The title of this essay is meant to be perplexing. Schleiermacher is not known for his treatment of grace, much less for a treatise on grace. Few scholars of Schleiermacher's theology have devoted attention to his doctrine of grace, with two notable exceptions. Karl Barth, in his lectures on Schleiermacher, did not hesitate to thrash his nemesis on this point, although to him it was so obvious that Schleiermacher's understanding of grace was not a Christian doctrine of grace, at least not in the Reformation sense, that he barely felt the need to argue the case. “What kind of God is this,” he asked, “What kind of grace?” Richard R. Niebuhr, in his apologia for Schleiermacher, which inspired a new age of scholarship on Schleiermacher in America, included a section entitled “Grace and Nature,” but its focus was on the Christmas Eve Dialogue, not Schleiermacher's dogmatic theology. Neither Barth nor Niebuhr took note of Schleiermacher's more formal, dogmatic treatment of grace—what I am calling Schleiermacher's “treatise on grace”; in the several decades since their influential works, very few have attempted to correct this oversight. Such neglect by specialists has no doubt contributed to a wider sense that, despite the importance of his The Christian Faith (Glaubenslehre), Schleiermacher does not merit a place alongside other theologians when it comes to the history of the Christian doctrine of grace. None of the major scholarly books on the history and development of the doctrine of grace include a chapter or section (or even reference) to Schleiermacher's treatment of grace. Schleiermacher himself almost seems to have anticipated this oversight—worse, really, than any criticism—when he asked, “Does my Glaubenslehre in any way fail to give due honor to divine grace?”

In this article, I discuss the Song 宋 Neo-Confucian Cheng Yi's 程頤 (1033–1107) interpretation of two related controversial passages in the Analects, the recorded sayings of Confucius. The term “neo-Confucianism” was coined by Western scholars to refer to the Confucianism of the period from the Song dynasty to the Ming 明 dynasty (and sometimes through the Qing 清 dynasty). Among Chinese scholars, neo-Confucianism is most commonly referred to as the Learning of Principle (li xue 理學). Although before Cheng Yi and his brother Cheng Hao 程顥 (1032–1085) there were three other philosophers who are normally also regarded as neo-Confucians— Shao Yong 邵雍 (1011–1077), Zhou Dunyi 周敦頤 (1017–1073), and Zhang Zai 張載 (1020–1077)—we can justifiably regard the Cheng brothers as the real founders of neo-Confucianism in the sense that principle becomes the essential philosophical concept for the first time in their works. There is no consensus among scholars as to the relationship between the philosophies of these two brothers. The traditional view regards them as substantially different due to the two different schools of neo-Confucianism that developed from their teachings, the realistic school synthesized by Zhu Xi 朱熹 (1130–1200) from the teachings of Cheng Yi and the idealist school culminating in Wang Yangming 王陽明 (1472–1529) from the teachings of ChengHao. I, however, tend to think that the philosophical positions of the two brothers are largely similar. Unfortunately, since Cheng Hao did not live as long as Cheng Yi, there is insufficient material to create a systematic picture of his view of the Analects passages with which this article will deal.

In two interconnected theoretical works published in 1962, Lévi-Strauss argued that the tendency among primitive societies to formulate animal classification systems and to express these systems ritually cannot be explained as a side-effect of social classification, as Durkheim and Mauss had argued, nor can it be explained on the narrow materialistic grounds posited by Radcliffe-Brown and Malinowski. The negative evidence adduced by Lévi-Strauss is empirical: animal classification systems are neither limited to societies in which there exists a fixed correlation between social groups and animal species, nor do they pertain to species that are of significant material or symbolic value to the classifying culture. According to Lévi-Strauss, the ritual expression of the mental act of classification functions like a language, containing “stressed” and “unstressed” elements and aiming to convey theoretical messages.

In November 1985, the British Museum turned over to me photographs in their files that they had made while conserving the leather binding of 75 for the Bibliothèque Bodmer, which contained fragments of Luke and John not previously published in the editio princeps or otherwise available to scholarship. This article reports on these fragments and includes three plates of the photographs.

Much ink has been spilt over the question of “Nietzsche and the Jews” ever since the distortion of Nietzsche's manuscripts by his sister, Elizabeth Förster-Nietzsche, forged the links with Nazism that would be further developed by the likes of Alfred Bäumler into a “carefully orchestrated cult.” Though it is a portrait long dismissed in the academic world, a combination of Nazi propaganda and some subsequent scholarship has ensured that the picture of Nietzsche as a virulent anti-Semite who provided Nazism with its conceptual underpinnings lingers in the popular mind. Most scholars, however, now accept at worst a more ambivalent picture. Others go beyond ambivalence, with Weaver Santaniello turning the accusation of anti-Semitism on its head by arguing that Nietzsche's contempt for anti-Semitism was one of the driving forces behind his critique of liberal Christianity, which in its use of “conservative theological concepts . . . perpetuate[s] anti-Semitism.” Even Crane Brinton, arguably one of those scholars most responsible for perpetuating the misrepresentation of Nietzsche as an anti-Semite, insisted that he had never maintained “that Nietzsche was a ‘proto-Nazi’.” But whilst Nietzsche is almost universally exonerated from the charge of personal anti-Semitism, Brinton's claim that “occasionally [Nietzsche] comes very close indeed to the Nazi program,” though based on poor use of Nietzsche's writings and rightly dismissed by Walter Kaufmann, continues to find echoes even amongst more careful Nietzsche scholars, who claim that he “did have some responsibility for Nazi crimes.”