THE immediate occasion for publishing these outlines is the need of placing in the bands of my hearers a guide to my professional lectures upon the Philosophy of Right. Hitherto I have used as lectures that portion of the Encyclopaedia of the Philosophic Sciences (1817) which deals with this subject. The present work covers the same ground in a more detailed and systematic way.
But now that these outlines are to be printed and given to the
general public, there is an opportunity of explaining points which in
lecturing would be commented on orally. Thus the notes are enlarged in order to include cognate or conflicting ideas, further consequences of the theory advocated, and the like. These expanded notes will, it is hoped, throw light upon the more abstract substance of the text, and present a more complete view of some of the ideas current in our own time. Moreover, there is also subjoined, as far as was compatible with the purpose of a compendium, a number of notes, ranging over a still greater latitude. A compendium proper, like a science, has its subject-matter accurately laid out. With the exception, possibly, of
one or two slight additions, its chief task is to arrange the essential
phases of its material. This material is regarded as fixed and known,
just as the form is assumed to be governed by well-ascertained rules.
A treatise in philosophy is usually not expected to be constructed on
such a pattern, perhaps because people suppose that a philosophical
product is a Penelope’s web which must be started anew every day.
This treatise differs from the ordinary compendium mainly in its
method of procedure. It must be understood at the outset that the
philosophic way of advancing from one matter to another, the
general speculative method, which is the only kind of scientific proof
available in philosophy, is essentially different from every other. Only
a clear insight into the necessity for this difference can snatch
philosophy out of the ignominious condition into which it has fallen
in our day. True, the logical rules, such as those of definition,
classification, and inference are now generally recognised to be
inadequate for speculative science. Perhaps it is nearer the mark to
say that the inadequacy of the rules has been felt rather than
recognised, because they have been counted as mere fetters, and
thrown aside to make room for free speech from the heart, fancy and
random intuition. But when reflection and relations of thought were
required, people unconsciously fell back upon the old-fashioned
method of inference and formal reasoning. In my Science of Logic I
have developed the nature of speculative science in detail. Hence in
this treatise an explanation of method will be added only here and there. In a work which is concrete, and presents such a diversity of
phases, we may safely neglect to display at every turn the logical
process, and may take for granted an acquaintance with the scientific
procedure. Besides, it may readily be observed that the work as a
whole, and also the construction of the parts, rest upon the logical
spirit. From this standpoint, especially, is it that I would like this
treatise to be understood and judged. In such a work as this we are
dealing with a science, and in a science the matter must not be
separated from the form.
Some, who are thought to be taking a profound view, are heard to
say that everything turns upon the subject-matter, and that the form
may be ignored. The business of any writer, and especially of the
philosopher, is, as they say, to discover, utter, and diffuse truth and
adequate conceptions. In actual practice this business usually consists
in warming up and distributing on all sides the same old cabbage.
Perhaps the result of this operation may be to fashion and arouse the
feelings; though even this small merit may be regarded as superfluous,
for “they have Moses and the prophets: let them hear them.” Indeed,
we have great cause to be amazed at the pretentious tone of those
who take this view. They seem to suppose that up till now the
dissemination of truth throughout the world has been feeble. They
think that the warmed-up cabbage contains new truths, especially to
be laid to heart at the present time. And yet we see that what is on
one side announced as true, is driven out and swept away by the same
kind of worn-out truth. Out of this hurly-burly of opinions, that
which is neither new nor old, but permanent, cannot be rescued and
preserved except by science.
Further, as to rights, ethical life, and the state, the truth is as old as
that in which it is openly displayed and recognised, namely, the law,
morality, and religion. But as the thinking spirit is not satisfied with
possessing the truth in this simple way, it must conceive it, and thus
acquire a rational form for a content which is already rational
implicitly. In this way the substance is justified before the bar of free
thought. Free thought cannot be satisfied with what is given to it,
whether by the external positive authority of the state or human
agreement, or by the authority of internal feelings, the heart, and the
witness of the spirit, which coincides unquestioningly with the heart.
It is the nature of free thought rather to proceed out of its own self,
and hence to demand that it should know itself as thoroughly one
with truth.
