tion. Plato is not deceived by the glittering outside of human life. Penetrating through this, he sees the want, the emptiness, the miserable hollowness within. Hence the deeply serious, often sad tone of his writings-a spirit so at variance with the light and gay character of Grecian philosophy in general. Nor does he regard this misery and guilt of human life as something superficial and temporary; on the contrary, he views it as an evil deep-seated and widelyspread. His doctrine of sin is most remarkably distinguished from that of any other heathen system. It agrees with Christianity, too, in regarding sin as a departure from God; the germs and tendencies to which departure he places in the creaturely life as such. The good is the original and primary, the bad is a degeneracy from it-thus we have a fall of

man.

2. The means by which a restoration of the union between God and man is to be effected, is the power of divine love. Pure and perfect love is the single and eternal bond of the spiritual world. "In the form of perfect beauty she steps in as mediatress between God and man, between the visible and invisible, between spirit and matter; wakes, by her penetrating ray, the slumbering consciousness of the truly and unchangeably existent; and directs the fluctuating aspirations of the awakened spirit to that which alone can satisfy them-to God, the highest good." But before divine love can exert its healing and restorative influence, there must be a preparation for it, that is, a consciousness of need. Man must feel his guilt. Thus, like Christianity, Platonism does not first bring peace, but the sword. It seeks to humble, to empty, to abase. It welcomes the hungry and the lowly, but sends away the full and the rich. Peace must spring from anguish; the anguish of true self-knowledge and selfrenunciation. As the ideas of the flesh and the world are not foreign to Platonism, so neither are the opposite ones of the spirit, and the kingdom of God; the idea of which is plainly to be seen in the Republic.

3. As to the end which Plato proposes, it is, as we have seen, nothing less than the redemption of man; the emancipation of the soul from error and sin, and its introduction into the world of the True and Good. In reference to this end, death appears to him as the greatest benefactor of life. In death the spirit is loosened from the sensual and fleshly bands which had fettered it here; it follows unhindered the im

pulses which lead it towards the eternal and divine. Thus death, as in the Christian system, is made the introduction to life. It is contained in the Christian idea of redemption, that man cannot accomplish it for himself. The same is true of Plato's doctrine on this point. It is true that he does not trace this work to the person and love of a divine Redeemer, but to heavenly influences, acting in and upon human life. The office of purification and reconciliation is intrusted to the eternal Ideas. He expects from them almost the same effects which Jesus wrought through the purity of his life and doctrine. "They form, through their inseparable connection, their inward vital union, so to say, that heavenly ladder, on which a significant dream saw the angels ascend and descend. Touched by them the illuminated spirit mounts from step to step, till the last and highest leads it to the perception of the living Godhead." The approximation of the soul to the Supreme Being through the mediatorship of Ideas, constitutes the highest point of redemption, or reconciliation. The reconciliation of opposites, or their resolution into a higher unity, marks the whole theoretical, as well as practical character of Platonism. The world is a system of energies and ends which continually assist and forward each other. The good is all-powerful, and the bad shall not only be forced to submit to it, but to contribute towards the same end-a discord which shall swell the mighty harmony. "Thus the whole history of the world, seen from the throne of the Eternal, is nothing else than an answer to the prayer for glorification through His light and love.”— John xvii. 5.

Plato could not have presented so Christian a view in his philosophy, if he had not felt its power in his soul. His faith in the possibility of redemption for man was not a speculation merely; it was deep-seated in his convictions and feelings, and moulded his character. "He saw in spirit, like Abraham, the day of the Lord; he felt himself rooted and grounded in his spiritual being and striving, on a divine redemptive power, present, but invisible in the world; and this anticipation of the sovereign rule of the Eternal, in the fulness of time, was his star in the east, and the source of his spiritual strength and hopefulness . . . Almost might he say with John, "This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith." Certain it is, that "faith and love

are not less fundamental to the life of the soul in Platonism

than in Christianity."*

Yet, after all that has been said, and justly, of the decidedly Christian tendency of Plato's writings, there yet remains a chasm which may well be called infinite, between his doctrines and those of the gospel. As far as human reason could go, he went; and farther, many will be ready to say, than it could have gone unassisted. But the doctrine which lies at the very basis of Christianity, is one which could never have been discovered without revelation, and to this be necessarily remained a stranger. It is the doctrine of the life and death of a personal Redeemer. It was for want of this knowledge, that his system, like all other merely human systems, remained so powerless; that it could not effect the good it aimed at. Had Ackermann failed to recognize this point with the same clearness with which he has brought out the Christian features in Platonism, his work would have been essentially defective. But he has not. The concluding chapter of his work begins thus: "A purer knowledge of the eternal and the beautiful than that contained in the Platonic philosophy, has not dawned on the heathen world. But to be the Life itself was not given to this light. (John i., 4.) And the shame-covered cross on Golgotha is yet a more splendid and triumphant theodicy than the sublime picture of a world filled with divine glory in the mind of the Grecian sage!"

