can make progress in virtue by the use of my feet, or repent of sins by a toothache. It is μετάβασις εἰς ἄλλο γένος. A dualism of this kind, between head and heart, doubt and belief, between the No of the mind and the Yes of the heart, is a process incompatible with logic and psychology. How could such a dualism be maintained for any length of time? It may perhaps last longer in one in whom a vivid imagination has dimmed the clearness of intellect; but where the intellectual life is clear, reason will very soon emancipate itself from a deceptive imagination. One may go on dreaming of ideal images, but as soon as the intellect awakens they vanish. Hallucinations are taken for real while the mind is affected, but they pass away the moment it sees clearly.

_Kant_ himself, the father of modern agnostic mysticism, has made
it quite clear that his postulates of faith concerning the
existence of God and the immortality of the soul, have never taken
in him the place of earnest conviction. Thus in the first place
_Kant_ holds that there are no duties towards God, since He is
merely a creature of our mind. “Since this idea proceeds entirely
from ourselves, and is a product of ours, we have here before us a
postulated being towards whom we cannot have an obligation; for
its reality would have to be proved first by experience (or
revealed)”; but “to have religion is a duty man owes to himself.”
Again, he dislikes an oath, he asks whether an oath be possible
and binding, since we swear only on condition that there is a God
(without, however, stipulating it, as did _Protagoras_). And he
thinks that “in fact all oaths taken honestly and discreetly have
been taken in no other sense” (Metaphysik der Sitten, II, § 18,
Beschluss).

_Prayer_ he dislikes still more. “Prayer,” he says, “as an
internal form of cult, and therefore considered as a means of
grace, is a superstitious delusion (feticism).... A hearty wish to
please God in all our actions, that is, a disposition present in
all our actions to perform them as if in the service of God, is a
spirit of prayer that can and ought to be our perpetual guide.”
“By this desire, the spirit of prayer, man seeks to influence only
himself; by prayer, since man expresses himself in words, hence
outwardly, he seeks to influence God. In the former sense a prayer
can be made with all sincerity, though man does not pretend to
assert the existence of God fully established; in the latter form,
as an address, he assumes this highest Being as personally
present, or at least pretends that he is convinced of its
presence, in the belief that even if it should not be so it can do
him no harm, on the contrary it may win him favour; hence in the
latter form of actual prayer we shall not find the sincerity as
perfect as in the former. The truth of this last remark any one
will find confirmed when he imagines to himself a pious and
well-meaning man, but rather backward in regard to such advanced
religious ideas, surprised by another man while, I will not say
praying aloud, but only in an attitude of prayer; any one will
expect, without my saying so, that that man will be confused, as
if he were in a condition of which he ought to be ashamed. But why
this? A man caught talking aloud to himself raises at once the
suspicion that his mind is slightly deranged; and not altogether
wrongly, because one would seem out of mind if found all alone
making gestures as though he had somebody else before him; that,
however, is the case in the example given” (Religion innerhalb der
Grenzen der blossen Vernunft, 4. Stueck, 2, § 4, Allgemeine
Anmerkung). Thus it happens that in his opinion those who have
advanced in perfection cease to pray.

Nor does it seem that _Kant_ is serious about his postulate of the
_immortality_ of the soul. Asked by _Lacharpe_ what he thought of
the soul, he did not answer at first, but remarked, when the
question was repeated: “We must not make too much boast of it”
(_H. Hettner_, Literat. Gesch. des 18. Jahrh., III, 4. ed., 3, p.
26. From _Varnhausen’s_ Denkwuerdigkeiten).

Thousands have with _Kant_ destroyed their religious conviction by
a boastful scepticism, and, like him, finally given it up to
replace its lack by artificial autosuggestions.