The ingenuous mind adheres with simple conviction to the truth
which is publicly acknowledged. On this foundation it builds its
conduct and way of life. In opposition to this naive view of things
rises the supposed difficulty of detecting amidst the endless
differences of opinion anything of universal application. This trouble
may easily be supposed to spring from a spirit of earnest inquiry. But
in point of fact those who pride themselves upon the existence of
this obstacle are in the plight of him who cannot see the woods for
the trees. The confusion is all of their own making. Nay, more: this
confusion is an indication. that they are in fact not seeking for what is
universally valid in right and the ethical order. If they were at pains to
find that out, and refused to busy themselves with empty opinion and
minute detail, they would adhere to and act in accordance with
substantive right, namely the commands of the state and the claims of
society. But a further difficulty lies in the fact that man thinks, and
seeks freedom and a basis for conduct in thought. Divine as his right
to act in this way is, it becomes a wrong, when it takes the place of
thinking. Thought then regards itself as free only when it is conscious
of being at variance with what is generally recognised, and of setting
itself up as something original.
The idea that freedom of thought and mind is indicated only by
deviation from, or even hostility to what is everywhere recognised, is
most persistent with regard to the state. The essential task of a
philosophy of the state would thus seem to be the discovery and
publication of a new and original theory.
When we examine this idea and the way it is applied, we are
almost led to think that no state or constitution has ever existed, or
now exists. We are tempted to suppose that we must now begin and
keep on beginning afresh for ever. We are to fancy that the founding
of the social order has depended upon present devices and
discoveries. As to nature, philosophy, it is admitted, has to
understand it as it is. The philosophers’ stone must be concealed
somewhere, we say, in nature itself, as nature is in itself rational.
Knowledge must, therefore, examine, apprehend and conceive the
reason actually present in nature. Not with the superficial shapes and
accidents of nature, but with its eternal harmony, that is to say, its
inherent law and essence, knowledge has to cope. But the ethical
world or the state, which is in fact reason potently and permanently
actualised in self-consciousness, is not permitted to enjoy the
happiness of being reason at all.
Footnote: There are two kinds of laws, laws of nature and
laws of right. The laws of nature are simply there, and are
valid as they are. They cannot be gainsaid, although in certain
cases they may be transgressed. In order to know laws of
nature, we must get to work to ascertain them, for they are
true, and only our ideas of them can be false. Of these laws
the measure is outside of us. Our knowledge adds nothing to
them, and does not further their operation. Only our
knowledge of them expands. The knowledge of right is partly
of the same nature and partly different. The laws of right also
are simply there, and we have to become acquainted with
them. In this way the citizen has a more or less firm hold of
them as they are given to him, and the jurist also abides by
the same standpoint. But there is also a distinction. In
connection with the laws of right the spirit of investigation is
stirred up, and our attention is turned to the fact that the
laws, because they are different, are not absolute. Laws of
right are established and handed down by men. The inner
voice must necessarily collide or agree with them. Man
cannot be limited to what is presented to him, but maintains
that he has the standard of right within himself. He may be
subject to the necessity and force of external authority, but
not in the same way as he is to the necessity of nature; for
always his inner being says to him how a thing ought to be,
and within himself he finds the confirmation or lack of
confirmation of what is generally accepted. In nature the
highest truth is that a law is. In right a thing is not valid
because it is, since every one demands that it shall conform to
his standard. Hence arises a possible conflict between what is
and what ought to be, between absolute unchanging right and
the arbitrary decision of what ought to be right. Such division
and strife occur only on the soil of the spirit. Thus the unique
privilege of the spirit would appear to lead to discontent and
unhappiness, and frequently we are directed to nature in
contrast with the fluctuations of life. But it is exactly in the
opposition arising between absolute right, and that which the
arbitrary will seeks to make right, that the need lies of
knowing thoroughly what right is. Men must openly meet and
face their reason, and consider the rationality of right. This is
the subject-matter of our science in contrast with
jurisprudence, which often has to do merely with
contradictions. Moreover the world of today has an
imperative need to make this investigation. In ancient times,
respect and reverence for the law were universal. But now the
fashion of the time has taken another turn, and thought
confronts everything which has been approved. Theories
now set themselves in opposition to reality, and make as
though they were absolutely true and necessary. And there is
now more pressing need to know and conceive the thoughts
upon right. Since thought has exalted itself as the essential
form, we must now be careful to apprehend right also as
thought. It would look as though the door were thrown open
for every casual opinion, when thought is thus made to
supervene upon right. But true thought of a thing is not an
opinion, but the conception of the thing itself. The
conception of the thing does not come to us by nature. Every
man has fingers, and may have brush and colours, but he is
not by reason of that a painter. So is it with thought. The
thought of right is not a thing which every man has at first
hand. True thinking is thorough acquaintance with the object.