But before entering fully on this part of the subject, Ackermann glances at some of the minor unchristian features in Platonism-points which we shall pass over to notice what he says on the pantheistic tendencies apparent in the system. The charge of Pantheism, it is well known, has been continually advanced against Plato, often, it may be presumed, by those who attach to the word no distinct and precise

* The author anticipates an objection to the truth of this remark, from the fact that Plato speaks so contemptuously of GTIs. But it is not to words, he observes, that we are to look for the analogou of Christian faith in Plato, but in things. It is to be found in the inner direction and constitution of his mind — a firm and joyful conviction which inspirits the whole system of his philosophy. Without this he could not have been penetrated by so pure a love to the divine; for, as Augustin justly remarks, non potest diligi quod esse non creditur. It must be admitted, however, that such a spirit, admirable as it may be, forms but a very imperfect "analogou" to the Christian faith; and which, indeed, could not exist without a personal and divine Redeemer for its object. If Ackermann has somewhat overstated this point, as we think he has done in several other instances, an antidote will be found in what he has yet to say on the unchristian in Platonism. On these points see still farther the note infra.

meaning. Strict, consequent, systematic Pantheism, is one thing, and the occasional occurrence of pantheistic elements in a system, is another. In the former sense, the allegation, as it regards Plato, is wholly unfounded; in the latter, it is true. Nor can it justly be matter of surprise that a heathen philosopher has not been able wholly to escape the rocks which have proved so fatal to Christian theology. And who that has studied the history of the church will assert that she has ever been able to construct a complete and satisfactory system of theological truth, free from tendencies to Pantheism on the one hand, or to Deism on the other? As little doubt can there be which of the two is to be preferred.

But, as was observed of the Christian element in Platonism, so now it may be said of the unchristian, that the true way to arrive at it is not by the comparison of scattered points. Its great defect is indicated by the expression already employed to describe its chief excellence-heilbezweckenden. It merely aims at redemption, but cannot accomplish it. The cause of this failure is to be found in the fact that it wants that which is the very kernel and soul, the living pulse of Christianity, namely, the person and work, or the life and sorrows of the Redeemer. For this is the chief point which essentially distinguishes, not merely heathenism, but every "One other form of faith and religion from the Christian. cannot contemplate the heathen systems without wonder at their often surprising resemblance to Christianity." The deeper we penetrate into the writings of the ancients, the less are we able to resist the conviction, that, on the side of doctrine alone, they are but little behind Christianity. They contain not only all the moral precepts and exalted teachings which the gospel has given us, but we find them often more sharply marked, and clothed with a more beautiful drapery than in the sacred writings; and those who know nothing better to extol in Christianity than its "incomparable doctrines," know not what they do and say. Truly, it is not in doctrine that Christianity is so superior to all which the bistory of the world has produced, in a religious point of view. Heathen sages have inculcated the noble and divine in almost the same pure and exalted form as the founder of Chris

* A remarkable confirmation of the position that much in heathen philosophy and religion is to be traced to primitive revelation a view which is admirably stated and defended by Professor Lewis, of New York, in his address, entitled, "Natural Religion the Remains of Primitive Revelation."

tianity.... But the incarnation of the divine Word belongs to no philosophy, and to no speculation, but to Christianity alone."*

These remarks will enable us to understand the otherwise so incomprehensible fact, that in a system whose predominant character is supernatural and mystical, there should occur features of such mere rationalism.t We see, also, why Plato, in common with other heathen, had so feeble an impression of the holiness of God, an attribute on which, in the Christian system, is based the whole doctrine of atonement. Because the idea of God is not brought out into living reality and personality, the human and finite in heathenism is always predominant, while in Christianity the reverse is true. "In the former, the apotheosis of man-in the latter, the incarnation of God, is the summit of pious faith." And as the thinker is always higher than his thought, (see Eschenmayer, in Hegel's Reg. Phil.,) pride is the cardinal

The reader will be reminded of S. Augustin's words: "Apud Ciceronem et Platonem, aliosque ejusmodi scriptores, mulla sunt acuté dicta et leniter calentia, sed in iis omnibus hoc non invenio, Venite ad me,'" &c.

+ The author refers, among other things, to Plato's grounding the existence of the state in a sense of common need, and to his depreciation of the fine arts, especially poetry. Others might prefer a different solution of some of these facts. Rixner, Geschichte der Philosophie, p. 223, says, “That Plato thought ill of the popular poets, and refused to admit even Homer into his ideal republic as more than a travelling guest, is not to be misunderstood as if he did not recognize the original identity of poetry and philosophy; both of which live in the contemplation of the Ideal. But his censure was aimed at two things- the senseless and spiritless mode of treating mythology, which looked only at the literal significance of its fables and neglected their hidden meaning; and the frivolous and superficial productions of contemporaneous poets, who invented new fables quite destitute of a spiritual meaning.'

We perceive that Dr. Ritter, in a review of our author, refers to this passage, among others, as a proof that Ackermann's book is pervaded by an exaggerated hostility to rationalism. "We have always, till now," he says, "held rationalism for an error in theology, and one peculiar to the last century. How is it that Ackermann finds it in the philosophy of Greece so long ago?" The grounding of the state, in a sense of common need, and the depreciation of the fine arts, seem to us far enough from rationalism. "One would almost think that the author seeks to charge upon it all possible crudities and errors, in order that he may obtain a more easy victory." Not so exactly; but Ackermann uses the word rationalism in a wide sense, to express a general tendency of human nature, not a particular and determinate system. Ritter, on the contrary, uses it in a strict scientific sense, and regards the error itself as a local and temporary one. This is not the only instance in which he censures our author, rather more severely than is necessary, we think, for a wide, and somewhat vague and indeterminate application of terms, and for overstating a point in his anxiety to present it clearly. For our own part, we regard Ackermann's vindication of his method in such instances as satisfactory. "The writer who wishes to present a proposition in a clear light, can do it only by drawing a little too tight the proper strings; otherwise the tones flow into each other, and make no distinct impression," etc.