And is not the religious life of man thereby made completely valueless? The highest truths on which the mind of man lives, and which from the first stage of his existence not only interested but deeply stirred him, become fiction, pictures of the fancy, suggestions of an effeminate mind, that cannot make a lasting impression on stronger minds. And how can the products of autosuggestion give comfort and strength in hours of need and trial? It is true they do not impose any obligations. Every one is free to form his own notions of life; they are not to be taken seriously anyway, whether they be this or that; they are all equally true and equally false. Buddhism is just as true as Christianity, Materialism as true as Spiritualism, Mohammedanism as true as Quakerism, the wisdom of the Saints as true as the philosophy of the worldly. “The most beautiful flower is growing on the same soil (that of the emotions) with the rankest weed” (_Hegel_). The decision rests with sentiments which admit of no arguing. Thus all is made over to scepticism, to that constant doubting which degrades and unnerves the higher life of modern times, to that _modern agnosticism_ which, though bearing the distinction of aristocratic reserve, is in reality dulness and poverty of intellect; not a perfection of the human intellect, but a hideous disease, all the more dangerous because difficult to cure. It is the neurasthenia of the intellect of which the physical neurasthenia of our generation is the counterpart.

The distinguishing mark between man and the lower animals has ever been held to be that the former could knowingly step beyond the sphere of the senses, into that world of which his intellect is a part. The conviction has always prevailed that man by means of his own valid laws of thought, for instance, the principle of causality, could safely ascend from the visible world to an invisible one. Thus also the physician concludes the interior cause of the disease from the exterior symptoms, the physicist thus comes to the knowledge of the existence of atoms and ions which he has never seen, and the astronomer calculates with _Leverrier_ the existence and location of stars which no eye has yet detected.

One thing has certainly been established: a _free sentiment_ can now assert itself with sovereignty in the most important spheres of intellectual life, without any barriers of stationary truths and immovable Christian dogmas; one is now free to fashion his religion and ideals to suit the _individuum ineffabile_. The latter asks no longer what religion demands of him, but rather how religion can serve his purposes. “For the gods,” it is said, “which we now acknowledge, are those we need, which we can use, whose demands confirm and strengthen our own personal demands and those of our fellow-men.... We apply thereby only the principle of elimination of everything unsuitable to man, and of the survival of the fittest, to our own religious convictions”; “we turn to that religion which best suits our own individuality” (_W. James_). Arrogant doubt can now undermine all fundamental truths of Christian faith until they crumble to pieces; beside it rises the free genius of the new religion, on whose emblem the name of God is no longer emblazoned, but the glittering seal of an independent humanity.

Relative Truth.

Freedom of thought appears still more justified when we take a further step which brings us to the _consequence of subjectivism_; _i.e._, when we advance so far as to assert that there are no unchangeable and in this sense no absolute truths, but only temporary, changeable, relative truths. And modern thought does profess this: there is no absolute truth, no _religio et philosophia perennis_; different principles and views are justified and even necessary for different times and even classes. This removes another barrier to freedom of thought, viz., allegiance to generally accepted truths and to the convictions of bygone ages.

The logicalness of this further step can hardly be denied. If the human intellect, independent of the laws of objective truth, fashions its own object and truth, especially in things above the senses, why can it not form for itself, at different periods and in different stages of life, a different religion and another view of the world? Cannot the human subject pass through different phases? He indeed changes his costume and style of architecture; why not also his thoughts? Every product of thought would then be the right one for the time, but would be untenable for a further stage of his intellectual genesis and growth, and would have to be replaced by a new one. The nature of subjectivistic thought is no longer an obstacle to this. Besides, we have the modern idea of _evolution_, already predominant in all fields: the world, the species of plants and animals, man himself with his whole life, his language, right, family, all of them the products of a perpetual evolution, everything constantly changing. Why not also his religion, morality, and view of the world? They are only reflexes of a temporary state of civilization. Hence also here motion and change, evolution into new shapes!

Therefore, so it is said, we have now broken definitely with the “dogmatic method of reasoning” of the belief in revelation, and of scholastic philosophy which adhered to absolute truth. They are replaced by the historical-genetical reasoning of the _saeculum historicum_ which “has discarded absolute truth: there are only relative, no eternal truths” (_Paulsen_, Immanuel Kant, 1898, 389). We are further assured that “this treatment of the history of thought prevails in the scientific world; the Catholic Church alone has not adopted it. She still clings to dogmatic reasoning, and that is natural to her; she is sure that she is in possession of the absolute truth” (Idem, Philosophia militans, 2d ed., 1901, 5). Outside of this Church every period of time is free to construct its own theories, which will eventually go with it as they came with it.