Hence our knowledge must be scientific.
On the contrary, the spiritual universe is looked upon as
abandoned by God, and given over as a prey to accident and
chance. As in this way the divine is eliminated from the
ethical world, truth must be sought outside of it. And since at
the same time reason should and does belong to the ethical
world, truth, being divorced from reason, is reduced to a
mere speculation. Thus seems to arise the necessity and duty
of every thinker to pursue a career of his own. Not that he
needs to seek for the philosophers’ stone, since the
philosophising of our day has saved him the trouble, and
every would-be thinker is convinced that he possesses the
stone already without search. But these erratic pretensions
are, as it indeed happens, ridiculed by all who, whether they
are aware of it or not, are conditioned in their lives by the
state, and find their minds and wills satisfied in it. These, who
include the majority if not all, regard the occupation of
philosophers as a game, sometimes playful, sometimes
earnest, sometimes entertaining, sometimes dangerous, but
always as a mere game. Both this restless and frivolous
reflection and also this treatment accorded to it might safely
be left to take their own course, were it not that betwixt them
philosophy is brought into discredit and contempt. The most
cruel despite is done when every one is convinced of his
ability to pass judgment upon, and discard philosophy
without any special study. No such scorn is heaped upon any
other art or science.
In point of fact the pretentious utterances of recent philosophy
regarding the state have been enough to justify anyone who cared to
meddle with the question, in the conviction that he could prove
himself a philosopher by weaving a philosophy out of his own brain.
Notwithstanding this conviction, that which passes for philosophy
has openly announced that truth cannot be known. The truth with
regard to ethical ideals, the state, the government and the constitution
ascends, so it declares, out of each man’s heart, feeling and
enthusiasm. Such declarations have been poured especially into the
eager ears of the young. The words “God giveth truth to his chosen
in sleep” have been applied to science ; hence every sleeper has
numbered himself amongst the chosen. But what he deals with in
sleep is only the wares of sleep. Mr. Fries, one of the leaders of this
shallow-minded host of philosophers, on a public festive occasion,
now become celebrated, has not hesitated to give utterance to the
following notion of the state and constitution: “When a nation is
ruled by a common spirit, then from below, out of the people, will
come life sufficient for the discharge of all public business. Living
associations, united indissolubly by the holy bond of friendship, will
devote themselves to every side of national service, and every means
for educating the people.” This is the last degree of shallowness,
because in it science is looked upon as developing, not out of thought
or conception, but out of direct perception and random fancy. Now
the organic connection of the manifold branches of the social system
is the architectonic of the state’s rationality, and in this supreme
science of state architecture the strength of the whole, is made to
depend upon the harmony of all the clearly marked phases of public
life, and the stability of every pillar, arch, and buttress of the social
edifice. And yet the shallow doctrine, of which we have spoken
permits this elaborate structure to melt and lose itself in the brew and
stew of the “heart, friendship, and inspiration.” Epicurus, it is said,
believed that the world generally should be given over to each
individual’s opinions and whims and according to the view we are
criticising, the ethical fabric should be treated in the same way. By
this old wives’ decoction, which consists in founding upon the
feelings what has been for many centuries the labour of reason and
understanding, we no longer need the guidance of any ruling
conception of thought. On this point Goethe’s Mephistopheles, and the
poet is a good authority, has a remark, which I have already used
“Verachte nur Verstand und Wissenschaft,
des Menschen allerhöchste Gaben –
So hast dem Teufel dich ergeben
und musst zu Grunde gehn.”
