only as that which comprehends all individual existences, and as that which has Being, that which lies at the foundation of all things, the true content of all individual things.
Pantheism of this kind is not to be found in any religion, and the statement that it is so discoverable is wholly false. It has never occurred to any man to say, all is God—that is, things in their individuality or contingency—much less has it been maintained in any philosophy.
With oriental pantheism, or more correctly Spinozism, we shall make acquaintance later on, under the head of definite religion. Spinozism itself as such, and oriental pantheism, too, contain the thought that in everything the divine is only the universal element of a content, the Essence of things, while at the same time it is also represented as being the determined or specific Essence of the things.
When Brahm says, “I am the brightness, the shining element in metals, the Ganges among rivers, the life in all that lives, &c.,” what is individual is done away with and absorbed. Brahm does not say, “I am the metal, the rivers, the individual things of each kind by themselves, as such, as they exist immediately.”
The brightness is not the metal itself, but is the Universal, the Substantial, elevated above any individual form; it is no longer το παν, everything as individual. What is expressed here is no longer what is called pantheism; the idea expressed is rather that of the Essence in such individual things.
All that has life is characterised by the note of time and space; it is, however, only on the imperishable element in this singularity that stress is laid. “The life of all that lives” is, in that imperishable sphere of life, the Unlimited, the Universal. When, however, it is said that everything is God, the singularity is understood in accordance with all its limits, its finiteness, its