We meet this relative truth, and all the indefinable hazy notions identified with it, _in all spheres_.

The modern history of philosophy and religion concedes to every
system and religion the right to their historic position: they are
necessary phases of evolution. The notion of immutable problems
and truths by which any system of thought would have to be
measured has been lost. “The appearance and rejection of a
system,” says _J. E. Erdmann_, “is a necessity of world-history.
The former was demanded by the character of the time which the
system reflected, the latter again is demanded by the fact that
the time has changed” (Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie,
3rd, I, 1878, 4). And Professor _Eucken_ says: “Despite all its
advantages, such a view and construction of life is not a definite
truth, it remains an attempt, a problem that always causes new
discord among minds” (Grundlinien einer neuen Lebensanschauung,
1907, 2). “Thus, if according to _Hegel_ the coming into being
constitutes the truth of being, the ideals and aims also must
share in the mobility, and truth becomes a child of the times
(_veritas temporis filia_). That apparently subjects life to a
full-blown relativism, but such a relativism has lost all its
terror by the deterioration of the older method of reasoning. For
agreement with existing truth is no longer its chief object.”
(Geistige Stroemungen der Gegenwart, 1904, p. 197). The new theory
of knowledge assures us quite generally: “It is a vain attempt to
single out certain lasting primitive forms of consciousness,
acknowledged constant elements of the mind, to retain them. Every
‘a-priori’ principle which is thus maintained as an unalienable
dowry of thought, as a necessary result of its psychological and
physiological ‘disposition,’ will prove an obstacle of which the
progress of science will steer clear sooner or later” (_E.
Cassirer_, Das Erkenntnissproblem in der Philosophie und
Wissenschaft der neueren Zeit, 1906, 6).

That this relativism is also laying hand, more and more firmly,
upon modern ethics is well known. One often gets the conviction
that, as _E. Westermark_ teaches, “there is no absolute standard
of morality,” that “there are no general truths,” “that all moral
values,” as Prof. _R. Broda_ writes, “are relative and varying
with every people, every civilization, every society, every free
person” (Dokumente des Fortschritts, 1908, 362).

Thus modern subjectivism has lost all sense for definite rules of thought; in its frantic rush for freedom and in its confused excitement it seeks to upset all barriers. Now, of course, we may disregard convictions thousands of years old, by simply observing that they suited former ages but not the present; that they perhaps suit the uneducated but not the educated. Henceforth one may also reject the dogmas of _Christianity_ by merely pointing out that they were at one time of importance, but are not suited to the modern man. That is an idea readily grasped, one which has already become quite general with those who are mentally tired of Christianity. What is demanded is a further evolution also of the Christian religion, a continuous cultivation of freer, higher forms, an undogmatic Christianity without duty to believe, without a Church: nothing else, in the end, but a veiled humanitarian religion.

“It will be difficult for coming generations to understand,” says
_Paulsen_, in the same sense, “how our time could cling in
religious instruction with such peace of mind to a system which,
having originated several centuries ago under entirely different
conditions of intellectual life, stands in striking contrast to
facts and ideas accepted by our time everywhere outside the
schools.” Hence a revision of the fundamental truths of
Christianity is needed. Away with everything supernatural and
miraculous, obedience to faith, original sin, redemption: all this
sounds strange to the modern man. “So there remains but one way:
to adapt the doctrine of the Church to the theories and views of
our times” (System der Ethik, 8th ed., 1906, II, pp. 247, 250).
And _Eucken_ says similarly: “We can adopt the doctrinal system of
the Church only by retiring from the present back to the past”
(Zeitschr. fuer Philosophie u. Phil. Kritik 112, 1898, 165).
Therefore we demand evolution of the Christian religion! “Let us
not blindly follow antiquated doctrines disposed of by science,”
we are exhorted. “Let there be no fear lest our belief in God and
true piety suffer by it! Let us remember that everything earthly
is in continual motion, carried along by the rushing river of
life.” Onward, therefore, to advancement! ... cheerfully avowing
the watchword: “evolution of religion” (_Fr. Delitzsch_, Zweiter
Vortrag ueber Babel u. Bibel, 45. thousand, 1904, 42).