It is no surprise that the view just criticised should appear in the
form of piety. Where, indeed, has this whirlwind of impulse not
sought to justify itself? In godliness and the Bible it has imagined
itself able to find authority for despising order and law. And, in fact,
it is piety of the sort which has reduced the whole organised system
of truth to elementary intuition and feeling. But piety of the right
kind leaves this obscure region, and comes out into the daylight,
where the idea unfolds and reveals itself. Out of its sanctuary it brings
a reverence for the law and truth which are absolute and exalted
above all subjective feeling.
The particular kind of evil consciousness developed by the wishywashy eloquence already alluded to, may be detected in the following
way. It is most unspiritual, when it speaks most of the spirit. It is the
most dead and leathern, when it talks of the scope of life. When it is
exhibiting the greatest self-seeking and vanity it has most on its
tongue the words “people” and “nation.” But its peculiar mark,
found on its very forehead, is its hatred of law.
Right and ethical principle, the actual world of right and ethical
life are apprehended in thought, and by thought are given definite,
general, and rational form, and this reasoned right finds expression in
law. But feeling, which seeks its own pleasure, and conscience, which
finds right in private conviction, regard the law as their most bitter
foe. The right, which takes the shape of law and duty, is by feeling
looked upon as a shackle or dead cold letter. In this law it does not
recognise itself and does not find itself free. Yet the law is the reason
of the object, and refuses to feeling the privilege of warming itself at
its private hearth. Hence the law, as we shall occasionally observe, is
the Shibboleth, by means of which are detected the false brethren and
friends of the so-called people.
Inasmuch as the purest charlatanism has won the name of
philosophy, and has succeeded in convincing the public that its
practices are philosophy, it has now become almost a disgrace to
speak in a philosophic way about the state. Nor can it be taken ill, if
honest men become impatient, when the subject is broached. Still less
is it a surprise that the government has at last turned its attention to
this false philosophising.
With us philosophy is not practised as a private art, as it was by
the Greeks, but has a public place, and should therefore be employed
only in the service of the state. The government has, up till now,
shown such confidence in the scholars in this department as to leave
the subject matter of philosophy wholly in their hands. Here and
there, perhaps, has been shown to this science not confidence – so
much as indifference, and professorships have been retained as a
matter of tradition. In France, as far as I am aware, the professional
teaching of metaphysics at least has fallen into desuetude. In any case
the confidence of the state has been ill requited by the teachers of
this subject. Or, if we prefer to see in the state not confidence, but
indifference, the decay of fundamental knowledge must be looked
upon as a severe penance. Indeed, shallowness is to all appearance
most endurable and most in harmony with the maintenance of order
and peace, when it does not touch or hint at any real issue.
Hence it would not be necessary to bring it under public control,
if the state did not require deeper teaching and insight, and expect
science to satisfy the need. Yet this shallowness, notwithstanding its
seeming innocence, does bear upon social life, right and duty
generally, advancing principles which are the very essence of
superficiality. These, as we have learned so decidedly from Plato, are
the principles of the Sophists, according to which the basis of right is
subjective aims and opinions, subjective feeling and private
conviction. The result of such principles is quite as much the
destruction of the ethical system, of the upright conscience, of love
and right, in private persons, as of public order and the institutions of
the state. The significance of these facts for the authorities will not be
obscured by the claim that the bolder of these perilous doctrines
should be trusted, or by the immunity of office.
The authorities will not be deterred by the demand that they
should protect and give free play to a theory which strikes at the
substantial basis of conduct, namely, universal principles, and that
they should disregard insolence on the ground of its being the
exercise of the teacher’s function. To him, to whom God gives office, He
gives also understanding is a well-worn jest, which no one in our time
would like to take seriously.
In the methods of teaching philosophy, which have under the
circumstances been reanimated by the government, the important
element of protection and support cannot be ignored. The study of
philosophy is in many ways in need of such assistance. Frequently in
scientific, religious, and other works may be read a contempt for
philosophy. Some, who have no conspicuous education and are total
strangers to philosophy, treat it as a cast-off garment. They even rail
against it, and regard as foolishness and sinful presumption its efforts
to conceive of God and physical and spiritual nature. They scout its
endeavour to know the truth. Reason, and again reason, and reason in
endless iteration is by them accused, despised, condemned. Free
expression, also, is given by a large number of those, who are
supposed to be cultivating scientific research, to their annoyance at
the unassailable claims of the conception. When we, I say, are
confronted with such phenomena as these, we are tempted to
harbour the thought that old traditions of tolerance have fallen out of
use, and no longer assure to philosophy a place and public
Footnote: The same finds expression in a letter of Joh. v.
Müller (Works, Part VIII., p. 56), who, speaking of the
condition of Rome in the year 1803, when the city was under
French rule, writes, “A professor, asked how the public
academies were doing, answered, ‘On les tolère comme les
bordels!’” Similarly the so-called theory of reason or logic we
may still hear commended, perhaps under the belief that it is
too dry and unfruitful a science to claim any one’s attention,
or, if it be pursued here and there, that its formulae are
without content, and, though not of much good, can be of no
great harm. Hence the recommendation, so it is thought, if
useless, can do no injury.
These presumptuous utterances, which are in vogue in our time,
are, strange to say, in a measure justified by the shallowness of the
current philosophy. Yet, on the other hand, they have sprung from
the same root as that against which they so thanklessly direct their
attacks. Since that self-named philosophising has declared that to
know the truth is vain, it has reduced all matter of thought to the
same level, resembling in this way the despotism of the Roman
Empire, which equalised noble and slave, virtue and vice, honour and
dishonour, knowledge and ignorance. In such a view the conceptions
of truth and the laws of ethical life are simply opinions and subjective
convictions, and the most criminal principles, provided only that they
are convictions, are put on a level with these laws. Thus, too, any
paltry special object, be it never so flimsy, is given the same value as
au interest common to all thinking men and the bonds of the
established social world.
Hence it is for science a piece of good fortune that that kind of
philosophising, which might, like scholasticism, have continued to
spin its notions within itself, has been brought into contact with
reality. Indeed, such contact was, as we have said, inevitable. The real
world is in earnest with the principles of right and duty, and in the
full light of a consciousness of these principles it lives. With this
world of reality philosophic cob-web spinning has come into open
rupture. Now, as to genuine philosophy it is precisely its attitude to
reality which has been misapprehended. Philosophy is, as I have
already observed, an inquisition into the rational, and therefore the
apprehension of the real and present. Hence it cannot be the
exposition of a world beyond, which is merely a castle in the air,
having no existence except in the error of a one-sided and empty
formalism of thought. In the following treatise I have remarked that
even Plato’s Republic, now regarded as the bye-word for an empty
ideal, has grasped the essential nature of the ethical life of the Greeks.
He knew that there was breaking in upon Greek life a deeper
principle, which could directly manifest itself only as an unsatisfied
longing and therefore as ruin. Moved by the same longing Plato had
to seek help against it, but had to conceive of the help as coming
down from above, and hoped at last to have found it in an external
special form of Greek ethical life. He exhausted himself in contriving,
how by means of this new society to stem the tide of ruin, but
succeeded only in injuring more fatally its deeper motive, the free
infinite personality. Yet he has proved himself to be a great mind
because the very principle and central distinguishing feature of his
idea is the pivot upon which the world-wide revolution then in
process turned:
What is rational is real;
And what is real is rational.
Upon this conviction stand not philosophy only but even every
unsophisticated consciousness. From it also proceeds the view now
under contemplation that the spiritual universe is the natural. When
reflection, feeling or whatever other form the subjective
consciousness may assume, regards the present as vanity, and thinks
itself to be beyond it and wiser, it finds itself in emptiness, and, as it
has actuality only in the present, it is vanity throughout. Against the
doctrine that the idea is a mere idea, figment or opinion, philosophy
preserves the more profound view that nothing is real except the
idea. Hence arises the effort to recognise in the temporal and
transient the substance, which is immanent, and the eternal, which is
present. The rational is synonymous with the idea, because in
realising itself it passes into external existence. It thus appears in an
endless wealth of forms, figures and phenomena. It wraps its kernel
round with a robe of many colours, in which consciousness finds
itself at home.