Modern Protestant theology has achieved a great deal in this
direction; its evolution has progressed to a complete
disintegration of Christianity, by adapting it to modern ideas so
thoroughly that there is not a single thought left which this
Christianity, reduced to meaningless words, might not accept.

This is the relativism of the present subjectivistic reasoning and its consequences.

Now, it is true that there is room for a certain relativity and evolution in the field of thought and truth. There is a relative truth in the sense that our knowledge of it is never exhaustive. Even the eternal truths of the Christian religion we always know only imperfectly, and we ought to perfect our knowledge continually; established facts of history can also be known, if studied, in greater detail. Thus there is progress and evolution. But from this we may not conclude that there can be no fixed truths at all. In the astronomy of to-day one can surely have the conviction that the fundamental truths of _Copernicus’s_ System of the Universe must remain an unchangeable truth, and that the time will never come when we shall go back to the obsolete doctrines of old _Ptolemy_, who made the sun revolve around the earth. Is astronomy therefore excluded from progress and evolution? It is moreover true that the individual as well as the community pass through an intellectual evolution in the sense that they gradually increase their knowledge and correct their errors, that literature and the schools gradually enhance the energy and wealth of our ideas and thoughts.

But a progressive change of the laws of thought, to the effect that we must now hold to a proposition which at another time we should naturally reject as untenable, can be maintained only upon the supposition that the thought of evolution has driven all others out of the intellect. It would be absurd to hold that the same view could be true at one time and false at another, that the same views about the world and life could be right to-day and wrong to-morrow, to be accepted to-day and rejected to-morrow. A view is either true or false. If true, it is always true and warranted. Or was old _Thales_ right when he declared the world to consist of water; were _Plato_ and _Aristotle_ right in maintaining that it consisted of ideas, or forms, with real existences; was _Fichte_ and his time right with his Ego, and are finally _Schopenhauer_, _Wundt_, and _Paulsen_ right in claiming the world to be the work of the will? Were our heroic ancestors right, as the theories of evolution claim, in holding that trees are inhabited by ghosts; were then the Greeks right with their idea of a host of gods dwelling in the Olympus; and later on, was the civilized world right in holding that there is but one God, a personal one; and, after that, are many others of to-day right when they tell us that the world, and nature itself, is god? These are conclusions that threaten confusion to the human brain. And yet they are the logical consequences of “relative truth,” and any one reluctant to accept these consequences would prove thereby that he has never realized what absurdities are marketed as relative truth.

Or shall we give it up, as entirely impossible, to judge of the truth or falseness of doctrines and views? Are we to value them only so far as they are adapted to a period, and as moulding and benefiting that period? This opinion indeed is held. “The values of science and philosophy,” says _Paulsen_, “of our arts and poetry, consist in what they give us; whether a distant future will still use them is very questionable. Scholastic philosophy has passed away; we use it no longer; that is, however, no proof against its value; if it has made the generations living in the latter half of the Middle Ages more intelligent and wise ... then it has done all that could rightfully be expected of it: having served its purpose, it may be laid with the dead: there is no philosophy of enduring value.” “Whatever new ideas a people produces from its own inner nature will be beneficial to it. Nature may be confidently expected to produce here and everywhere at the right time what is proper and necessary” (System der Ethik, 8th ed., 1906, I, 339, _seq._, II, 241).

We have here a very deplorable misconception of the real value of truth, degrading it to suit passing interests and to promote them. This also is in conformity with subjectivism. But what could be answered to the straight question: suppose the opinions which some prefer to call “false” are more useful and valuable than “truth”? None but _Nietzsche_ had the courage to say that “the falsity of a judgment is not yet a sufficient prejudice against it; here our new speech will perhaps sound strangest. The question is: How far is that judgment life-promoting, life-sustaining, preservative, even creative of species, and we are inclined, on principle, to say that the falsest judgments are to us the most indispensable” (Jenseits von Gut und Boese, I, 4, W. W. VII, 12.) The view that doctrines and opinions become especially or exclusively true and valuable by their usefulness for practical life, has become in our times the principle of pragmatism.

What others thought out only half way, _Nietzsche_ reasons out to the end.