Through this varied husk the conception first of all penetrates, in
order to touch the pulse, and then feel it throbbing in its external
manifestations. To bring to order the endlessly varied relations, which
constitute the outer appearance of the rational essence is not the task
of philosophy. Such material is not suitable for it, and it can well
abstain from giving good advice about these things. Plato could
refrain from recommending to the nurses not to stand still with
children, but always to dandle them in their arms. So could Fichte
forbear to construe, as they say, the supervision of passports to such
a point as to demand of all suspects that not only a description of
them but also their portrait, should be inserted in the pass.
Philosophy now exhibits no trace of such details. These superfine
concerns it may neglect all the more safely, since it shows itself of the
most liberal spirit in its attitude towards the endless mass of objects
and circumstances. By such a course science will escape the hate
which is visited upon a multitude of circumstances and institutions by
the vanity of a better knowledge. In this hate bitterness of mind finds
the greatest pleasure, as it can in no other way attain to a feeling of
This treatise, in so far as it contains a political science, is nothing
more than an attempt to conceive of and present the state as in itself
rational. As a philosophic writing, it must be on its guard against
constructing a state as it ought to be. Philosophy cannot teach the state
what it should be, but only how it, the ethical universe, is to be known.
Ιδου Ποδοσ, ιδου και το πιδιµα
Hic Rhodus, hic saltus. [note]
To apprehend what is is the task of philosophy, because what is is
reason. As for the individual, every one is a son of his time; so
philosophy also is its time apprehended in thoughts. It is just as
foolish to fancy that any philosophy can transcend its present world,
as that an individual could leap out of his time or jump over Rhodes.
If a theory transgresses its time, and builds up a world as it ought to
be, it has an existence merely in the unstable element of opinion,
which gives room to every wandering fancy.
With little change the above, saying would read:
Here is the rose, here dance
The barrier which stands between reason, as self-conscious Spirit,
and reason as present reality, and does not permit spirit to find
satisfaction in reality, is some abstraction, which is not free to be
conceived. To recognise reason as the rose in the cross of the
present, and to find delight in it, is a rational insight which implies
reconciliation with reality. This reconciliation philosophy grants to
those who have felt the inward demand to conceive clearly, to
preserve subjective freedom while present in substantive reality, and
yet thought possessing this freedom to stand not upon the particular
and contingent, but upon what is and self-completed.
This also is the more concrete meaning of what was a moment
ago more abstractly called the unity of form and content. Form in its
most concrete significance is reason, as an intellectual apprehension
which conceives its object. Content, again, is reason as the
substantive essence of social order and nature. The conscious identity
of form and content is the philosophical idea.
It is a self-assertion, which does honour to man, to recognise
nothing in sentiment which is not justified by thought. This self-will
is a feature of modern times, being indeed the peculiar principle of
Protestantism. What was initiated by Luther as faith in feeling and the
witness of the spirit, the more mature mind strives to apprehend in
conception. In that way it seeks to free itself in the present, and so
find there itself. It is a celebrated saying that a half philosophy leads
away from God, while a true philosophy leads to God. (It is the same
halfness, I may say in passing which regards knowledge as an
approximation to truth.) This saying is applicable to the science of the
state. Reason cannot content itself with a mere approximation,
something which is neither cold not hot, and must be spewed out of
the mouth. As little can it be contented with the cold scepticism that
in this world of time things go badly, or at best only moderately well,
and that we must keep the peace with reality, merely because there is
nothing better to be had. Knowledge creates a much more vital
Only one word more concerning the desire to teach the world
what it ought to be. For such a purpose philosophy at least always
comes too late. Philosophy, as the thought of the world, does not
appear until reality has completed its formative process, and made
itself ready. History thus corroborates the teaching of the conception
that only in the maturity of reality does the ideal appear as
counterpart to the real, apprehends the real world in its substance,
and shapes it into an intellectual kingdom. When philosophy paints
its grey in grey, one form of life has become old, and by means of
grey it cannot be rejuvenated, but only known. The owl of Minerva,
takes its flight only when the shades of night are gathering.
But it is time to close this preface. As a preface it is its place to
speak only externally and subjectively of the standpoint of the work
which it introduces. A philosophical account of the essential content
needs a scientific and objective treatment. So, too, criticisms, other
than those which proceed from such a treatment, must be viewed by
the author as unreflective convictions. Such subjective criticisms must be for him a matter of indifference.
BERLIN, June 25th, 1820.
Translated by S W Dyde, 1896

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