To what lengths this contempt of objective truth may lead a man of
such an honest character as _Paulsen_, is learned from his advice
to the modern Protestant preacher who can no longer believe what
he has to preach to his orthodox congregation: he may speak just
as suits his congregation, orthodox as well as unorthodox,
according to the principles of relative truth. “Let us assume,” he
says, “that his congregation is of a remote country village, where
not the slightest report of the happenings in theology and
literature has penetrated, where the names of _Strauss_ and
_Renan_ are as little heard as those of _Kant_ and
_Schleiermacher_. Here the Bible is still taken to be the literal
Word of God, transmitted to us by holy men commissioned to do it.
In this case the preacher may speak without scruple of that book
in the same way as his present hearers are used to. Would he thus
be saying what is wrong? What is meant by saying the Bible is the
Word of God? The same preacher, if transferred to other
surroundings where he has to address readers of _Strauss_ and
_Kant_, may change his manner of speaking without changing his
view or without violating the truth one way or the other. He would
be speaking to them from their own point of view.... Again, should
the same preacher publish his philosophical scientific research,
he could speak of Holy Scripture in an entirely different way....”
And he adds: “Some have taken exception to this opinion.” Surely
not without reason!

A justification of this counsel was attempted in these words:

“Just as the electric incandescent light and the tallow-candle may
exist side by side, and as each of them may serve its purpose in
its proper place, so there exist also side by side various
physical and metaphysical ideas and fundamental notions: the
scientist and the philosopher and the old grandmother in her
cottage on the remote mountain-side, cannot think of the world in
the same way” (Ethik II, 240-244). But the argument, if it should
prove anything, must be formulated thus: “As the incandescent
light can at the same time be a tallow-candle, just so can two
different and opposite views about one and the same thing be at
the same time both right.”

Thus, thanks to the science of modern subjectivism, every fixed and unchangeable truth, especially in the sphere of philosophy and religion, is removed, and with it also every barrier to freedom of thought in science as well as elsewhere. The human intellect in its autonomous self-consciousness may not only reject those truths which are proposed by revelation or the Church; it may not only experience its views of religion and the world by giving free activity to its feelings, it also knows that to be no longer satisfied with the old truths means to be progressive.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

Above we have sketched the deeper-lying thoughts on which the liberal freedom of science is based; it is the humanitarian view of the world with its emancipation of man, and autonomous scepticism in thought, joined to that sceptical disregard of truth which once the representative of expiring pagan antiquity comprised in the words: _Quid est veritas?_ Now we also understand better the liberal science which often claims the privilege of being “the” science, and which only too often likes to put down as unwarranted and inferior every other science that does not pursue its investigations in the same way. We understand its methods of thought in philosophy and religion, for which it claims an exclusive privilege; we can also form a judgment of its claim to be the leader of humanity in place of faith.

No doubt there are many who are flirting with this freedom without accepting its principles entirely. They do not reason out the thing to the end, they argue against the invasion of the Church into the field of science, and point to _Galileo_; they denounce Index and Syllabus, and then believe they have therewith exhausted the meaning of freedom of science. That the real matter in question is a view of the world diametrically opposed to the Christian view, that a changed theory of cognition is underlying it, is by many but insufficiently realized.

This freedom is not acceptable to one who professes the Christian view of the world. He will not offer any feeble apology to the eulogist of this freedom, as, for instance: Indeed you are quite right about your freedom, but please remember that I, too, as a faithful Christian am entitled to profess freedom. No; the answer can only be: Freedom, yes; but _this_ freedom, no. A wholly different view of the world separates me from it. I see in it not freedom but rebellion, not the rights of man but upheaval, not a real boon of mankind but real danger.

The principle of liberalism has in the field of social economy already done enough to wreck man’s welfare. It has here proved its incompetence as a factor of civilization. That in science also, where it is active in the field of philosophy and religion, liberalism is the principle of overthrowing true science, without any appreciation for truth and human nature, that it is a principle of intellectual pauperism and decay, that it despoils man of his greatest treasures, inherited from better centuries—this we shall prove conclusively.

It is difficult to say how long the high tide of liberalism will sweep over the fields of modern intellectual life before it subsides. One thing, however, is certain, that just so long it will remain a danger to Christian civilization, and to the intellectual life of mankind.

SECOND SECTION. FREEDOM OF RESEARCH AND FAITH.